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sometimes lurks there with such an effect of vitality as you will
hardly get from the shallower pink of the flaxened haired。 And the
suggestion is that of late summer； the colour of wheat almost ready
for the harvest； and darker； redder flowerspoppies and others
than come in Spring。
The dark eyes； besides； are generally brighterthey shelter a more
liquid light than the blue or grey。 Southern eyes have generally
most beautiful whites。 And as to the charm of the childish figure；
there is usually an infantine slenderness in the little Southener
that is at least as young and sweet as the round form of the blond
child。 And yet the painters of Italy would have none of it。 They
rejected the dusky brilliant pale little Italians all about them；
they would have none but flaxen…haired children； and they would have
nothing that was slim； nothing that was thin； nothing that was
shadowy。 They rejoiced in much fair flesh； and in all possible
freshness。 So it was in fair Flanders as well as in dark Italy。
But so it was not in Spain。 The Pyrenees seemed to interrupt the
tradition。 And as Murillo saw the charm of dark heads； and the
innocence of dark eyes； so did one English painter。 Reynolds
painted young dark hair as tenderly as the youngest gold。
REAL CHILDHOOD
The world is old because its history is made up of successive
childhoods and of their impressions。 Your hours when you were six
were the enormous hours of the mind that has little experience and
constant and quick forgetfulness。 Therefore when your mother's
visitor held you so long at his knee； while he talked to her the
excited gibberish of the grown…up； he little thought what he forced
upon you； what the things he called minutes really were； measured by
a mind unused； what passive and then what desperate weariness he
held you to by his slightly gesticulating hands that pressed some
absent…minded caress； rated by you at its right value； in the pauses
of his anecdotes。 You； meanwhile； were infinitely tired of watching
the play of his conversing moustache。
Indeed； the contrast of the length of contemporary time （this
pleonasm is inevitable） is no small mystery； and the world has never
had the wit fully to confess it。
You remembered poignantly the special and singular duration of some
such space as your elders； perhaps； called half…an…hourso
poignantly that you spoke of it to your sister； not exactly with
emotion； but still as a dreadful fact of life。 You had better
instinct than to complain of it to the talkative； easy…living；
occupied people； who had the management of the world in their hands…
…your seniors。 You remembered the duration of some such separate
half…hour so well that you have in fact remembered it until now； and
so now； of course； will never forget it。
As to the length of Beethoven； experienced by you on duty in the
drawing room； it would be curious to know whether it was really
something greater than Beethoven had any idea of。 You sat and
listened； and tried to fix a passage in your mind as a kind of half…
way mark； with the deliberate provident intention of helping
yourself through the time during a future hearing； for you knew too
well that you would have to bear it all again。 You could not do the
same with sermons； because； though even more fatiguing； they were
more or less different each time。
While your elders passed over some particularly tedious piece of
roadand a very tedious piece of road existed within short distance
of every house you lived in or stayed inin their usual state of
partial absence of mind； you； on the contrary； perceived every inch
of it。 As to the length of a bad night； or of a mere time of
wakefulness at night； adult words do not measure it； they hardly
measure the time of merely waiting for sleep in childhood。
Moreover； you were tired of other things； apart from the duration of
timethe names of streets； the names of tradesmen； especially the
fournisseurs of the household； who lived in them。
You were bored by people。 It did not occur to you to be tired of
those of your own immediate family； for you loved them immemorially。
Nor were you bored by the newer personality of casual visitors；
unless they held you； as aforesaid； and made you so listen to their
unintelligible voices and so look at their mannered faces that they
released you an older child than they took you prisoner。 Butit is
a reluctant confessionyou were tired of your relations； you were
weary of their bonnets。 Measured by adult time； those bonnets were；
it is to be presumed； of no more than reasonable duration； they had
no more than the average or common life。 You have no reason；
looking back； to believe that your great…aunts wore bonnets for
great and indefinite spaces of time。 But； to your sense as a child；
long and changing and developing days saw the same harassing
artificial flowers hoisted up with the same black lace。 You would
have had a scruple of conscience as to really disliking the face；
but you deliberately let yourself go in detesting the bonnet。 So
with dresses； especially such as had any little misfit about them。
For you it had always existed； and there was no promise of its
ceasing。 You seemed to have been aware of it for years。 By the
way； there would be less cheap reproving of little girls for
desiring new clothes if the censors knew how immensely old their old
clothes are to them。
The fact is that children have a simple sense of the unnecessary
ugliness of things； and thatapart from the effects of ennuithey
reject that ugliness actively。 You have stood and listened to your
mother's compliments on her friend's hat； and have made your mental
protest in very definite words。 You thought it hideous； and hideous
things offended you then more than they have ever offended you
since。 At nine years old you made people； alas！ responsible for
their faces； as you do still in a measure； though you think you do
not。 You severely made them answer for their clothes； in a manner
which you have seen good reason； in later life； to mitigate。 Upon
curls； or too much youthfulness in the aged； you had no mercy。 To
sum up the things you hated inordinately； they were friskiness of
manner and of trimmings； and curls combined with rather bygone or
frumpish fashions。 Too much childish dislike was wasted so。
But you admired some things without regard to rules of beauty learnt
later。 At some seven years old you dwelt with delight upon the
contrast of a white kid glove and a bright red wrist。 Well； this is
not the received arrangement； but red and white do go well together；
and their distribution has to be taught with time。 Whose were the
wrist and glove？ Certainly some one's who must have been distressed
at the bouquet of colour that you admired。 This； however； was but a
local admiration。 You did not admire the girl as a whole。 She whom
you adored was always a married woman of a certain age； rather
faded； it might be； but always divinely elegant。 She alone was
worthy to stand at the side of your mother。 You lay in wait for the
border of her train； and dodged for a chance of holding her bracelet
when she played。 You com