Spring is here, and although there is but little countryside left to poetize about, cuckoos and lady smocks all silver white, - nothing but bricks and mortar, yet I was sure it had arrived - house painters in overalls were flitting about like white butterflies, while I heard one whistling "The flowers that bloom in the spring, tra la."
He was painting the outside of a semi-detached villa, a bright "yaller," the ground work that would eventually be camouflaged into the semblance of ancient Jacobean oak In spite of that great purest in art, John Ruskin, fulminating against the process as a sham it still flourished vigorously. Perhaps it does so by virtue of being one pace removed from mud it hides the dirt and wears remarkably well. Like everything else the process of graining has changed, it is now mechanical, yet gives and excellent imitation. The old time grainers took great pride in the art and some were highly skilled. Each one's style was easily recognised and many were outstanding characters of whom a good deal could be written. On the other hand, on the recognised principle of nothing good or evil, but graining makes it so, many of the attempts both weird and wonderful, suggestive of disembodied yellow worms squirming in agony from out a background of thunder and lightning effects in strong light and shade.
However, as the immaculate Jasper - he of the wide trilby hat, the sharp cut swarthy complexion, with curled moustachios and pointed beard suggestive of the great artist, Sir Anthony Vandyke - would say, it's the half dozen different ways of over-graining that gives the true effect and makes it indistinguishable from the real wood. Watching a skilled grainer at work the process seemed simple enough and many a careful housewife was tempted to try her hand. By GWL