CHAPTER VII
PORCELAIN AT LAST
Progress toward health now became quite rapid, for Theo, being a normal boy, the injured bone knit quickly, and before long Dr. Swift said:
"I have sent for some crutches for you, son, and as soon as they come I see no reason why you should not be up and about. Of course you cannot expect to go hiking off over these rough trails; but you can certainly get out of bed and move about the camp."
Theo's eyes sparkled.
"My, but won't it seem good!" he sighed.
"I am sure it will," answered the Doctor. "You have been very patient, Theo."
"Going to get the invalid up, Doctor?" questioned Mr. Croyden, who had just poked his head in at the door.
"Yes, just as soon as the crutches I have ordered from New York arrive."
Mr. Croyden looked rueful.
"That means I shall be losing my lecture audience," he mourned playfully. "You will no longer be a spoiled child, Theo, after those crutches come. We shan't serve all your meals in your room, nor give you the biggest fish in the catch. You will have to come down to common fare like the rest of us."
"You won't find me doing any fussing on that score," laughed Theo. "As for the lectures—why, I have a season ticket, and shall expect a lecture every day."
"Mercy on us!" gasped Mr. Croyden. "Do you realize, young man, that I came into these woods to rest? If I am to make pottery and porcelain with you every day I might just as well be at home.
Nevertheless it was plain that the elder man was pleased.
"Well, so long as you have secured a season ticket in advance I suppose there is no help for it," he added with a comic expression of resignation. "When, by the by, does the next lecture come?"
Theo pretended to produce an imaginary ticket from his pocket and consult it.
"The next lecture seems to be listed for this evening just after dinner," he replied gravely.
"It does, does it!" exclaimed Mr. Croyden. "Very well; the lecturer will be ready at seven sharp. I make it a point never to disappoint an audience."
With a good-natured laugh he was gone.
"I hope I don't bother Mr. Croyden too much, Father," observed Theo reflectively, after the older man was out of hearing.
"I guess you don't," answered the Doctor. "At first I was afraid you might be taking too much of his time, so I asked him; but I soon found he enjoyed these talks quite as much as you. He is a good talker, and like the rest of us finds it pleasant to discuss his hobby. I begged him to be frank and tell you whenever he was too tired or busy to talk, and he promised he would."
"He has been mighty good to me."
"He certainly has," agreed Dr. Swift. "He likes boys very much. It is a pity he has no son of his own."
"It is a shame!" exclaimed Theo. "He would make such a splendid father for some boy."
Dr. Swift nodded.
"Boys are of course a great nuisance, and they make us lots of trouble," he remarked dryly, "but they are good things to have in the house in spite of that."
As he rose to go he cast a whimsical glance at his son.
"I'll leave you this book to read," he said. "Mother sent it. And here are some letters. Here, too, is a picture puzzle which looks as if it might keep you busy for some time. I guess you won't be idle before I get back."
Theo met his eye with a bright smile.
"I guess I won't have a chance to be," he replied.
The book proved to be an aeroplane story of just the kind Theo liked; and the puzzle was so hard that he worked on it at intervals most of the day. Then came twilight and with it a game of cribbage with his father, after which he had a deliciously cooked dinner of fried perch, browned potatoes, and a marvelous three-story chocolate pie, a masterpiece of Franz's cookery.
"I think this has been about the best day yet," Theo remarked when promptly at seven Mr. Croyden drew his chair up into the firelight. "Father does plan such jolly things for me to do! And you, and Manuel, and Franz are so kind!"
"Those of us who have our legs ought to be, that's sure," was Mr. Croyden's grim response. "It is the least we can do. In my opinion you have been a real hero, Theo. If my leg had been broken I should never have been so patient. You would have seen me storming round like a caged tiger. In fact I doubt even if lectures delivered by such a brilliant speaker as myself would have kept me still."
Theo chuckled.
"What is the subject of the lecture you are to give this evening?" he inquired with mock seriousness.
"Wasn't it printed on your ticket?"
"No, sir."
"No?" exclaimed Mr. Croyden in surprise. "A great oversight! The man who printed these tickets is a stupid fellow. I believe I shall have to discharge him and try somebody else. The subject of this evening's lecture is, of course,
Porcelain."
"Porcelain! Have we really come to porcelain at last!" cried Theo, much delighted.
"Yes, we have now finished with the potteries and earthenwares—at least for the present, and we shall begin on porcelain, the great art-work of the Chinese."
Mr. Croyden stopped to cram tobacco into his pipe.
"Already I have told you that the Chinese made beautiful porcelains from kaolin and petuntse, two clays which produced a hard, semi-transparent china," he began. "And I have also told you how for a long time they were the only nation to have a knowledge of the necessary ingredients for such a ware. I only wish I had here at this moment some specimens of the exquisite porcelains they have made that you might see them and get some idea of their richness and beauty. It is difficult to describe them in words."
