When Anna Holman was twelve years old she had to sit perfectly still for one hundred twenty seconds—think of it! two whole minutes!—to have her picture taken. Now she could have it taken in one hundredth of the time at one hundredth of the cost.
The only likenesses of people which Anna knew about before she was twelve were the pictures in the parlor of her home. Two of these were pictures of her Grandfather and Grandmother Holman, whom she had never seen. These pictures always interested her, though for a certain reason she did not like them.
Anna had been told that her grandmother was a great beauty in her day, and she often tried to see if she could tell how her grandmother had looked. This she never felt sure she knew, as the picture was only a silhouette. Of all the different kinds of pictures that people have had made, the silhouette, surely, is the most unsatisfactory.
These were not uncommon in the days before photography was known. They were made by using a strong light to obtain a clear, black shadow of the profile of the sitter, and then cutting from plain black paper as perfect a copy as possible of the shadow head. Of course, the sitter was always posed for a direct side view in order to get an outline of the features; and, of course, in such a picture the expression of the face was wholly lacking.
Silhouettes of Grandfather and Grandmother
When Grandmother Holman sat for her silhouette and the picture maker had cut out the little black shadow which her beautiful head had made, Grandfather Holman said, "It is perfect, Rebecca"; and then when Grandfather Holman, in turn, had sat for his picture and the picture maker had cut a silhouette which showed very little but his straight nose and strong chin, Grandmother Holman said: "It is just like you, James."
They knew each other well enough to supply the expression which the pictures lacked. In fact they were so well pleased with the little black paper heads that they had them mounted on white cards and framed for the parlor, never dreaming how these same silhouettes would some day disappoint a little granddaughter who wanted to know how her grandparents had really looked.
In the same room was a life-size oil portrait of Anna's great grandfather. This she liked, and she felt that she knew just how he had looked.
"Why didn't Grandmother Holman have some artist paint a picture of her?" Anna asked her mother one day.