A WORD ON POONING
By
Augustula Thomas
Note: This work would be incomplete, indeed, without a few suggestions from one-who-understands and has long been the authority on pooning. Pooning is a highly technical term and may perhaps need definition for the benefit of laymen. Its significance is subtle, lying between that of “properly placing” and the sense conveyed by the Italian phrase “Dove il dogagna.” Many true lovers of the quaint-and-rare possess the patience and the means to make collections, but, when it comes to the tasteful pooning of these, lack the connoisseur touch that is distinctive. Madame Thomas’s position as a scholarly decorator is now recognized as impeccable. Her hints will prove lambent to many a collector.—Eds.
A witty Frenchman once said to Madame de Montespan that the feminine touch in decoration was para cœli, but without half measures! Not pausing to debate the aspersion, I may admit that I have usually found it more sympathetic to direct the replacing of beautiful old things in the houses of bachelor and widower collectors than in those of somewhat more matronly people. After which treachery to my sex, let me proceed at once to the practical. Enfin!
RECEPTION HELD BY THE AMERICAN ACADEMY FOR THE POPULARIZATION OF ANTIQUITIES ON THE LAWN BEFORE THE ACADEMY’S BUILDING AT THE SAN FRANCISCO EXPOSITION
This reception was in honor of the election of Mme. Augustula Thomas to membership. Mme. Thomas is seen right of center in conversation with Turrbyl Dewyns (Fellow of the Academy), who wears the blue ribbon awarded by the Exposition as first prize for antiquarians. Just eastward of him Hon. P. D. Smith (Member of Congress from Arkansas) is seen courteously lifting his hat to Dr. Twitchett in recognition of the latter’s talents.
To pronounce my creed, which is synthetic and never subjective, a priori: Why own priceless marvels unless they are where they may be seen? Why lock up Coriobantini enamels, for instance, in a damp closet? The first thing I do, upon being put in charge of a collection, is to throw the vitrines out of the house. I shall never forget the amazement of the late Darrell Hazzard, of Hartford, when I thus ruthlessly began my work upon his treasures. “What!” he exclaimed. “Expose my faïence, my Louis Treize snuff-boxes, my Antoinette miniatures to the careless handling of every chance visitor? This is radicalism with a vengeance, dear lady! I suppose next you will be placing my snuff-boxes and miniatures upon the living-room table!”
“Tush!” I replied serenely. “They are to occupy your front veranda railing.” I had noticed that the railing was flat and within a few feet of the sidewalk, an ideal location for the priceless little objects, and there I had them placed. For that was where they would give the most pleasure—and it will be well for the reader to intrigue himself with the significance of this simple rule: Put your things where they will give the most pleasure. I am often asked the secret of my success, and I always reply with two words: “Simplicity! Pleasure!”
It is a mistake to clutter, as even the most cadavre of amateurs is aware. A touch here; a touch there—and for the rest, no cluttering! I have always considered the Metropolitan Museum a dismaying example of cluttering. One work of art is enough for one room. When I remodelled the Rockford collection of Chinoiseries I selected just one antique absinthe-colored jade Buddha, which was exactly an inch and three sixteenths in height, half an inch wide and three eighths of an inch in thickness. I then decided upon one of the gallery exhibition rooms, seventeen feet in height with a floor space sixty-four feet by twenty-six, admirable proportions for my purpose. I had the floor and walls lacquered a neutral mauve, and then placed the jade Buddha in the exact centre of the floor and without a pedestal. Not even a chair or a settee was permitted within the room; the walls were without any adornment whatever, and the attention of spectators was thus concentrated upon the one work of art present, the jade Buddha. The effect, though slightly Dada and austere, was considered serene and redolent of that allure of restfulness which is distinctive.
Almost precisely similar to this was my treatment of a pair of signed Louis Seize candle-snuffers of chased silver, formerly the property of Judge Bunting Palliphet, of Peterborough, Virginia, whose ancestors entertained Rochambeau. A well-authenticated family legend had it that the snuffers were in the Count’s portmanteau, which he was unable to find at the moment of his departure from Palliphet Manor; and thus it became an heirloom of the Palliphet family. The snuffers are now in the possession of Mrs. George Woll Potter, of Jersey City, who visited the Manor in 1899, during the absence of the Palliphet family, and it was in doing over the Potter house that I perceived the proper decorative value of these historic snuffers. I had a simple bit of neutral-toned rope hung between two posts outside the library windows; and suspended the snuffers therefrom, forming a vista of approach to them with two perfectly symmetrical rows of arborvitae in black-and-white tubs. The effect was harmonious and yet did not lack that touch of originality which gives the right note at the right moment.
