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Zuleika Dobson; Or, An Oxford Love Story
·
Sir Max Beerbohm
17
Its
echoes
followed
her
when
she
crossed
the
Atlantic,
till
they
were
lost
in
the
louder,
deeper,
more
blatant
paean
that
rose
for
her
from
the
shores
beyond.
All
the
stops
of
that
“mighty
organ,
many-piped,”
the
New
York
press,
were
pulled
out
simultaneously,
as
far
as
they
could
be
pulled,
in
Zuleika’s
honour.
She
delighted
in
the
din.
She
read
every
line
that
was
printed
about
her,
tasting
her
triumph
as
she
had
never
tasted
it
before.
And
how
she
revelled
in
the
Brobdingnagian
drawings
of
her,
which,
printed
in
nineteen
colours,
towered
between
the
columns
or
sprawled
across
them!
There
she
was,
measuring
herself
back
to
back
with
the
Statue
of
Liberty;
scudding
through
the
firmament
on
a
comet,
whilst
a
crowd
of
tiny
men
in
evening-dress
stared
up
at
her
from
the
terrestrial
globe;
peering
through
a
microscope
held
by
Cupid
over
a
diminutive
Uncle
Sam;
teaching
the
American
Eagle
to
stand
on
its
head;
and
doing
a
hundred-and-one
other
things--whatever
suggested
itself
to
the
fancy
of
native
art.
And
through
all
this
iridescent
maze
of
symbolism
were
scattered
many
little
slabs
of
realism.
Marker
Marker
Fine marker
White-out
Fine white-out
Circle
Paint
Unmarker
Hand
Scalpel
Dice
Sieve
Purify
Undo
Redo
Start over
