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Hullo! what's King goin' in to him for King and Prout?" Whatever the nature of that interview, it did not improve either King's or Prout's ruffled plumes, for, when they came out of the Head's house, eyes noted that the one was red and blue with emotion as to his nose, and that the other was sweating profusely.
"Why, King talks about Prout in form-room makes allusions, an' all that only half the chaps are such asses they can't see what he's drivin' at. And d'you remember what he said about the 'Casual House' last Tuesday? He meant us. They say he says perfectly beastly things to his own house, making fun of Prout's," said Beetle.
"Master Prout's authority is absolute in this matter, and not a drop from spigot or bottle runs on your account. Be reasonable, noble captain," he continued, seeing that the sailor was disposed to insist on his demand, "and consider that in refusing thee, I do in some sort prejudice myself for our mutual benefit."
Prout's original coloured sketches he had seen, no doubt, in the exhibition; but he does not seem to have thought of imitating them, for his work in this kind was all intended to be for illustration and not for framing.
They had heard that phrase till they were wearied. The "honor of the house" was Prout's weak point, and they knew well how to flick him on the raw. "If you order us to go down, sir, of course we'll go," said Stalky, with maddening politeness. But Prout knew better than that.
"Well, hold on, till King loses his temper," said Beetle. "He's a libelous old rip, an' he'll be in a ravin' paddy-wack. Prout's too beastly cautious. Keep your eye on King, and, if he gives us a chance, appeal to the Head. That always makes 'em sick." They were summoned to their house-master's study, King and Foxy supporting Prout, and Foxy had three canes under his arm.
While the others were trying to make a little American Barbizon of their own, there were Homer, Ryder, Fuller, Martin, working alone for such vastly opposite ideas, and yet, of these men, four of them were expressing such highly imaginative ideas, and Homer was the unflinching realist among them. I do not know where Homer started, but I believe it was the sea at Prout's Neck that taught him most.
It is evident there was no fooling him. He was filled with yankee tenacity and yankee courage. Homer is what you would expect to find if you were told to hunt up the natives of "Prout's Neck" or "Perkins Cove," or any of the inlets of the Maine coast.
I do not say that all the symbolism in Prout's Sketch is the best possible; but it is the best which any architectural draughtsman has yet invented; and in its application to special subjects it always shows curious internal evidence that the sketch has been made on the spot, and that the artist tried to draw what he saw, not to invent an attractive subject.
I passed it to one of them: we looked at each other, and recognition was mutual. It has been a great privilege to see this city and its environs with so learned a man; I wish you could have shared it. Yesterday he made up a party and we went to Passage, which you may remember in Father Prout's verses:
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