Great Illustrations by N. C. Wyeth

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Overview


Before Andrew and Jamie, there was N. C. Wyeth. The star student of Howard Pyle's Brandywine School, Newell Convers Wyeth (1882–1945) created more than 3,000 illustrations in the course of his career. This original full-color collection focuses on his most popular illustrations, featuring early works that date from 1910-30. More than 100 iconic images include scenes from The Last of the Mohicans, The Mysterious Stranger, Robin Hood, Robinson Crusoe, Rip Van Winkle, The Boy's ...
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Overview


Before Andrew and Jamie, there was N. C. Wyeth. The star student of Howard Pyle's Brandywine School, Newell Convers Wyeth (1882–1945) created more than 3,000 illustrations in the course of his career. This original full-color collection focuses on his most popular illustrations, featuring early works that date from 1910-30. More than 100 iconic images include scenes from The Last of the Mohicans, The Mysterious Stranger, Robin Hood, Robinson Crusoe, Rip Van Winkle, The Boy's King Arthur, and other books.
Wyeth's fame and greatest commercial success derived from his work for Scribners' Illustrated Classics. Starting with the 1911 edition of Treasure Island, the artist provided images for more than 25 volumes in the series. Many of those illustrations appear here, in a treasury of stirring, dramatic visions that captured the imaginations of the storybook readers of a century ago and continue to speak to modern audiences.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780486472959
  • Publisher: Dover Publications
  • Publication date: 9/14/2011
  • Series: Dover Fine Art, History of Art Series
  • Pages: 128
  • Sales rank: 394,238
  • Product dimensions: 8.10 (w) x 10.90 (h) x 0.40 (d)

Meet the Author


A product of Howard Pyle's Brandywine School, Newell Convers Wyeth (1882-1945) ranked among the best known and most important American illustrators of his era. He created the images for more than 25 volumes of Scribner's Illustrated Classics.
Dover cover design artist Jeff A. Menges specializes in fantasy art and has edited books on the art of Arthur Rackham, Edmund Dulac, and Warwick Goble as well as an anthology of Victorian fairy paintings.
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Read an Excerpt

Great Illustrations


By N. C. Wyeth, Jeff A. Menges

Dover Publications, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Dover Publications, Inc.
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-486-15239-4



CHAPTER 1

For Better Illustration


BY N. C. WYETH

ORIGINALLY APPEARED IN SCRIBNER'S MAGAZINE, NOVEMBER 1919


While researching the broad scope of illustration work presented in this volume, this article surfaced among the imagery. Being written by N.C. Wyeth himself, on the subject at hand, it seemed more than fitting to include his voice on the topic.


MOST of us will agree, I presume, that American illustration, considering the remarkable opportunities that have been offered by the publishers, in the past twenty years, is not up to the standard of excellence which we have every right to expect, and the quality of production does not seem to grow more important as the time passes. Here and there we find admirable pictures no doubt, but considering the mass of drawings that are being made, the number of good works is almost negligible; and even the best too often lacks potentiality, that promise of growth into the broader field of painting and mural decoration which is the logical sequence to illustration.

Let us glance at present methods and circumstances which I think are interfering with the production of substantial illustrators, and then propose a few corrective suggestions which I believe to be fundamental.

The popular blame for the failure of the modern illustrator is, of course, laid upon the tremendous and enveloping spirit of commercialism, and unquestionably this does play a large part in his undoing. However, commercialism is a condition, and it must be met. But I feel by stopping here that we are missing the real issue and are not striking at the source of our failures.

There is a very depressing belief in artistic circles, particularly amongst the painters themselves, that illustration is not an art but a craft, that it is not conceived from inspirational sources, but is built and fashioned as a stage-setting would be around the theme of a story, or planned like an ingenious design. Now it happens that the painter's opinion in this matter has far-reaching and distressing results for the illustrator, as it is he who stands at the advisory head of our art training-schools and, consciously or unconsciously, establishes the standards, and shapes the policies and methods therein.

To my very definite knowledge, the painter's opinion of the illustrator's profession as compared to his own, is often very near that of contempt, and if it amounted only to this I would have nothing to say; but his influence in the art academies is really the fundamental cause of a very serious neglect in the courses of training meted out to the illustrators, and this in spite of the fact that the illustrating classes have become a popular and paying branch of these institutions.

It has been my experience in the past few years to discuss the plans and prospects of a considerable number of art students aspiring to illustration. Many of them have come to me fresh from the art schools with the ostensible purpose of carrying on their study to more practical ends. From these contacts I have learned from the truest source possible just what the illustrator is getting from the academies.