"Maybe when we go home Father will take me to the Metropolitan Museum to see some Chinese porcelains," suggested Theo.
"I am sure he will," Mr. Croyden said. "And if he is too busy to do it, I will take you myself. Maybe some day we could go china-hunting together."
"That would be corking!"
"I'd enjoy it as much as you," affirmed Mr. Croyden. "We would prowl around among the different collections and look for the celebrated Nankin blue which, although not strictly speaking a porcelain, would give you a glimpse of some of the finest work ever done in a blue and white ware. Of the very early Chinese porcelains we should, alas, find no specimens, because most of these were destroyed during the wars that raged against the various ancient dynasties; but we should see some examples of what is called the Chrysanthemo-Pæonienne period."
"Jove, what a name!"
"Not such a terrible one when you think about it," returned Mr. Croyden. "Get to work with your brain and you can soon tell me what it means."
"Chrysanthe——" ruminated Theo, thinking aloud. "Has it anything to do with chrysanthemum?"
"It surely has. Go on," urged the elder man encouragingly.
"Pæonienne—I'll bet it is another flower! Peony?"
"There you have it!" came triumphantly from the china manufacturer. "It was not half as bad as it sounded, you see. Chrysanthemums and peonies—the two flowers almost exclusively used as decoration on the porcelain of that particular period. So universally was one or the other of these flowers employed, and so individual was their treatment, that the name serves to cover one of the oldest types of Chinese porcelain remaining to us. This porcelain was not so beautiful, however, as some of that which follows it; the clay or body of the ware being less fine. One can easily see that at that time the Chinese had not perfected their art. Nevertheless it is remarkable, and the flower designs on it most artistic."
"And what came next?" inquired Theo.
"Next we come to some other varieties of porcelains which connoisseurs have grouped together because of their color and called Famille-vert. Think out what that name means as you did the other. You have studied French at school, haven't you?"
"A little," replied Theo modestly. "Famille is family; and I think vert is green. But of course it could not mean Green Family."
"That is precisely what it does mean," Mr. Croyden returned heartily. "The name refers to the delicate color of the ware. 'Sky after a summer rain' was what the Chinese sometimes poetically called it. It is a porcelain of wonderful rarity and beauty. Some of it even ranges to as deep hue as apple-green. One does not find much of it now, for it is a very choice and expensive variety; nor was it widely made. The ware for which the Chinese were most celebrated was the
Famille-rose."
"Rose Family!" exclaimed Theo, instantly.
"Yes. Broadly speaking the Red Family. I am glad to see you have your French so at your tongue's end. This porcelain of the Rose Family was the masterpiece of the Chinese. The word rose did not in this case refer to the flower but to the rich red tone of the porcelain. Some of it is as deep and almost as brilliant as a ruby; and neither its decoration nor its coloring can be surpassed. For the Chinese, you must not forget, were the most original and unhampered of artists. They were never content to copy flowers, faces, or figures as we do to-day. Instead they aimed to catch the spirit of the object from which they were working, and then with freedom and boldness to execute a design that should have something more than mere reproduction in it. It did not matter in the least to them if a flower in one of their pictures was sometimes larger than a man; or a boat many sizes bigger than the bridge beneath which it sailed. They were making a sort of fairyland decoration where anything they pleased was possible; it was not a world of fact. As a result they got an imaginative quality in their decoration which none of our more prosaic and literal western nations have ever equaled."
Mr. Croyden took a pull at his pipe.
"Much of their design was symbolic, and much of the coloring they used had a national significance. For example, the Dragon was a symbol of empire and power; the Dog, a sacred animal, was often used; but it was no ordinary dog. Instead it had great teeth, a curling mane, and claws like a lion. A Chinese artist would have scorned to copy a real dog, for that would not have been considered art; nor would a picture of any living type of dog be half as imposing as was this imaginary creature with its fierce teeth, mane, and claws. Sometimes the Kylin, a sort of stag with a dragon's head, and a symbol of good-fortune, was used. There were many other of these symbolic designs employed to enhance the beauty of Chinese porcelains, and of course to the Chinese each one had its meaning."
"It is an interesting idea, isn't it?" Theo said slowly.
