. Cobb's Bill-of-fare. otion—mainly pictures of horse races andsteamboat races. When he painted a horserace, the horses were always shown runningneck and neck with their mouths wide openand their eyes gleaming; and their nostrilswere widely extended and painted a deepcrimson, and their legs were neatly arrangedjust so, and not scrambled together in anyold fashion, as seems to be the case with thelegs of the horses that are being paintednowadays. And when he painted a steam-boat race it would always be the Natchezand the Robert E. Lee coming down theriver abreast in the middle of the night,with
. Cobb's Bill-of-fare. otion—mainly pictures of horse races andsteamboat races. When he painted a horserace, the horses were always shown runningneck and neck with their mouths wide openand their eyes gleaming; and their nostrilswere widely extended and painted a deepcrimson, and their legs were neatly arrangedjust so, and not scrambled together in anyold fashion, as seems to be the case with thelegs of the horses that are being paintednowadays. And when he painted a steam-boat race it would always be the Natchezand the Robert E. Lee coming down theriver abreast in the middle of the night,with the darkies dancing on the lower decksand heavy black smoke rolling out of thesmokestacks in four distinct columns—onecolumn to each smokestack—and showers ofsparks belching up into the vault of was action for you—action and at-tention to detail. With this mans paintingsyou could tell a horse from a steamboat ata glance. He was nothing of an impres-sionist; he never put smokestacks on the ^?Sf .-. ?^mJU COLLISION BETWEEN TWO HEAVENLY BODIESOR PREMATURE EXPLOSION OF A CUSTARD PIE Cobbs Bill-of-Fare 105 horse nor legs on the steamboat. And hiswork gave general satisfaction throughoutthat community. Frederic Remington wasnt any impres-sionist either; and so far as I can learn hedidnt have a cubiform idea in stock. WhenRemington painted an Indian on a pony itwas a regular Indian and a regular pony—not one of those cotton-batting things withfat legs that an impressionist slaps on to acanvas and labels a horse. You could smellthe lathered sweat on the ponys hide andfeel the dust of the dry prairie tickling yournostrils. You could see the slide of thehorses withers and watch the play of thenaked Indians arm muscles. I should liketo enroll as a charter member of a league ofAmericans who believe that Frederic Rem-ington and Howard Pyle were greaterpainters than any Old Master that everturned out blistered saints and fly-blowncherubim. And if every one who secretly
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1913
