No More Learning

And----"

"It's this," said the red-haired girl behind him. "I was reading it to
Maisie the other day from The City of Dreadful Night. D'you know the
book? "

"A little. I am sorry I spoke. There are pictures in it. What has taken
her fancy? "

"The description of the Melancolia--

'Her folded wings as of a mighty eagle,
But all too impotent to lift the regal
Robustness of her earth-born strength and pride.

And here again. (Maisie, get the tea, dear. )

'The forehead charged with baleful thoughts and dreams,
The household bunch of keys, the housewife's gown,
Voluminous indented, and yet rigid
As though a shell of burnished metal frigid,
Her feet thick-shod to tread all weakness down. "

There was no attempt to conceal the scorn of the lazy voice. Dick
winced.

"But that has been done already by an obscure artist by the name of
Durer," said he. "How does the poem run?
--

'Three centuries and threescore years ago,
With phantasies of his peculiar thought. '

You might as well try to rewrite Hamlet. It will be a waste of time. "

"No, it won't," said Maisie, putting down the teacups with a clatter to
reassure herself. "And I mean to do it. Can't you see what a beautiful
thing it would make? "

"How in perdition can one do work when one hasn't had the proper
training? Any fool can get a notion. It needs training to drive the
thing through,--training and conviction; not rushing after the first
fancy. " Dick spoke between his teeth.

"You don't understand," said Maisie. "I think I can do it. "

Again the voice of the girl behind him--

"Baffled and beaten back, she works on still;
Weary and sick of soul, she works the more.

Sustained by her indomitable will,
The hands shall fashion, and the brain shall pore,
And all her sorrow shall be turned to labour----

I fancy Maisie means to embody herself in the picture. "

"Sitting on a throne of rejected pictures? No, I shan't, dear.