"Very; and makes much of our own art seem pitifully thin. And when you consider that the colors the Chinese used also had their meaning, as did various geometric forms introduced, you can readily see how much one must study to understand Chinese—and for that matter, Japanese art; for the Japanese used much the same methods in decorating their potteries and porcelains, although of course their symbolism varied. With the Chinese green and vermilion were colors sacred to the wall decorations of Emperors' houses; red typified fire; black, water; green, wood; white, metal. Fire was also sometimes represented by a circle, and the earth by a square. All this I tell you that you may see how much thought went into everything they did. In addition certain objects were made for especial purposes, and decorated in accordance with their use. There were drinking cups for poets, authors, and government officials, each cup having an appropriate picture in the bottom. Then there were incense-burners, vases, bowls, and vessels for libations at ceremonials; there were, too, statues of the various gods. Besides these many types of workmanship the Chinese made a very thin egg-shell porcelain, the most fragile and transparent of which we now get from Japan; and a porcelain decorated with a fine, open-work design cut through the ware, and styled 'grains-of-rice pattern.' Moreover they manufactured a variety which in firing took on a crackled effect and has for that reason been christened Chinese Crackle. You see how many kinds of thing they worked out."
"I should say so!" exclaimed Theo.
"Most of the painting of Chinese porcelain was done directly on the glaze instead of underneath it, although some of the brush work was done on the clay itself before the glaze was put over it. In either case the ware required several firings, and before even such a simple article as a cup was completed it frequently passed through as many as seventy pairs of hands. Add to this the dangers risked in packing and importing, and the tumult of the many wars that racked China, and is it anything short of a marvel that so many perfect pieces of ancient make have come down to us?"
"I think it is wonderful that all of them were not broken," gasped Theo.
"It is not until 1171 that there is any mention of porcelain being seen outside of China. Then the Mohammedan Saladin sent as a present to another ruler forty pieces of Chinese porcelain. In 1487 the Sultan of Turkey gave to Lorenzo de Medici, a great art lover, a porcelain vase. After that porcelain began, as I have already told you, to find its way into Europe—first through the Portuguese traders, and later through the Dutch. What we know of Chinese porcelain applies largely to that of Japan, because for many years Japan was merely an imitator of China so far as porcelain-making was concerned. By and by, however, the Japanese Government encouraged the industry by giving money toward its manufacture, and as a result about the year 1200 the porcelains of the Japanese rivaled those of China. The Chrysanthemo-Pæonienne was worked out to a degree of perfection hitherto unknown; and the Famille-rose was also made, but not as perfectly as in China. The Famille-vert, on the contrary, was not attempted to any extent in Japan, probably because the Japanese lacked the necessary clays to make it."
Mr. Croyden paused as if reflecting, then added:
"As I explained to you, the Japanese had their symbolism of color and design as well as the Chinese; and not only did they make similar sorts of porcelain, but they subsequently invented styles of decoration of their own. They did much medallion-painting, a form of design unknown in China. They also gave to the world their wonderful Japanese lacquer, a varnish of gums that could be applied not only to wood but in some cases to porcelain. They also were the race to invent Cloisonné ware, a very difficult type of thing when made as they made it. To the surface of the porcelain they fastened a tiny metal outline of the design and afterward filled in the spaces between it with colored enamels. You can easily see what careful workmanship such a process required."
"We have a Cloisonné vase at home," said Theo soberly, "but I never knew it was made that way."
"If it is the genuine old Japanese Cloisonné it was," answered Mr. Croyden. "The Japanese also gave us the Mandarin china so highly prized by collectors. This is an interesting ware because on it we find the tiny Mandarins pictured in the decoration, wearing their little toques or caps topped with the button denoting their rank. You see when the Thsing victors conquered the Ming Dynasty of China they decreed that many of the old Chinese customs and modes of dress should give place to those of Japan. Among other things they ordered that officials wear the toque or mandarin-cap. The Chinese were, as you can well imagine, very angry; and although they wore the cap you see no little mandarins thus arrayed adorning their porcelain. But the Japanese not only immortalized these reminders of their supremacy on their chinaware, but they even took some of their mandarin-decorated porcelain to China and forced the Chinese to buy it. In most collections you will find some of this Mandarin china; but remember, although it may have come from China, it probably was not made there."
Theo smiled.
"The Japanese came in time to be great traders," continued Mr. Croyden, "and they are going to be still greater ones some day. They invented many other kinds of pottery and porcelain which they sold to the merchants of Holland. Satsuma is a pottery in which they excelled. It has a body of cream-colored earthenware not unlike Wedgwood's Queen's ware, and this is richly decorated in dull colors and gold. In order to please the Dutch traders the Japanese even painted angels, saints, and other Christian figures both on their pottery and porcelain, which proves they must have been pretty eager for European customers. At the present moment they are equally willing to cater to American and European demands, and to gratify our inartistic public by sending into our markets all sorts of cheap, gaudily decorated goods which they themselves would not tolerate. It is a deplorable fact, too, that we buy them. Now you surely have got your money's worth of lecture for to-night. If you are not tired, I am. Good-night, sonny!"
"Good-night," called Theo as Mr. Croyden passed out, "and thank you. I'm sorry you're tired. I am not. I could listen all over again."
