Camera Work: A Photographic Quarterly (1907 (Heft 19))

faint outline, like her figure, against the trunk of the maple, and over all an
obstreperous intrusion of nearby hemlock fronds.
I was puzzled at the time, although I have learned since to be glad that
I can see more than a camera. In my more youthful enterprise, I revisited
the mystic spot. As I went quietly, I caught a glimpse of the fox as he
stole away. There was no girl there, and only faint markings on the tree.
I went across to the further fringe of hemlocks, and I circled round them.
The laurels and brush closed in closely and uninvitingly; I did not care for
a thrash through them. I went back to the rock that had served as a seat
for my vision, lighted a cigar, and meditated pleasantly. The thing was
charmingly natural. I glanced luxuriously over the mossy ground, which
was a harmony of greens and browns. Then my eye paused near my feet-
was arrested—fixed. In a bit of smooth mold, velvety with fine moss, was
apparently the print of a girl’s foot, of a small sandal. But further search
was useless, and I turned back to the affairs of men. Now that I am older,
and know more—and less—I have learned to be well content with what small
hints of lovely things the gods may let fall in my way. Even if this forest
nymph were just a tenuous figment of my imagination, she was also a
renascent gleam of the wonder of the world. And the dull copper of young
silver-maple leaves is doubly lovely for her elusive sake.
Dallett Fuguet.

TWEEDLEDUM AND TWEEDLEDEE.

IT appears from the latest number of Camera Work that the entente
cordiale between the British and French is in danger. Certain photog-
raphers are pitching charges and countercharges at one another
across the Channel, mixed up with much vacant chaff about motives
and methods. Stated as clearly as possible, the issue seems to be: Does a
straight photograph insure a straight photographer ? Can a crooked photog-
rapher produce anything but a crooked print ? The conclusion arrived at
on the one side, suggests that crooked ways may be made straight, if
crookedness is an expression of straight intention ; while the other side appear
to rest satisfied, that straight crookedness can not hope to become crookedly
straight.
As, at this distance, we are out of the fun of the fight, the issue
looms rather small. Has photography over there powdered down to a
matter of words, terminological distinctions, and the chaff-chopping logic of
“ What is Art ? ” Predigested breakfast food may be convenient for some
stomachs ; but is hardly a diet for artists. One feels disposed to say of these
contestants : “ Not by their words, but by their works, ye shall know them ; ”
or, as we say in America, “ Gentlemen, deliver the goods.”
For in America also we have had our contentions. Photography has
been on the defensive and offensive, and a good deal of energy that would
better have gone into picture-making has been wasted on polemics. There
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