We all realize that the period of adolescence in the life of the young artist or poet, when he is awakening into dreams of artistic achievement, while he is enjoying the subtle but none the less definite thrills of an inner urge to express himself, is the most wonderful, the most illusive, and the most susceptible period of his life. Now, unless this young spirit is blest with understanding parents who recognize, and are willing to cherish and foster this tender dawning of a new vision with the right supplementary training in the home, there remains no other provision for the proper development of his talent but to send him to an art school. So, invariably he is taken from the discipline and the mildly philosophical influences of the public schools, and is thrust into a school where there is still less of these things.

His first experience is to be seated before a cast, and with a few elementary remarks on drawing from the instructor, his work is started for the term. Now, outside of the weekly or semiweekly returns of the instructor the boy is allowed almost complete freedom to work or not, according to his moods, with no steadying influences of an intellectual nature, no one to remind him that art and life are incorporate, that to grow in artistic power he must grow in character. On the contrary, the philosophic ideas which he picks up are gleaned from the other students, older students, indiscreet students, the product of their loose surroundings. He is plunged almost immediately into a whirlpool of shapeless, radical ideas (so abundant amongst art students). It is not long before he has lost complete sight of his early, inherent vision, and has accepted in its place the novel, more exciting schemes upon which to shape his destiny. This is so often the beginning of the end. Only rarely does a fortunate student happen upon a helpful mind, one sufficiently strong and sympathetic to help him back into the real light. Back in the golden days of art an air of great seriousness, of religious fervor, surrounded the training of the artist; the profession was closely linked with the church, and to a very great extent supported by it, so when one entered the field, it was done with becoming reverence and humility which preserved a most fertile condition of mind for spiritual as well as technical growth. But to-day we have not the church, nor have we supplied any substitute to invest the profession with these inspirational qualities.

Now to speak more specifically of the prevailing system of teaching. The great majority of the art schools mark a distinct division between the painting classes and the illustrating classes. This is a grave mistake. The training course for the illustrator should not be one whit different or less thorough, than that for the painter. But it is a fact that the course of study required of the illustrator is depressingly brief. He is fairly galloped through the antique, takes a "swipe" at still-life painting, and bounces in and out of the life class. And heaped upon this slovenly drilling are the highly distracting interests of composition. Apply this system of training to the young musician, allow him to compose before he knows the five-finger exercises. The cases are precisely parallel.

Why the fallacy of precipitating a young, undeveloped mind into the advanced courses of an illustrating class before he has had a chance to occupy his senses sufficiently with the truth, and nothing but the truth, to acquire a thorough working knowledge of nature in her simplest forms, before attempting to present her in the impressionistic dressings of his emotions, is more than I can comprehend. To destroy individuality, seems to be the main function of the illustrating classroom to-day.

To turn the embryo mind face to face with technical methods, style, and the restrictions of publishing processes which all figure so prominently in composition, before he is able to feel that divine urge which comes only from a sound initiation into nature's truths is, to my mind, the principal reason why such a tragic percentage of art students fail.

I know from experience what it means to answer that premature call for pictures. The second week I spent in an art school I was requested to do this as a part of the routine, and how I suffered for that entire year. I noted that cleverness was rewarded; stunty and affected methods got the applause; so naturally I concluded that my salvation in art lay in my ability to develop a new stunt. And how many hundreds of promising young men are making this same mistake in our art schools to-day! To be sure, the crafty ingenuity of a few survives to reach a popular level—they enjoy a vogue, but invariably such ability grows weaker as time goes by, and finally passes out altogether. There is no substance, no body to such work, it is a mere shell, and being solely dependent on superficial effect the light of inspiration soon burns out.

I will admit the commercial value of such craftsmanship, but it does not figure at all in the building up of important illustration, and that is what I am writing about.

Now this brings me to that dire need of philosophic influence in the art schools, a phase of study which should be made as important a part of the curriculum as drawing or painting.

One has but to talk with any of the majority of students to soon learn that they consider art something that they do rather than something they live. They are essentially dilettantes.

It seems to me that the first responsibility to be taught the young artist, along with sturdy technical study is this, that he must sense deeply of the fact and substance of the object he is drawing; he must learn to love that object for its own sake, not because it is picturesque, or odd, or striking, but simply because it is an object of form and substance revealed to him by the wonder of light that represents a phase of the great cosmic order of things.

