jars, the leaf fans,
the upholstered "cosy corner" with its row of blue plates, with which
all who know their _Punch_ are familiar, and apparently the very
wall-paper to which we have just referred. It certainly is the mark of a
great artist to take practically whatever is before him for treatment.
The artist with the genius for "interior" subjects seems to be able to
re-interpret ugliness itself very often. Du Maurier's weak eyes
prevented him from bearing the strain of outdoor work. He was
practically driven indoors for his subjects; and in taking what was to
hand--the very environment of the kind of people his drawings
describe--he showed considerable genius. He succeeded in making whole
volumes of _Punch_ into a work of criticism on the domestic art of the
nineteenth century.

[Illustration: Illustration for "The Story of a Feather" 1867.]

Among the useful skits of du Maurier was that upon the conceited young
man concealing appalling ignorance with the display of a still more
appalling indifference to everything. The drawing among the Print-room
series--"_It is always well to be well informed_"--is a good instance.
It reveals a ballroom with couples dancing a quadrille. A lady asks
her partner: "Who's my sister's partner, vis-a-vis, with the star and
riband?" He: "Oh, he--aw--he's Sir Somebody Something, who went
somewhere or othaw to look after some scientific fellaw who was
murdered, or something, by someone--!" The word _othaw_ in this legend
is itself pictorial. Du Maurier was like our own Max Beerbohm in
this--his legends and drawings were inseparable. We find he has actually
penned in the side margin of the drawing the words "othaw fellaw," we
suppose as a possible variant to "scientific fellow," and in the legend
the word "other" has been written over with a thickened
termination--"_aw._" The usual first trial of the speech in pencil
remains but partly obliterated by india-rubber at the top of the
drawing.

In his series of "Happy Thoughts" du Maurier followed the course of the
sort of rapid thought that precedes a tactful reply with real
psychological skill. Take, for instance, his drawing of an artist
sitting gloomily before his fire, caressed by his wife, who bends over
him, saying, "You seem depressed, darling. Have you had a pleasant
dinner?" Edwin: "Oh, pretty well; Bosse was in the chair, of course. He
praised everybody's work this year except mine." Angelina: "Oh! I'm so
glad. _At last_ he is beg