“Students of the Fun-and-Frolic Art School,” said Joe, “we have met for mutual deterioration in art. As you all ought to know, but no doubt many of you do not, Sir Edward Landseer was a great artist in dogs, Rosa Bonheur is a great artist in horses and kine, but we unitedly will be great artists in—pigs.”
“Pigs?”
“Yes, ladies and gentleman, I repeat it—PIGS! Is there anyone in the class who can draw a pig?”
“I can draw one, such as the boys draw on their slates at school,” said Adale.
“Please draw one then,” said cousin Joe. In a moment Adale had accomplished the task and handed him the result.
“This,” said Joe, as he held it up in view of the class, “this is
THE CONVENTIONAL PIG.
“You see it doesn’t look like a pig, but every boy knows it is intended to represent a pig. If it looked a good deal more like a pig he might not recognize it. Thus conventional politeness does not resemble real politeness, yet everybody knows what it is intended to represent. There is a moral in that remark somewhere—if you can find it—and now we’ll go on with the lesson. The first thing you must do in order to become an artist in my school is to shut your eyes.”
“Shut our eyes!”