I fell into a strange mood as I looked at the lake, for it seemed to me that the thing would speak, reveal some curious secret, say some beautiful word, if I should dare to wrinkle its pale face with a pebble.
Then the lake took fantastic shapes, grew to twenty times its size, or shrank into a miniature of itself, without ever losing its unruffled calm and deathly reserve. When the waters increased I was very frightened, for I thought how huge the frogs must have become, I thought of their big eyes and monstrous wet feet; but when the water lessened I laughed to myself, for I thought how tiny the frogs must have grown, I thought of their legs that must look thinner than spiders', and of their dwindled croaking that never could be heard.
Perhaps the lake was only painted after all; I had seen things like it at the theatre. Anyhow it was a wonderful lake, a beautiful lake.
[TWO LETTERS OF AUBREY BEARDSLEY]
Beardsley unfortunately wrote but few letters. The following is characteristic of the humorous courtesy with which he received criticism:
To the Editor of the Pall Mall Budget.
"SIR,—So much exception has been taken, both by the Press and by private persons, to my title-page of 'The Yellow Book,'[1] that I must plead for space in your valuable paper to enlighten those who profess to find my picture unintelligible. It represents a lady playing the piano in the middle of a field. Unpardonable affectation! cry the critics. But let us listen to Bomvet.
"Christopher Willibald Ritter von Glück, in order to warm his imagination and to transport himself to Aulis or Sparta, was accustomed to place himself in the middle of a field. In this situation, with his piano before him, and a bottle of champagne on each side, he wrote in the open air his two "Iphigenias," his "Orpheus," and some other works.' I tremble to think what critics would say had I introduced those bottles of champagne. And yet we do not call Gluck a decadent.
"Yours obediently
"AUBREY BEARDSLEY.
"THE BODLEY HEAD,
"VIGO STREET, W.
"April 27."
The Daily Chronicle on the occasion of the publication of "Plays" by John Davidson, in criticising Beardsley's frontispiece,[2] deplored the introduction of "two well-known faces of the day." In the following day's issue Beardsley wittily excused himself in the following letter to the editor:
"AN ERROR OF TASTE"
"SIR,—In your review of Mr. Davidson's plays, I find myself convicted of an error of taste, for having introduced portraits into my frontispiece to that book. I cannot help feeling that your reviewer is unduly severe. One of the gentlemen who forms part of my decoration is surely beautiful enough to stand the test even of portraiture, the other owes me half a crown.
"I am, yours truly,
"AUBREY BEARDSLEY.
"114 CAMBRIDGE STREET, S.W.
"March 1, 1894."