Chapter III: Outline—animals

Having made as plain as I can the method to be adopted in piping the preceding outline sketches, I will leave the aquatic subject in the hands of the advancing student, and, as we have gone fairly well—as far as variety is concerned—into ornithological designs, I think we may venture to touch upon the borders of that boundless field for practice—the animal world. Here it is somewhat difficult to select anything for the initial stages as being easier of execution than its fellows—that being a matter of opinion. All are beautiful in design, and well fitted for their usefulness and their needs, and we as copyists from Nature have first of all to acquire an anatomical knowledge of the general form of our living model, and then crown that knowledge by a never-ceasing observance of its characteristic attitudes, so that we may, by a few slight pressures of the paper cornet, give expression to the animal we endeavour to portray. However, I think that the deer tribes have, from time immemorial, lent themselves to the causes of art, and, as far as I can see, are as easy as anything; but I would advise anyone to avoid, as much as possible, the study of those to be seen on some of the old tapestries, or reproductions, which we see occasionally in the illustrated papers from the pictures by the “old masters”; because, if these were taken from life, we can only come to the conclusion that the breed of stags in those days was very different to what it is now—and we don’t want to study deer as they _were_, but as they _are_. It is not very easy for the young piper to study these beautiful creatures from life, unless he happens to live within easy distance of such places as Windsor or Richmond Park. True, the Londoner can view a few specimens in the Zoological Gardens; but they are mostly foreigners, and, of course, are not seen at their best within a wired enclosure, although even that is an opportunity which should not be lost sight of; and, failing that we can all have the benefit of the great and accurate pictures which England’s greatest animal painter—Sir Edwin Landseer—has left behind for our admiration and our education. Supposing, then, for a start, we take a couple of deer—the ordinary red deer of deer-stalking fame—wild and unfettered in his Highland home. We have few opportunities of seeing him, so we have to draw a little on the imagination and the description of those who have. True, he is used for stag-hunting in England, but on entirely different conditions to the first named sport; for here he is deprived of his horns, and kept in a semi-domesticated condition, taken to the place of meeting in a cart, released, and, after a time limit, the hounds are laid on his track. He seldom gets killed, however, for, when he has had enough of the sport, he usually trots into some farmhouse or out-building, is recaptured, and lives to run another day.

To commence the subject I have selected, take a fine-pointed cornet, with the usual amount of Glacé Royal therein, and start piping the top part of the head of stag, which is intended to represent one that is looking the other way; in this position I think it advisable to complete the head, including the antlers, before starting with the body. Now take your line down the front part of the neck to the lowest point of the shoulders, and then another line from the back of the neck over the withers to the root of the tail, then over the haunch down to the hock of the left leg, which it will be noticed is slightly forward. The fore legs may now be completed, and the line brought under the stomach, the left hind leg finished, and the right hind leg slightly extended backward, as if suddenly brought up to the halt by something which has attracted the animal’s attention. The tail can now be added, and a very brief inspection will suffice to convince the student if this outline figure is in proper proportion, always remembering that a stag has a rather “tubby” appearance about the body in proportion to the thinness of his legs. He does not appear to be symmetrically built for speed, like the racehorse or greyhound, for instance; but he can go for all that. His mate, the hind, which is represented on the left, may be piped first from the top of the head and down to the throat; the ears may then be put on, and the line for the back of the neck brought down over the withers along the back, over the rump, and down to the back of the forelegs which may now be put in; then the stomach and the hind legs completed, and this will constitute the first outline group in the animal life. Of course, there is a variety of positions in which we may pipe a stag, and, later on, these will be touched upon: but while the student is learning the one thoroughly, he is laying in a store of ability to branch off in whichever way his fancy leads him.

We will now take for our object-lesson, that good all-round servant of man—the horse. Although we need not go far afield to get our model this time, he is by no means so easy to accomplish as his plentitude would imply—for there are horses _and_ horses; they have not got that “turned out of the same mould” appearance that stags have, but the variety is very great indeed, while some that we may see in our travels are just beyond the attentions of the R.S.P.C.A., and others there are, though sound in wind and limb, are anything but “things of beauty.” Still, we must make our selection, and as the average Englishman invariably prides himself on some sort of knowledge of our equine friend, it is to be assumed that the reader will know what sort to select and that to avoid when he comes to originate his own subjects.

We will take for our model the ordinary hack. He is, perhaps, the most plentiful, and although even he possesses various degrees of form, his general shape is such as to call forth the oft rehearsed title of “a useful looking nag.” I propose to delineate him to the best of my ability in the act of standing, trotting, and leaping—and by following out the instructions in regard to the stag, the reader may accomplish the outline work of this and most other subjects in the animal line. The horse standing is intended to represent one in a field—turned out to grass, in fact—without halter or trappings of any kind. By simply placing the ears slightly forward it will convey the idea of “Expectancy,” or that his attention has been drawn to some distant object, such as his owner or driver coming through the gate.

