Bismarck weekly tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1943, 1893-01-20
JOLLY BACHELORS.
HOW YOUNG FELLOWS WHO DRAW
AND PAINT ENJOY LIFE.
Few Young Artists Are Married, but Near
ly All Want to Be-A Painters Good
Fortune Usually Begins at the Altar.
and It Is the Goal Desired.

ly All Want to Be-A Painters Good
Fortune Usually Begins at the Altar.
and It Is the Goal Desired.
Although common sense generally stands
appalled, at the artists threshold, a great
number of our younger and some of our
older painters manage to get along very
comfortably without it. There is an I'm.
written law in Bohemia that a man can do
anything honorable without losing his dig
nifty. During a snowstorm a young lady
driving down Fourteenth street in the fam
lily carriage was astonishcd to observe Il
young artist whom she had met some time
before at a fashionable dinner party carry
ing Il bucket of coal to his studio. A more
diplomatic person would have driven on
without pretending to notice the incident.
But this particular young woman was so
astonished at seeing the wit aud lion of Il
social gathering engaged in such a mental
occupation that she motioned her coachman
to stop, and alighting from her carriage de.
sired an explanation from her friend of his
extraordinary conduct. He was not at all
embarrassed. Setting his coal bucket down.
he said l%aughingly:
"Oh, that's nothing. My coal is out, and
they haven't sent me the ton | ordered.
have Il model up stairs, Hsid l couldn't ask
the poor thing to pose for Il Venus in a cold
room. So l went to the grocery and got a
bucketful, and here l am" Whereat he
lifted his hat, picked up his burden, and
disappeared up the stairs.
It must not be imagined that because
these young fellows live in their studios
and generally cook their own meals they
are to be s~ympathized with. No bachelor
in New York has more enjoyment out of
life than a painter. One of his first pur.
chases is a gas stove with it's various cook
ing apparatus. By the aid of this instru.
ment he can prepare meals as appetizing, if
not quite so elaborate, as those of the Hoff.
man House. Usually his meals are simple
"a breakfast of coffee, rolls, eggs, lamb
chops or liver and bacon, and Il light lunch
con of anything handy, eaten hurriedly in
order to save the precious hours of light.
When darkness falls the young painters
appetite asserts itself. He either goes to an
Italian or, as his finances may be, to a fash.
ionable restaurant and dawdles for two
hours over Il table d'hote, or else goes to his
cupboard and finds enough material for an
elaborate dinner of three or four courses.
Usually he has company. Dinners in Il
studio building are like progressive euchre
parties-the artists go from table to table.
one night gathering in Jones' room, another
in Browns, Il third in Robinson's.
Nader Lake, the genre painter, now rich
and famous, gave Il dinner one Sunday ten
years ago to half a dozen young fellows
poets, painters, musicians, literary engi-
neers and the like. 1t was a bitter cold
day and a bowling snowstorm prevailed.
"Say, fellows" remarked Fixatif, in
whose studio they had been smokingall the
afternoon, Pm hungry, and I'll be blest if
! have anything in the lartler except crack
ers and cheese. Let's dine with Lake"
Without apology Lakes studio was in
vaded and the proposal made to him. He
was quite willing, but all the supplies he
had were Il poun! Of porterhouse steak.
some mutton chops and a lot Of vegetables.
1.-THE very thing" cried John Moran.
Fellows. you have never eaten one of my
haricots. Well, you shall today. Have you
any wine, Lake,"
Two dozen %claret." said the host.
sit down, then, with Il bottle, every
mothers son Of you," said John Moran.
land watch me make a haricot."
Whereupon he took off his coat, tied u
piece of Lakes silken drapery around him,
and after an hours preliminary work had
the ingredients cooking slowly over IL CRATE
fire. The poet lighted a cigar, and turning
to the company remarked ~benignantly:
"Voici! Within half an hour you shall.
taste a repast fit for the Olympian gods!'
Then ensued an extraordinary thing. Me.
CLIPS, the dog painter, happened to state
that for his part he always had Il very poor
opinion of %Swinburue. That set Moran of.
He had been silently engrossed over the pot
for II long time. but now he was ready for
an argument. Megilp's unfortunate re-
mark gave him the clew, and Moran seized
it at once. He had just sold a poem to The
Century and spoke with authority and IL
faint but musical brogue. He was a good
talker and everybody listened approvingly.
Suddenly there arose what seemed to be /,
simultaneous wall of horror from the com
pany. THE haricot is scorching!" So i,
was. Moran dropped his %eloquence and
grabbed hold of the cooking pot. But the
vegetables and meat alike were burnt.
nauseous in odor and equally disagreeablv
in taste. There was Il proposition to chuck
the poet into the SNOW, but it was not car
ried. Fixatif Went to his larder and brought
back all his crackers and cheese, and with
this scanty meal, washed down by copious
drafts of claret. the eXpectant diners had
to be satisfied.
Probably it is in the desire to get away
from such incidents us this that painters
always wan to get married. to eschew
sack and live cle,nly. There is II great deal
of wit and good humor in Il bachelors
studio. 1t is the scene OF romance and sen
timent and gayety. 1t presents Rembrandt
eSquec contrasts OF light and shadow and il
in many particulars such Il method of DO
hemia that is delineated by the novel writ.
ers. But the bachelor artist knows that his
life, though generally jolly and free from
care, is also in the main free from comfort
and lacking in the element of sustained
effort that is essential to the achievements
of ambition. 1t occasionally happens that
bachelor painters make II reputation and
remain single and prosperous. But usually
the artists good fortune begins at the altar.
and in the great majority of cases he is de
sirous to get there as soon as possible New
York Sun.
Not Obliged to Believe Everything.