How few people understand what may be done with a simple pair of brass candlesticks! Does not one weary of seeing them eternally upon a mantel? Upon a top bookshelf? Upon the gate-leg table? Upon a set-in window-sill? There we find them invariably, driving us mad with their monotony, when only a slight exertion of the imagination would give them the touch that is different, the charm that is permanent. I have found that it is only necessary to place one such candlestick in the front yard and the other in the back yard to give them a setting that is in keeping. Thus they can be seen from the windows, their sheen rich against the out-of-doors, except at night; and then, if it seems desirable, they may be lighted. It is not necessary to bring them in when it rains. A light water-proof canopy, easily removable, may be placed over them and will be found to give complete protection, and even to add a note of color, if glazed with silver-gilt, the right shade of apricot and just touched with cerise.
Now a word of confession: it is not always the easiest thing in the world to go into a house and give it the right decorative note. The owners may have their own ideas and one must move tactfully. Let me give an instance, though the gentleman in question shall be nameless and designated merely as General X. He was a delightful man, elderly, a retired army officer, a manly and gallant widower, notwithstanding the fact that he possessed strong convictions that his own taste was excellent.
He had gathered about him from all parts of the world a valuable assembly of antiques, bibelots, paintings, stuffed animals, sculptures, seashells, wood-carvings, miniatures, and petiteries, but had so misplaced them in his halls and living-room and even in his master’s rooms that one saw nothing but a heterogeneity of clutter.
I began with his master’s rooms. I went through one after another of these, ordering everything—absolutely everything—removed to the garrets and cellars. Then, when all was clear, I had my assistants place one old Tutu Japanese print in each of his master’s rooms—nothing more—and awaited the General’s return, for he was out at the time.
He was not at first able to comprehend that the new arrangement was intended to be permanent.
“Well,” he remarked, smiling pleasantly, “I see you have made a beginning, Madame Thomas.”
“No,” I smiled. “I have made a conclusion. Your master’s rooms are finished. They now have that restfulness, that air intime which your master’s rooms lacked until I retouched them. This is how they are to remain, General.”
He was dumbfounded. “But I miss everything to which I have been heretofore accustomed!” he cried, with charming naïvete. “In my master’s rooms were my favorite claw and ball feet, my inlaid knees, my carved knees, all my knees of curly maple and walnut! Here were my bottle drawers, my swell fronts, my double-swell fronts, my Jacob’s-ladder fronts, my serpentine fronts—all the fronts I had! I wish my fronts and knees put back the way they were. I won’t have my master’s rooms as empty as this!”
“This is how they are to be, however,” I made retort serenely. “There is no alternative.”
“What!” he exclaimed, and his face became seriously empurpled. “You mean to say I have no control over my own master’s rooms? I want all my bibelots and petiteries back where I put them, myself. My master’s rooms are my own master’s rooms, and not yours, are they not, pray?”
“My dear General,” I replied, “I know what your master’s rooms should be and you do not. You do not see beauty in them now—perhaps you will not to-morrow—but wait! Within a week or ten days you will begin to feel the restful harmony I have put into them and you will be grateful.”
“I won’t! I won’t! I won’t!” he said, stamping his foot pettishly. “I want my bow-backs and my fan-backs back where they were, and I’m sorry I ever put my master’s rooms into your hands! I do just wish I’d never seen you at all, Madame Thomas!”
It was then that I perceived I must use diplomacy, and I admit that if I had not been conscious of wearing a becoming hat, I might have lacked the courage. I put my hand lightly on his arm and looked full into his reddened eyes. “General,” I said softly, “I have labored hard over your master’s rooms. Surely, mon Général, you would not have my task undone!” Then, seeing that he began to melt, I drew a little closer to him; and he set his manly brown paw over my slender fingers, smiled at me, and coughed. I comprehended that the moment had come to use my utmost diplomacy.
“Oo drate bid naughty handsome mans!” I said playfully. “If I had a dun I’d shoot oo, bang!”
It is perhaps scarcely necessary to add that his master’s rooms remained as I had done them, and that the dear old General and I are still the best of friends.
