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Updated: May 19, 2025
It cost Stanwell a few minutes' search to unearth his skit a clever blending of dash and sentimentality, in just the right proportion to create the impression of a powerful brush subdued to mildness by the charms of the sitter.
There is almost a hint in the last sentence that he thought du Maurier's genius helped to nurse the crazes it made fun of. Since writing this I have been told by one to whom du Maurier related the incident, that the hero of the æsthetic movement himself, Oscar Wilde, offered to sit to du Maurier for the chief character in his skit.
"Does a minimum guarantee of fifteen thousand a year look like anything to you? There will, of course, be the book rights and the movie rights in addition." "Anagram, epigram, telegram, flimflam aha!" cried D.K.T. "Siam!" He wrote it down. "That little skit of yours," pursued the caller, "has swept the country. You have created a nation-wide demand.
Now, follow me carefully, dad. Five years ago Ann Chester wrote a book of poems. It's on that desk there. You were using it a moment back as second-base or something. Now, I was working at that time on the Chronicle. I wrote a skit on those poems for the Sunday paper. Do you begin to follow the plot?" "She's got it in for you? She's sore?" "Exactly.
So here we have the old sly Elia, fooling people now as he fooled them in his lifetime, and a riddle both to the godly and the ungodly. The great Goethe, whose Walpurgis Night "He-Apes" made Elia put out his tongue, read, we learn, with no little pleasure some fantastic skit of this incorrigible one. Did he discern the sublime Olympian what a cunning flute player lurked under the queer mask?
Then, no less a person than Shelley, writing to Leigh Hunt from Florence in November of the same year, enclosed a Peter Bell the Third which he desired should be printed, yet in such a form as to conceal the name of the author. Perhaps Hunt thought it indiscreet to publish this not very amusing skit, and it did not see the light till long after Shelley's death.
The pamphlet was a skit on the wild enthusiasm over the new Pope with which Italy was still ringing. Like all the Gadfly's writing, it was bitter and vindictive; but, notwithstanding her irritation at the style, Gemma could not help recognizing in her heart the justice of the criticism. "I quite agree with you that it is detestably malicious," she said, laying down the manuscript.
M. Halévy had been at the same college with him, and they had pored together over the same legends of old time, but working without M. Meilhac on Orphée aux Enfers, M. Halévy showed his inferiority, for Orphée is the old-fashioned anachronistic skit on antiquity funny if you will, but with a fun often labored, not to say forced the fun of physical incongruity and exaggeration.
The skit was in the form of a dialogue between Tuscany as the Virgin Mary, and Montanelli as the angel who, bearing the lilies of purity and crowned with the olive branch of peace, was announcing the advent of the Jesuits. The whole thing was full of offensive personal allusions and hints of the most risky nature, and all Florence felt the satire to be both ungenerous and unfair.
He wrote plays for them to act and birthday odes for them to recite. Skit on the recent discovery of the motive power of steam. E. Stanley.
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