Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1910-05-28


resentation of lemon tree. I heard
him say in one of his talks: II sup
pose many of you students in this day
of impression look upon this elaborate
drawing as waste Of time. l, on the
contrary, think it time we'll spent, TO,
when finished felt sure knew some
thing, may say, all, about lemon
tree, which has proved a lifelong value
to me in my finished pictures"
I recall this talk Of Sir Frederick
Leightons to encourage the numerous
young artists whose work I see from
time to time, enforcing care
full conscientious drawing from ma
ture to acquire skill in rendering; ap
probation of good form and color, and
to gather material for design. To com
pare small things with great, this care.
full study when I was boy, brought
knowledge and love of the oak tree
that have never deserted me.
Up to the moment I relate I had
been quite free from molestation; my
chosen subject was so far from the
public road that I felt quite safe;
moreover, only the head and the top
Of my easel were visible from the
highway. The whole glade was filled
with an under forest of tall bracken
(the giant form pleris aquilina).
Lying down on ones face in the min
iature forest was sensation. It was
full of little sunny glades between
the stems of the sturdy ferns, popu-
lated by all the little people of the
ground-mice, beetles, ants and other
small things. It was popular belief
among the boys that in one Of those
thousands of bracken stems you
would find your name; if you cut
them diagonally near the ground you
would see black marking very like
signature, or at any rate mono
gram. The singular part of it Is that
no two of them are alike, and some
times something near enough to an
initial will turn up for an magma
tive boy. .....a..
My only audience had been the
tame fallow deer of the park. They
had become so used to my presence
and fixedness that they evidently be-
gan to look upon me as a natural pro-
duct of the grove, and they grew
so bold in their inquisitiveness that
more than once I felt their breath
upon the back of my neck.
AS l said, up to this moment for
three whole afternoons all Of nature
had been my own. Many vehicles
passed along the distant drive; none,
however, came my way, and I re-
joiced in my security, but, like earth
quakes that come without warning,
my destiny was on the road A gor-
geous carriage and pair, with clank-
ing head chains, pulled up at the
nearest curve, and tall, handsome,
gentleman came wad
me cordially with merry laugh, and
said: Il could not resist the tempta-
ton Of seeing what the youthful art
list was up to-" I wanted to sink into
the ground, but his CHEEKY encourage
ment and praise made me feel more
at ease, until he beckoned lady to
follow him. They asked my name
and age. where I lived, an dwith a
waving, cordial goodby they were
away to their carriage. l don't know
that as boy I felt any particular
sensation from the little visit, but it
proved turning point in my life.
At the next sitting this great work
of art was finished, and when
reached home the first thing my
father said to me was: whom do
you know in town to send you pack
ages by the London Parcels Delivery
Co.? Here is something that arrived
five minutes ago." Imagine my de-
light on opening it to find real
grown-up artists colorbox, half
dozen silver-mounted brushes, and
under the brushes a card inscribed:
with the best wishes of George
Selwyn, Bishop of New
Zealand UP to that day my educa-
ton had all pointed toward the life
of merchant, but the bishop was my
destiny, though his living on the
other side of the globe prevented us
from meeting again in this world.
What he gave me was to him only
color box. To me it was heaven
sent sign, as symbol of sacred in
terest in my welfare. In my home
was only little chap who liked to
amuse myself with paints. After the
bishop laid his hands upon me felt
myself dedicated to the work Of
the beauties of the
world.
However, that is not quite the end
of the story. Three years ago while
sketching in England I was overtak-
en- by bad spell of weather: day aft
er day steady downpour; but FORTH
nately everything is packed away
closely in "the tight little island"
There half an hour in the train will
always bear you to something worth
seeing On this particular day. fifty
carried me to the quaint old
cathedral city of Litchfield. The an
Gent borough has now become a
place of pilgrimage for americans, al.
though it is a little out of the beaten
track After seeing everything OF
in the minister, as thought,
| breasted the rainstor mon my way
to the railroad and had gone some dis
lance from the cathedral when the
good old verger came running after
me- His black gown flying wildly in
the wind, he carried me back to show
me a great piece of work by Foley,
the celebrated English sculptor. Il
want you to see this the painting
verger said; you know we call him