And now a few “Don’ts,” as I call my little inhibitions. Some of them are culled from my own experience and are rather technical, being intended for the use of the beginning professional decorator, who is but too prone to find her path not always strewn with roses, by any means. Others of these little “Don’ts” of mine are for the guidance of those who, unable to afford the counsel of established experts, must fall back upon their own taste and what they may be able to cull from tomes upon the subject. But let us see for ourselves what my “Don’ts” portend!
Don’t, in arranging your bookshelves under the arch in the living-room, place your editions of Boccaccio, Brantôme, Rabelais, and Casanova on the same shelf with Burton’s “Arabian Nights,” “The Heptameron,” Balzac’s “Droll Stories,” and your bound files of “Saucy Stories” and “Le Rire.” The place for all of these volumes is the centre-table; or they may be scattered about the house anywhere, so that they are handy for the children to get at them.
Don’t fasten coat-hangers upon the wall just above valuable water-color paintings. Wet raincoats may cause the colors to run. If your wall-space is limited, the hangers should be placed above oil paintings. (Note: This rule, being somewhat technical, need not be studied by the amateur. I should advise the beginning professional decorator, however, to pay particular attention to it, and even to con it until it is committed to memory. The place for coat-hangers is never over a water-color painting.)
OLD VIRGINIA FOUR-POSTER INLAID WITH MAHOGANY
Still in use by a private collector
Don’t adhere too closely to periods. If you have acquired a few good pieces of Egyptian furniture of the Shepherd King Period for your living-room, they may be easily combined with Sheraton or Eastlake by placing a Ming vase or an old French fowling-piece between the two groups; or you may cover the transition by a light scattering of Mexican pottery, or some Java wine-jars.
Don’t hang your Boucher pastels on the same wall with your stuffed moose-head. The proper place for the moose-head is over the shower-bath, where it can be fitted by any good plumber with a nozzle and used as a fixture.
Don’t attempt to do too much in the boudoir. The boudoir is a place for restful repose and should be kept quiet. A few simple hangings, a coquettish rosette or two of bright-colored ribbon attached to the shutters, a pince-nez over the mantelpiece, a couple of Waterford crystal chandeliers with a light rod of dull brass between them from which to suspend either a samovar or an old ship model—these touches will be found sufficient to combine the charm of an intimate interior with the lure that intrigues.
Don’t attempt to use alfalfa as a decoration for mirror- and picture-frames. I know that this has been widely attempted, but the effect is never good. Alfalfa has no place in the best interiors. Its place is out-of-doors and it should be kept there. This is a point upon which I have the strongest convictions, and what I usually say to beginning decorators who insist upon using alfalfa in the home is answer sufficient, I am sure. “Do you expect your client to entertain horses?” I inquire. “If not, then the place for alfalfa is where it will be convenient for the horse, but not in the living-room and not in the reception-room. No, not even in the entresol.” I admit that there was a charm in the customs of our ancestors under Garfield and Arthur, when cat-tails and sumach were thus employed, and I find the tendency to return to them rather intriguing; but alfalfa produces an effect too stringy and tends to clutter. Let us have no more of it.
Finally, don’t paint your front hall water-cooler with floral scenes. Go to some good marine painter and instruct him to make a decoration in keeping with the purpose of the cooler. There is water inside the vessel, is there not? Then let him paint water outside. Better still, coat your cooler with mucilage and lightly spray powdered mica upon it. But don’t, whatever you do, attempt to ornament your cooler with festoons of gilt tassels. Your cooler is not the place for tassels. I know it is done, but my last and only word on the subject is, Don’t. Tassels of any kind are absolutely out of key on your cooler. They should be kept for your umbrella, where they will give that personal touch that is distinctive.
These constitute most of what dear old General X used frolicsomely to call my “little Don’ties,” and if they prove of some inspiration to the beginning decorator or even to the commencing householder, this work will not have been written in vain.
OTHER BOOKS FOR THE
ANTIQUE-LOVER
By Osro T. Newdleham
THE HAIR-CLOTH ERA
A Book of Furniture-Study for Young People
Containing 16 full-page Illustrations in color, also 114 Reproductions in color of hair-cloth seats, as well as numerous Illustrations in the text.
Large crown 8vo., bound in hair-cloth
By Post, 3/10 PRICE 3/6 NET By Post, 3/10
Some Press Opinions
“This pleasantly written book is well fitted to arouse in young people an interest in the study of hair-cloth and other furniture, while many of the older growth will probably find in its pages much that is not unprofitable reading.... The chief difference between this book and most others on Furniture is the prominence which it gives to distinguishing the different grades of hair-cloth by sitting on them.... Copiously illustrated.” Athenæum.
