"
"Yes, sir; I'll try to remember, sir," I said, wondering why I should
be asked this.
"Garden spot of the world," he added in a kind of ecstasy, to which I
made no response, for this was too preposterous. Nearing the place our
train passed an immense hoarding erected by the roadway, a score of
feet high, I should say, and at least a dozen times as long, upon
which was emblazoned in mammoth red letters on a black ground,
"_Keep Your Eye on Red Gap!_" At either end of this lettering was
painted a gigantic staring human eye. Regarding this monstrosity with
startled interest, I heard myself addressed by Belknap-Jackson:
"The sort of vulgarity I'm obliged to contend with," said he, with a
contemptuous gesture toward the hoarding. Indeed the thing lacked
refinement in its diction, while the painted eyes were not Art in any
true sense of the word. "The work of our precious Chamber of
Commerce," he added, "though I pleaded with them for days and days."
"It's a sort of thing would never do with us, sir," I said.
"It's what one has to expect from a commercialized bourgeoise," he
returned bitterly. "And even our association, 'The City Beautiful,' of
which I was president, helped to erect the thing. Of course I resigned
at once."
"Naturally, sir; the colours are atrocious.
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