My grandfather, who was associated with Louis Agassiz for many years, used to tell me that this was the very keystone to his power of teaching. He invested natural science with such a profound spirit of romance, and his thrilling appreciation of cosmic relationship was so strong, that he awakened the youngest of his listeners to the most enthusiastic appreciation of science. To the master this power to sense reality is an instinctive trait, of course, but how can this feeling ever live in a man who has never established stirring relations with the realities in the first place? The fact is the student is inclined and encouraged to look upon the phenomena of life as merely fit or unfit material with which to construct clever pictures. The result: they never reach the point where the creation of a picture becomes a constitutional necessity, but rather amounts to a mere intellectual attainment—the one vital, the other ephemeral. To unfold to the young mind the glory of all facts of existence should be the fundamental function of the art school, but in just this they are utterly deficient.

The view-point I have expressed, once established, the young artist will naturally become more interested in the common objects around him, and this is apt to save him that futile chase for ultra-picturesqueness in the shape of Dutch windmills, or South Sea Island cannibals, but instead he will derive his inspiration from the happenings in his own life, the virility of it passing without waste into his work. It was Thoreau who believed (and came as near to fulfilling his belief as any one ever did) that the action of doing a thing, and the writing about it should be so close that they amount to one and the same thing. And so with the picture-maker. But isn't it obviously clear how the very training we get in the art schools, and colleges too, tends to separate us from life, teaches us to work too much with our brains and too little with our hearts? Romain Rolland in "Jean Christophe" says: "Write the simple life of one of these simple men, write the peaceful epic of the days and nights following one like to another, and yet all different, all sons of the same mother, from the dawning of the first day in the life of the world.

Write it simply, as simple as its own unfolding. Waste no thought upon the word and the letter, and the subtle vain researches in which the force of the artists of to-day is turned to naught. You are addressing all men; use the language of all men. There are no words noble or vulgar; there is no style chaste or impure; there are only words and styles which say or do not say exactly what they have to say. Be sound and thorough in all you do; think just what you think, and feel just what you feel. Let the rhythm of your heart prevail in your writings; the style is the soul."

We cannot, in art, produce a fraction more than what we are. The strange and popularly accepted belief that great artists were invariably wayward, and are excused for it on the grounds of special privileges, is as false as it is impossible. No great artist ever thrived on such principles. If stories have been handed down to us of moral lapses in the lives of the masters, their work survives in spite of the mistakes, and not on account of them. No art justifies anything but honest, straightforward living. The moral superiority of Beethoven, the greatest of them all, comes to my mind while I write this.

Do we hear any of this in the art schools? Decidedly no.

To teach the young illustrator that his salvation lies within himself, that to be able to draw virile pictures means that he must live virilely; upon such stuff should the system of the art schools be built. And without it we cannot expect him to be of any permanent benefit to the upbuilding of American illustration.


N.C.W.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Great Illustrations by N. C. Wyeth, Jeff A. Menges. Copyright © 2011 Dover Publications, Inc.. Excerpted by permission of Dover Publications, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

ii. Frontispiece "Stand and Deliver!" Life Magazine cover, September 1921

iii. Title page: Vignette from Westward Ho!, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1920

v. Chapter head from The Courtship of Miles Standish, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1920

vi. Linework from Rip Van Winkle, David McKay Company, Philadelphia, 1921

vii. Linework from Rip Van Winkle, David McKay Company, Philadelphia, 1921

ix. Endpaper illustration from The White Company, 1922

x. Advertisement, The Willys-Overland Company, 1915

 

Plates

1. Above the sea of round, shiny backs the thin loops swirled. "A Day with the Round-Up," Scribner's Magazine, March 1906

2. a. Out on the gravel walk they came to a standstill. Harper's Monthly Magazine, January 1906

b. "We joined the second expedition." "Arizona Nights," McClure's Magazine, March 1906

c. "There is one thing better than money—and that is a human home." Harper's Monthly Magazine, August 1905

d. He heard her sob her way up-stairs. Harper's Monthly Magazine, August 1905

3. An almighty exciting race. "Arizona Nights," McClure's Magazine, March 1906

4. a. The Last Stand. McClure's Magazine, September 1906

b. As the cover actually appeared.

c. The Prospector. McClure's Magazine, September 1906

d. The cattle killers were the original cowboys of America. The Outing Magazine, August 1906

5. The Hunter. The Outing Magazine, cover, June 1907

6. Following the trail itself, Whispering Smith rode slowly. Whispering Smith, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1906

7. "And whom may I say the message is from?" Whispering Smith, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1906

8. These three carried rifles slung across their pommels, and in front of them rode the stranger. Whispering Smith, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1906

9. Wheeling at arm's length, shot again. Whispering Smith, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1906

10. From an upper snow platform to which the hard blocks were thrown, a second man heaved them over the bank. "How They Opened the Snow Road," The Outing Magazine, January 1907