“Mr. Newdleham’s agreeable, interesting and instructive volume.... It should attract not only young people, but any one looking for an easy introduction to hair-cloth furniture.” Scotsman.
“Comprehensive though it is, it has been planned on clear and simple lines. The terms used are, to begin with, non-scientific, though leading by natural, simple process to the proper scientific words.... The author writes in a free, bright and fascinating style.... One can imagine himself to be sitting on a hair-cloth seat, slipping gracefully from one thought to another.” Meguntic News.
“This fascinating volume.” Dundee Dud.
“I wish in 6-point type to cheer a Book upon the Hair-Cloth Era.” F. B. A. in the New York Whirl.
HOW TO USE THE POLISHING RAG
Containing 20 full-page Illustrations from Photo-micrographs, and many Line-Drawings in the Text.
Large crown 8vo., bound in cloth which may be detached and used as polishing-rag or shew-cloth
By Post, 1/9 PRICE 1/6 NET By Post, 1/9
Some Press Opinions
“There are several cheap books on the polishing rag before the public, but we do not know a better than the one now under consideration.” Boston Transcript.
“This is a rotten book. It is reactionary throughout. Somebody ought to shoot the author.” The New Republic.
“Elaborate explanations are carefully avoided, except in the recipes for furniture polish. The reader who patiently works through these different recipes, especially the one on how to make sherry-flavored polish out of scored prunes, will have an accurate and worth-while knowledge of the possibilities of furniture polishing.” The Police Gazette.
CROSSING THE ANTIQUE DEALER
By M. Spickering Queek
Containing 8 full-page dress-patterns for concealed pockets, and 50 smaller designs for home-made brass-knuckles, tear-gas and slung-shots.
Large square crown 8vo., gilt top
By Post, 5/4 PRICE 5/- NET By Post, 5/4
These stories of outwitting the antique-dealer in city, village and country will be read with much zest by all lovers of the antique. They are brightly written, and are the outcome of long experience at picking up rare autographed books that could not be acquired by purchase, and at outwitting the antique-dealer at his own game. We sympathize with the antique-hunter when the wicked dealer attempts to charge him seventeen dollars for a Benjamin Franklin cup-plate needed to round out his collection, and we rejoice when the hunter slips out in full view of the dealer, leaving his monocle on the counter and using the cup-plate as his monocle. There are equally stirring stories of Sheraton high-boys, an old Colonial cradle, a 36-year-old bottle of Glenlivet whiskey, and an original box of Haskell golf balls with seal unbroken.
Some Press Opinions
“Stories of an unusual antique-sense, showing much close observation and practical knowledge, as well as a bright and pleasant fancy.” Plumbers’ Guide.
“The author artfully combines instruction with advanced and forward-looking ideals.” The Nation.
“A refreshing book, after the wishy-washy, goody-goody trash with which preceding generations have been led astray.” The Dial.
“I am pleased with this book. I have read it entirely through once, and I am thinking of reading it again. I think it would stand four or five readings. It is written in the style that I approve. I shall mention it to all my friends, and I hope that all my friends will mention it.” Hendrik Van Lunkhead in the Biltmore Bun.
TALKS ABOUT TABLE-LEGS
By Frank Flush, B.S., F.A.S.
Containing 36 illustrations of legs, 16 of which are full-page in color.
Small square demy 8vo., cloth, gilt top
PRICE 6/-
Some Press Opinions
“It is written in a most interesting style; and under Mr. Flush’s deft touch, the table-legs seem endowed with almost feminine qualities.” D. H. Lawrence in the N.Y. Times.
“A fascinating introduction to the study of wooden legs.” Cabinetmakers’ Review.
“Mr. Flush has done for table-legs what some of the younger school of American writers, notably F. Scott Fitzgerald, has done for flappers—made them seem almost human.” Tacoma Trade Gazette.
AUTOGRAPHS AND ANTIMACASSARS
By C. Von Whistelberry
Containing 55 illustrations, 31 of which are colored reproductions of unusual autographs.
Crown 4to., canvas boards, with Picture in Color on the Cover
PRICE 1/6
Some Press Opinions
“This would make a charming and welcome gift for children who are just old enough to learn about and be interested in forging and other autograph features.” Sunday School Times.
