Page:Cyclopedia of illustrations for public speakers, containing facts, incidents, stories, experiences, anecdotes, selections, etc., for illustrative purposes, with cross-references; (IA cyclopediaofillu00scotrich).pdf/201



when he was serving on the old Penobscot, the height of the vessel between decks being only 5 feet and 8 inches. As Surgeon Ver Mulen considered the matter, he remembered that long letters to the Navy Department were not always given that prompt attention he thought should be afforded in the present instance, so he determined to approach the authorities in a manner novel enough to impress them with the gravity of the situation. So he addrest his superior officer in this wise:

"The Honorable the Secretary of the Navy.

"Sir: Length of surgeon, 6 feet 4 inches; height of wardroom, 5 feet 8 inches.

"Respectfully, ", "Assistant Surgeon, U.S.N."

Shortly after, the Navy Department detached Ver Mulen "until such time as a more suitable ship could be found for his assignment."

(798)

Artists have a good many queer customers, and they have advantages for observing what vague ideas it is possible for a man to entertain respecting art and nature, too. An ex-soldier went to the studio of D. J. Gue, of Brooklyn, one day, to inspect a picture of Lookout Mountain that the artist had been painting. The picture pleased him, and he evidently had thoughts of purchase, but he was suddenly struck with a brilliant idea that he communicated thus: "I was in that fight, mister, and I'd like you to paint my picture on that. Let's see. You could paint me right here in this field, facing front, with my left hand resting on top of the mountain." The man was in thorough earnest. He did not see that if drawn to scale his finger would be about 5,000 feet high, and that he would have a reach of arm that would enable him to grasp at an object six or seven miles away. Mr. Gue precipitately declined the commission.—Brooklyn Eagle.

(799)

DISPROPORTION OF PRAISE

The case of De Quincey in regard to opium-eating, is analogous to the case of a painter who has no hands, and had learned to paint with his toes. Many estimable artists might paint as well with their hands; but it is natural that the man who paints with his toes should be much more talked of, and attract a quite disproportionate share of fame. The wonder is, to quote Dr. Johnson's phrase, not that the thing is done well, but that it is done at all.—, "The Makers of English Prose."

(800)

Dissipation of Force—See.

DISTANCE

As I came into your city to-night I saw your great structure [Brooklyn Bridge] across the river here, binding the two great cities together and making them one, and I remember that as I came the last time into your beautiful bay down yonder, I saw what seemed to be a mere web of gossamer, a bare hand's breadth along the horizon. It seemed as if I might have swept it away with my hand if I could have reached it, so airy and light it was in the distance, but when I came close to it to-night I found that it was one of the greatest structures that human intellect has ever devised. I saw it thrilling and vibrating with every energy of our pulsating, modern life. At a distance it looked as if the vessels nearest would strike it, full head, and carry it away. When I reached it I saw that it was so high, so vast, that the traffic of your great stream passed easily backward and forward under it. So it is with some problems. They may appear very small to you, ladies and gentlemen, or to us, when seen at a distance—as tho merely a handsweep would get rid of them; but nearer at hand they appear too vast to be moved easily.—

(801)

See ;.

Distance and Nearness—See.

Distinctions, Vain—See.

Distinctions, Unfair—See.

Disturbance—See.

DISUSE

Moored off the famous White Tower of Salonica lay, year after year, a small, dirty, uncared-for, antiquated gunboat, the solitary representative of the Turkish Navy. It never moved. But when Turkey awoke the gunboat was ordered to Constantinople to join in the rejoicings. Steam was got up and preparations were made to raise the anchor, but in vain. It had become wedded