11. Long Henry drove cautiously across the scene of yesterday's accident and up the approach to the rocky point. "How They Opened the Snow Road," The Outing Magazine, January 1907

12. "I take it I am the One Wanted," Said Williston. Langford of the Three Bars, A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago, 1907

13. The Glowing Iron Stick in His Hand, Jesse Turned and Faced Squarely the Spot which Held the watching Man. Langford of the Three Bars, A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago, 1907

14. The Little Posse Started Out on its Journey, the Wiry Marshall First. Langford of the Three Bars, A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago, 1907

15. On the October Trail (A Navajo Family). Scribner's Magazine, October 1907

16. "I've sold them Wheelers!" "The Misadventures of Cassidy," McClure's Magazine, May 1908

17. "I hereby pronounce you man and wife!" "The Misadventures of Cassidy," McClure's Magazine, May 1908

18. Nearest to the rough pine box stood the widow, with lowered eyes. "The Misadventures of Cassidy," McClure's Magazine, May 1908

19. The Ore Wagon. "The Misadventures of Cassidy," McClure's Magazine, May 1908

20. The Bronco Buster, Cream of Wheat ad. 1909

21. Cover, The Popular Magazine, November 1909

22. Stonewall Jackson. The Long Roll, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1911

23. The Lovers. The Long Roll, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1911

24. The Battle. The Long Roll, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1911

25. The Vedette. The Long Roll, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1911

26. The Poacher, cover, The Popular Magazine, March 1911

27. All day he hung round the cove, or upon the cliffs, with a brass telescope. Treasure Island, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1911

28. Tapping up and down the road in a frenzy, and groping and calling for his comrades. Treasure Island, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1911

29. To me he was unweariedly kind; and always glad to see me in the galley. Treasure Island, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1911

30. "One more step, Mr. Hands, " said I, "and I'll blow your brains out." Treasure Island, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1911

31. About half way down the slop to the stockade, they were collected in a group. Treasure Island, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1911

32. For all the world, I was led like a dancing bear. Treasure Island, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1911

33. The Road to Vidalia. Cease Firing, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1912

34. Sharpshooters. Cease Firing, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1912

35. The Bloody Angle. Cease Firing, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1912

36. The Scout. Cease Firing, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1912

37. The Moose Hunter. A Moonlit Night. Scribner's Magazine, October 1912

38. He were n't no saint,—them engineers is all pretty much alike. The Pike County Ballads, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1912

39. "I ax yer parding, Mister Phinn—Jest drap that whisky-skin." The Pike County Ballads, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1912

40. Over hill and holler and ford and creek Jest like the hosses had wings, we tore. The Pike County Ballads, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1912

41. The Deacon and Parson Skeeters in the tail of a game of Draw. The Pike County Ballads, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1912

42. The Golden Maiden. The Sampo, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1912

43. He never caught a thing and he ruined John's reputation as a fisherman. War, The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Indianapolis, 1913

44. Then he looked in her face, playing softer and softer. War, The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Indianapolis, 1913

45. He stopped two or three steps up and sang me a little song—quite like the old Dave. War, The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Indianapolis, 1913

46. War. War, The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Indianapolis, 1913

47. The Torrent in the Valley of Glencoe. Kidnapped, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1913

48. At Queen's Ferry. Kidnapped, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1913

49. (Clinging to the Mast). Kidnapped, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1913

50. On the Island of Erraid. Kidnapped, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1913

51. At the cards in Clun's Cage. Kidnapped, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1913

52. The Parting. Kidnapped, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1913

53. The Popular Magazine, cover, September 1914

54. Eseldorf was a paradise for us boys. The Mysterious Stranger, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1916

55. The Astrologer. The Mysterious Stranger, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1916

56. (Pouring wine). The Mysterious Stranger, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1916

57. "They cannot better die than for their natural lord," said Dick. The Black Arrow, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1916

58. So the change was made, and they went forward as briskly as they durst on the unseen causeway. The Black Arrow, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1916

59. "We must be in the dungeons," Dick remarked. The Black Arrow, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1916

60. The Little cockle dipped into the swell and staggered under every gust of wind. The Black Arrow, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1916

61. And Lawless, keeping half a step in front of his companion and holding his head forward like a hunting dog upon the scent, . . . studied out their path. The Black Arrow, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1916

62. Robin Hood and his mother go to Nottingham Fair. Robin Hood, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1917

63. Robin wrestles Will Stuteley at Gamewell. Robin Hood, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1917

64. Robin Hood and his companions lend aid to Will O'th' Green from Ambush. Robin Hood, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1917

65. Little John Fights with the cook in the Sheriff's House. Robin Hood, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1917