“In simple and yet glowing words the author introduces us to ‘Autographs and Antimacassars,’ and the glamour of the pictures is sustained as we read about them.” Peanut Growers’ Monthly.
“A mine of information for the antimacassar enthusiast.” Rome (Italy) Avanti.
PEEPS AT PRECIOUS DISCARDS
Edited by the Rev. Charles A. Doolittle, F.R.A.C.S.
Each containing 16 full-page illustrations, 8 of which are in color.
Large crown, 8vo., cloth, with Pictures in color on the cover
Post free, 1/9 PRICE 1/6 NET PER VOLUME Post free, 1/9
List of Volumes
POCKET FLASKS OF THE LONG AGO
By the Rev. Charles A. Doolittle, F.R.A.C.S.
PULSE-WARMERS OF MANY LANDS
By W. Percival Wishback, F.S.S.
WHERE TO HUNT FOR DOOR-KNOCKERS
By A. Nicol Dundreary, F.R.D.K.S.
CHIGNONS AND HAIR-NETS OF OLD NEW ENGLAND
By Daniel Fillwiddle, M.A.
1000 USES FOR FIRE-BUCKETS
By A. M. Slipover
ROMANCE OF A PEWTER-HOUND
By the Rev. Charles A. Doolittle, F.R.A.C.S.
THE BACK-YARD ANTIQUE-COLLECTOR
By Richard Scrimm, F.R.I.P., Superintendent of the
Lemon River Park and Playground Associates
THE ART OF SIGN-PAINTING AND SIGN COLLECTING
By A. Nicol Dundreary, F.R.D.K.S.
PILL ADVERTISEMENTS
By the Rev. Charles A. Doolittle, F.R.A.C.S.
COMMON BRITISH COMMODES
By A. M. Slipover
UNCOMMON BRITISH BATH-TUBS
By the Rev. Charles A. Doolittle, F.R.A.C.S.
HOW TO GET PRESENTATION COPIES FOR NOTHING
By the Rev. James Hookleberry, F.R.A.C.S.
SIGN STEALERS’ MANUAL FOR THE COLLEGE MAN
By Constance May Turnspit
Containing 32 full-page illustrations from Photographs, a frontispiece in color of a fascinating beer-advertisement, and a list of professional bail-furnishers in the leading American and Continental cities.
Small square demy 8vo., cloth, gilt top
By Post, 5/4 PRICE 5/- NET By Post, 5/4
Some Press Opinions
“This handsome book, with its innumerable illustrations, will be of the greatest interest to the progressive college man with an eye for interior decoration. We congratulate the authoress on the pleasing and learned way in which she discourses on the technicalities of removing signs from their fastenings. She has evidently studied minutely the methods of our leading second-story workers.” Sing-Sing Occupant.
“A very taking book.” Manchester Guardian.
“A valuable and handsome souvenir for those bound Up the River.” New York Call.
THE WHATNOT AND HOW TO DECORATE IT
By Agnes Aconite
Containing 8 full-page illustrations by Patten Hairback.
Small square demy 8vo., cloth, gilt top
By Post, 5/4 PRICE 5/- NET By Post, 5/4
Some Press Opinions
“One of the most fascinating of interior decorations, the potentialities of the Whatnot are so little known to the majority of people that this story of its possibilities is of the greatest interest.” Congressional Record.
“In Miss Aconite’s book the Whatnot is drawn so vividly that the reader seems to see it covered with actual seashells, cut glass and cabinet photographs, and follows its career with interest right to its tragic close, when it is broken up to provide fuel during a coal strike.” Herrin (Ill.) Garroter.
“Miss Aconite knows the Whatnot as it is in its haunts, and she presents it with such remarkable clearness and insight that you long to throw a rock at it.” Moscow Izvestia.
Transcriber’s Note (continued)
Errors in punctuation and simple typos have been corrected without note. Variations in spelling, hyphenation, accents, etc., have been left as they appear in the original publication unless as stated in the following:
Page 6 – “solecism ending” changed to “solecism of ending” (solecism of ending a sentence prepositionally)
Page 56 – “Bastile” changed to “Bastille” (fall of the Bastille)
Page 90 – “painting” changed to “paintings” (paintings of anæmic bunches of flowers)
Page 144 – “Brentôme” changed to “Brantôme” (Brantôme, Rabelais, and Casanova)
Footnotes are placed immediately below the paragraph in which the reference to that footnote appears.