Daily inter mountain. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1881-1901, 1901-01-22

s The Marine Artists St0rY*
6 BY Helen n. Gardner. e
BY Helen n. Gardner.


Author of pray. Whose Son, My
Lord" etc.
Copyright, 1900. by Daily Story Pub Coz
was a young man at the time and
had my name to make, although I had
already begun to sell few of my marine
paintings and to feel the flush of pride
and hope and security that comes with
ones first successes.
L had come to New York with more
confidence than discretion. and l was
living as a young fellow t,ili when first
he leaves home to try his wings. on all
OF the unwholesome and indigestable
things that I CHANGED to fancy in board
ing houses restaurant or studio. Welsh
ralcbits and ham chased fried oysters
down my throat, and pancakes and pie
were never too rich or heavy to find
welcome by my appetite. l drank mod
erately. except that I deluged my food
as l swallowed it with iced water and
coffee, but ! had neither the money nor
the inclination to drink much wine or
liquor. l was really working pretty hard,
too. and so had very little outdoor life
during the sunny hours that had been
So much to me at home, for much of my
marine painting had to be done in my
studio and only occasional days of real
outing gave me the basis to work upon
for long weeks to follow. ! stayed up late
at night to ''see life" since must spend
those precious hours of daylight with
my paint and easel.
Well. by and by the devil of insom-
MIA began to visit me and l also be-
gan "to see things" Sometimes they
were only little, tally, black. intangibles,
wavy creatures. that got between mo
and the work on my canvas. Then
sometimes they We're rather more OBJ
Vious as to size but less descrbabe as
to forn-but they were there and they
SPOILED the CLINT of my sun on the wa
tor and fiecked my skies with impossible
shapes. Then l began to have palpi-
tationS, and grew to recognize that
nerves were not always and solely the
possession of weak women and aged
men. I began to get pretty down heart
ed and my work was no longer pleas
ure. 1t dragged. and at last l hardly
worked at all Then I went to doctor
whom Ihad heard highly spoken of. He
was young and I had met him, socially,
several times at the home of "a certain
young lady whom we both admired. I
presented my case to him. He looked
to my heart. asked me good many
questions, felt my pulse and-told me
that 1 was able to drop dead any min
ute.
Iremembermyse nsations just as we'll
as if it were yesterday The shock came
very near verifying his prophecy on the
spot. l looked at him, tried to speak,
saw Miss Julia float around a few times
and die away into a faint gray mist in
the corner of the room, gasped, and sank
into a chair which he hastily pushed
under me as he eased me down. Then
he threw open the window and began to
tlv to undo the results of his words. He
modlhed the prophecy enough to say
that it ate very carefully and very lit
tie. and only the things which he pre-
scrlbed, If l would sleep from eight to
ten hours every twenty-four. if I would
and otherwise adopt a severe regimen,
he thought l might be pulled along for
q good many years.
Well. the upshot of it was that not
even the drugs he gave me could get the
dread of the thing out of my mind, SO
that I could sleep. I would lie. night
after night, listening to my heart beats.
felt my own pulse with the invariable
result that it was exceedingly irregu-
lar-just so long as my mind was on it
thought so much about my food and
myself and my digestion. that nothing
ate gave me either satisfaction OF
seemed to agree with me afterward.
BY the time summer came I was a
good deal of a wreck and pretty weak
and discouraged. I went with some
friends to the country, where my faith.