September, 1916 
41 
to be a drover, what more expressive? And 
yet I could have wished him other interests 
in life, and I surmise that you, with a per¬ 
sonality rather varied, at a guess, will en¬ 
counter no great difficulty in making your 
arrangement of pictures as hospitable as it 
is individual. At all events, there remains 
the den—joyous thought! 
Pictures and Impressions 
Plave your fling there. Be devilish, if 
you like. Go in for bulldogs, pugilists, 
show-girls and the Old Scratch himself. 
Be pious, if you like, with a wet lady cling¬ 
ing to a cross on a rock. Be a highbrow if 
An exaggeration? Not a bit. Some folks think that pictures were made to 
hide walls, and act accordingly. They rush in where artists fear to tread , and 
the result is a gigantic nightmare 
The Spirit of It 
Why not ? It is easy. 
Sheep seldom rouse a 
man to thoughts of bat¬ 
tle, murder and sudden 
death. A mother and 
babe will not suggest 
carnage. Neither will 
still life, or an un¬ 
troubled, moonlit marine 
or an enchanted idyl of 
the forest. In their 
presence he can “wrap 
the draperies of his 
couch around him and 
lie down to pleasant dreams” without fum¬ 
bling for a six-shooter beneath his pillow. 
Here you protest, perhaps, “but, man 
alive! I am not rigging this abode of bliss 
to tickle outsiders. I want it to express 
me.” So be it. You can’t help its express¬ 
ing you. Personality, like murder, will out. 
In my student days I belonged to a ghastly 
quartette, who toured the long suffering vil¬ 
lages round about, and put up one night in 
a house adorned from top to bottom with 
cattle-pieces. Cow in the parlor. Cow for 
supper. Cow on the very stairs. I slept 
with at least five Alderneys, a Jersey and 
two “Hollisteins.” As my host turned out 
you must, and frame an autographed 
similitude of Herr Doktor Heinrich 
Karl Otto Johann von Dummkopf. Let 
it be understood that all persons enter¬ 
ing that den do so at their own risk. 
In a way, the library, too, is yours, 
though still a library and therefore in¬ 
viting meditative leisureliness and rumi¬ 
nation. The place for things classic, 
things suggesting study or recalling 
travel, things literary, architectural, his¬ 
torical. The place for your Napoleon, 
your Cromwell; for Dante, Ruskin, 
Stevenson and Tyndall; for Giotto’s 
tower, the Coliseum, or Ann Hatha¬ 
way’s cottage. If you entertain in your 
library, it is less as a rollicking blade 
than as a gentleman and scholar. Your 
friends expect just that. 
The point, then, is all along to think 
definitely what impression you want 
your house to give. In the hall, a dig¬ 
nified cordiality. In the drawing-room 
a spirit of sunny relaxation. In the 
living-room a more personal note. In 
the dining-room festivity. In the 
library, a quiet reflectiveness. In cham¬ 
bers, serenity. Something of a phil¬ 
osopher Maisie must be, if you leave it 
to her, but then, is she not something 
of a philosopher already? In dress, 
say, and manners. She 
will no more wear skit¬ 
tish pink and yellow at 
a funeral than hum the 
Dead March at a wed¬ 
ding. Reason with 
Maisie. Tell her that 
hanging pictures re¬ 
quires at least that de¬ 
gree of tact and perhaps 
several dozen times as 
much, for all you know. 
As to Arrangement 
After considerations 
of feeling, the problem 
of design. How to place 
the pictures, once you 
have chosen the right 
ones for the room? Put 
the m in rows ? Too 
stiff; the eye resents 
things in rows. Hang 
them at random ? It 
will look foolish. Ar¬ 
range symmetrical 
groupings — a b i g pic¬ 
ture, with a little one at 
either side, like a subur¬ 
banite out walking with 
his young? Silly! Then 
in heaven’s name, what? 
Mr. Hazard declined to 
dogmatize. Too much 
depends on color, shape, 
frames and the wall. However, he dropped 
hints. A long row of pictures, with a large 
one in the middle, two smaller ones at the 
sides, and then two large ones at the ends 
will not appear stiff. Pictures hung appar¬ 
ently at random may yet give the effect of 
a coherent, harmonious fabric. Seek or¬ 
der, or at all events the impression of order, 
but without obtrusiveness. As elsewhere, 
the highest art conceals art. And now a 
few “Don’ts” that are briefly to the point. 
Don’t hang pictures so close together that 
the eye, focusing on one, takes in another. 
Don’t hang a picture too high, especially 
(Continued on page 62 ) 
Picture-hanging, then, is an affair of 
the heart, primarily, just as entertain¬ 
ing is, or home-making. Apply your 
psychology. For example, how would 
you have a friend feel when he first 
comes into our house? Overawed? 
Timid? Half muttering, “All hope 
abandon, ye who enter here?” What 
simpler? You can fetch it by hanging 
your hall with pictures whose too 
solemn, ascetic, icy themes breathe the 
chill of a monastery. Or you can pro¬ 
duce a different and worse impression 
—give a shock of personal impropriety, 
or guilt almost, so that he feels less like 
an intruder than like an invader. This 
comes of hanging the hall with intimate 
family portraits. But there is a middle 
course, happily. No need to hold a 
guest at arm’s length. None whatever 
to fall on his neck and weep down his 
back. A gracious reception, at once 
cordial and dignified, expresses itself 
in pictures a bit impersonal, but joy¬ 
ous in subject and prompting the in¬ 
ward exclamation, “What a lovely, in¬ 
viting place! I am glad I came.” Just 
which pictures those are, rests with you. 
It is only on doormats that people print 
“Welcome,” and plague take them! 
Again, what feelings would you in¬ 
still in a guest when 
you tuck him away for 
the night? Storms at 
sea, Rheims Cathedral 
in flames, Charlotte Cor- j 
day on the scaffold, the 
slaughter of the inno- j 
cents (you know that 
style) may bewitch a 
ferocious and blood¬ 
thirsty guest by day, but 
at bed-time, hardly ! A 
mortal going to bed will 
not necessarily demand a 
panorama of other mor¬ 
tals going to bed, yet the 
world is so constituted 
that he wants to be 
soothed. Soothe him. 
Don't hang pictures on a patterned wall paper. 
Wood makes a charming background. So does 
grass cloth in dull tones; in general, the duller 
the better 