66. So the child was delivered unto Merlin, and so he bare it forth. The Boy's King Arthur, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1917

67. And when they came to the sword that the hand held, King Arthur took it up. The Boy's King Arthur, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1917

68. "I am Sir Launclot du Lake, King Ban's son of Benwick, and knight of the Round Table. The Boy's King Arthur, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1917

69. "They fought with him on foot more than three hours, both before him and behind him." The Boy's King Arthur, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1917

70. Sir Mador's spear brake all to pieces, but the other's spear held. The Boy's King Arthur, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1917

71. He rode his way with the queen unto Joyous Gard. The Boy's King Arthur, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1917

72. Marooned. The Mysterious Island, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1918

73. The discovery of the chest. The Mysterious Island, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1918

74. Captain Harding slays a convict. The Mysterious Island, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1918

75. The last hope. The Mysterious Island, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1918

76. Cover plate, The Last of the Mohicans, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1919

77. Uncas slays a deer. The Last of the Mohicans, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1919

78. The Battle at Glenn's Falls. The Last of the Mohicans, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1919

79. Captives. The Last of the Mohicans, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1919

80. The Fight in the Forest. The Last of the Mohicans, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1919

81. The Supplicant. The Last of the Mohicans, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1919

82. The White Admiral. Ladies' Home Journal, 1919

83. —and making it into a great cross, I set it up on the shore where I first landed. Robinson Crusoe, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1920

84. I reaped it my way, for I cut nothing off but the ears, and carried it away in a great basket which I had made. Robinson Crusoe, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1920

85. I stood like one thunderstruck, or as if I had seen an apparition. Robinson Crusoe, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1920

86. At first, for some time I was not able to answer him one word; but as he had taken me in his arms, I held fast by him, or I should have fallen to the ground. Robinson Crusoe, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1920

87. John Oxenham. Westward Ho!, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1920

88. Rose of Torridge. Westward Ho!, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1920

89. Rose Salterne and the White Witch. Westward Ho!, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1920

90. Salvation Yeo finds his little maid again. Westward Ho!, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1920

91. So through the Plymouth Woods John Alden went on his errand. The Courtship of Miles Standish, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1920

92. Near them was standing an Indian, in attitude stern and defiant. The Courtship of Miles Standish, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1920

93. So the maid went on, and little divined or imagined what was at work in his heart, that made him so awkward and speechless. The Courtship of Miles Standish, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1920

94. Headlong he leaped on the boaster, and, snatching his knife from its scabbard. The Courtship of Miles Standish, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1920

95. So through the Plymouth woods passed onward the bridal procession. The Courtship of Miles Standish, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1920

96. Wallace and his children. The Scottish Chiefs, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1921

97. Wallace draws the King's sword. The Scottish Chiefs, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1921

98. Death of Edwin. The Scottish Chiefs, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1921

99. Wallace's Vision. The Scottish Chiefs, Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1921

100. Here they used to sit in the shade through a long lazy summer's day, talking listlessly over village gossip or telling endless sleepy stories about nothing. Rip Van Winkle, David McKay Company, Philadelphia, 1921

101. On nearer approach he was still more surprised at the singularity of the stranger's appearance. Rip Van Winkle, David McKay Company, Philadelphia, 1921

102. . . . though these folks were evidently amusing themselves, yet they maintained the gravest faces, the most mysterious silence . . . Rip Van Winkle, David McKay Company, Philadelphia, 1921

103. It was with some difficulty that he found the way to his own house, which he approached with silent awe, expecting every moment to hear the shrill voice of Dame Van Winkle. Rip Van Winkle, David McKay Company, Philadelphia, 1921

104. . . . and preferred making friends among the rising generation, with whom he grew into great favor. Rip Van Winkle, David McKay Company, Philadelphia, 1921

105. The wrestling match at the "Pied Merlin." The White Company, Cosmopolitan Book Corporation, New York, 1922

106. Sir Nigel sustains England's honor in the lists. The White Company, Cosmopolitan Book Corporation, New York, 1922

107. The White Company. The White Company, Cosmopolitan Book Corporation, New York, 1922

108. Alleyne's ride with a message for the prince. The White Company, Cosmopolitan Book Corporation, New York, 1922

109. A set of posters done for the Pennsylvania Railroad, Philadelphia, 1930.

Top left, Building the first White House.

Top right, Pittsburgh in the Beginning.

Bottom left, Ringing out Liberty.

Bottom right, In Old Kentucky.

Tailpiece

Tailpiece from The Pike County Ballads, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston and New York, 1912

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  • Posted August 15, 2014

    Highly Recommend

    Gorgeous reproductions. A must-have for any NC fan.

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