The horse trotting I have done by completing the head first to the back of the ears, the line has then been drawn down the back of the neck, over the withers, along the back, over the rump, and down to the “near” or left fetlock joint. The paper cornet is then taken to the base of the jawbone, the throat, or front part of the neck is put in, and the line carried along the extended left foreleg to the point of the hoof. By looking at this it will be found that the top line of the horse is complete, and you will see pretty clearly at this stage if the back is likely to be too long or too short. If satisfactory, the left foreleg may be completed, and the line carried under the stomach with a slight curve upwards, as it nears the flank, and then the under line of the extended left hind leg, including the hoof. We have now what appears to be the extended half of a horse with but two legs—and can see plainly enough if it is going to be a failure when complete by the proportion of all the parts delineated; if apparently satisfactory, we put in the “off” or right legs, slightly doubled up under the stomach as shown, the tail can then be added and the eye. I have gone into these details because I have an idea that there are, perhaps, more critics on the points of a horse and his action than on any other animal living. Every Englishman seems to be a judge, more or less, and great are the arguments, friendly or otherwise, even among experts in horseflesh, although they would not bestow a glance or waste an opinion on the most perfect cow.

However, we are not experts, but only casual observers, and we will try and get our models as they are, if we can. It will be as well, however, to note that there does not seem to be so much argument about a trotting horse as one that is galloping, and photography itself seems to settle the arguments pretty clearly about the first-mentioned mode of propulsion, for, judging by the snapshots, I find the legs of the trotter are very often placed as the artist draws them, and as we are accustomed to see them in our daily walks. But it is not so with galloping; so rapid is the motion that we cannot follow the legs with our eye, so the artist has to draw a good deal from his stock of imagination, and the accuracy of that is very often greatly upset by the unerring snapshot, which “fixes” the striding racehorse in perhaps the hundredth part of a second. What do we see then? A horse with head almost erect, his hind legs extended, one of his forelegs extended, and the other in a vertical position with the hoof touching the ground looking, at the distance, as if he were poised on a broomstick, and three-parts of the weight being behind—looking like some equine experiment to defy the laws of gravitation. That this position was correct when the snapshot caught him is beyond doubt; but we need not copy it for all that, for he was but the fraction of a second in that position, and we can select others which will better answer our purpose. Moreover, if some great artist were to exhibit a painting of last year’s Derby winner passing the post in the position, say, at this year’s Royal Academy Exhibition, the least they would say of him would be that he was bordering on the “eccentric,” correct though he might be.

We will now proceed with the horse that is jumping. In adopting this position, I do not think we are trespassing on the impossible or the improbable, as our vision is capable of taking in the attitude of the jumper. Moreover, that lightning detective, the camera, “snaps” him in similar form; so that with such an ally at our side, we may venture to proceed.

The horse’s head may be piped in first, as in the preceding case; and, in doing the line for the back, great care should be observed to bring it nicely downwards, because our horse, this time, is rearing, so to speak, from the ground, and his great thigh muscles have propelled him upwards and forwards. We have to get the angle of his backbone according to the height he is supposed to be jumping, and, of course, his legs and stomach have to be treated accordingly. Having got the back line down to the root of the tail, carry it down to the hock, and thence to the point of the hoof—which is supposed to be about a foot from the ground. A line may then be made from under the jawbone down the chest, and the bent foreleg put in, the line taken under the stomach to the flank, and then the hind leg completed. Here we may see if any alteration is necessary, and, if not, the other two legs may be added, the tail, and the eye also. As an accessory to this, a rustic fence may be added, and even in the placing of this some discernment is required, for, if you get it too far forward, the horse will have the appearance of overreaching himself and doomed to come down on the top of it; on the other hand, if you get it too far back, it will have an impossible look, and give the animal the appearance of flying, instead of leaping. I think the best effect can be obtained by piping the first or foreground post of the fence somewhere under the hoof of the foreleg, and then, by a little management of perspective, take the rails under the stomach, just about where the saddle girth or the stirrups would be and just a medium distance below them. This detail may seem somewhat unimportant; but, simple though it seems, it is really surprising what a difference even the eighth of an inch will make in the placing of these posts and rails, and it is always best to do them after the horse is completed, as it is far easier to alter them, if necessary, than it is to alter him to suit the rails.

As we are now rapidly nearing the end of the outline stage of figure piping, it will be absolutely essential to touch on the “human form divine.” There are innumerable other outlines which might be practised; but I think the student—be he of average ability—might be almost left at this juncture to choose his own subjects. If still more elementary outline work is needed, and if he has thoroughly “grasped” the methods and can turn the specimens out to his own satisfaction, at the present stage, why a wide field is open to him for further progress, which needs no introduction. The human figure, though almost ever present for study, is, perhaps, more difficult than anything else in the way of piping—in fact, we might consider that we are bordering on the “classical” stage when we can manage the _genus homo_; but still there are various degrees we can touch upon before we arrive at the culminating point.

In piping a human being, it will generally be found that the face is the most difficult—especially in three-quarter or full-face; in profile, a fairly good expression can be obtained, and even that with the greatest possible care; but as our mission is now on outlines, we will leave that for a brief space, and study more in proportions. We will take for our subject a lady feeding pigeons, and, without ignoring the animal world altogether, what more appropriate than a dog of the St. Bernard kind looking on as an interesting spectator? A few fowls may also be introduced, and these will complete the subject. First of all pipe the outline forming the lady’s hat, and then the head; the back and front lines may then be gracefully brought down to ankles, and the lower part of the skirt completed. A lady friend of mine has told me that my feminine ideals are not quite up to date in regard to the fashions; this may be so, and I fully appreciate this little bit of friendly criticism, with a promise to study the fashion-plates a little more than I have hitherto done. Having got your back and front lines completed, the arms may heighten the effect. The pigeons and fowls can be piped in, and lastly the dog.