| Untitled Page 3wild and beautiful, sketches char-
ming, walking tours and excursi-
ons. Poetic down [strikethrough] and [/strikethrough] the lovely
Chine, fine cliffs, everything (ex-
cept odious Fashionables.) My bro-
thers and cousin catch us shrimps,
prawns and lobsters, and keep
aquariums. Ah and I will tell you
a Popehenic anecdote. I thought it
would look strikingly graceful
etc to wear sea-anemones round my
forehead. (Mermaids do it, you
know. Fragment from an unpublish-
ed?) So I put a large one on in
the middle, and it fixed itself cor-
rectly. Now one has heard of their
stinging, but I had handled them
so often unharmed, and who could
have imagined a creature stinging
with its - base, you call it in Sea
[end page]
[start page]
anemones? But it did, loudly, and
when the pain had ceased a mark
remained, which is now a large red
sear.
About Millais' Eve of S. Agnes, you
ought to have known me well enough
to be sure I should like it. Of course
I do intensely - not wholly perhaps
as Keats' Madeline but as the con-
ception of her by a genius. I think over
this picture, which I could only un-
happily see once, and it, or the memo-
ry of it, grows upon me. Those three
pictures by Millais in this years' acade-
my have opened my eyes. I see that
he is the greatest English painter,
one of the greatest of the world.
[Eddes?], the painter, said to me that
he thought some of its best men - he
instanced Millais - were leaving the
school. Very unfairly, as you will | Untitled Page 3wild and beautiful, sketches char-
ming, walking tours and excursi-
ons. Poetic down [strikethrough] and [/strikethrough] the lovely
Chine, fine cliffs, everything (ex-
cept odious Fashionables.) My bro-
thers and cousin catch us shrimps,
prawns and lobsters, and keep
aquariums. Ah and I will tell you
a Popehenic anecdote. I thought it
would look strikingly graceful
etc to wear sea-anemones round my
forehead. (Mermaids do it, you
know. Fragment from, an unpublish-
ed?) So I put a large on in
the middle, and it fixed itself cor-
rectly. Now one has head of their
stinging, but I had handled them
so often unharmed, and who could
have imagined a creature stinging
with its - base, you call it in Sea
[end page]
[start page]
anemones? But it did, loudly, and
when the pain had ceased a mark
remined, which is now a large red
sear.
About Millais' Eve of S. Agnes, you
ought to have known me well enough
to be sure I should like it. Of course
I do intensely - not wholly perhaps
as Keats' Madeline but as the con-
ception of her by a genius. I think over
this picture, which I could only un-
happily see once, and it, or the memo-
ry of it, grows upon me. Those three
pictures by Millais in this years' acade-
my have opened my eyes. I see that
he is the greatest English painter,
one of the greatest of the world.
[Eddes?], the painter, said to me that
he thought some of its best men - he
instanced Millais - were leaving the
school. Very unfairly, as you will |
EN