New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1920-03-28

luSs ana MIS- GlDSOU u 0lH ClO80
second in this regard. A little
Polish girl down the street needs
her attention and she must rush
away to help her. A crippled boy
needs food and clothing. She asks
her son to accompany her and to-
gether they go over to the poor
quarter and administer to their
needs.
And now, what about the man
himself? What sort Of man IL It
that has risen from 81 picture to
thousands Of dollars a picture, and
from tired climber Of staircases to
owner Of the very plant that once
could not use his efforts?
You can see him yourself II you
will close your eyes and imagine
yourself entering a wide, high room
walled in with great, faded hanging
tapestries, with broad skylight at
enc side, dusty in spots, and with
a wicker chair here, holding several
books, stool there, another arm
chair at another side and near the
center Of the room and beneath the
skylight an easel supporting a piece
of white cardboard 2x3 feet wide.
Step into the room, go nearer to the
easel, walk past it and there, sit
ting before it, pen in hand, big, fine,
open face aglow with the pink Of
health, you will see man who Just
naturally Clocks like somebody"
Mr.. Gibson uses q plain wicker
side armchair, in which he sits
while drawing those stunning bru-
nettes. No gilt tassels hanging from
it's arms, either. Just plain. Severe
ly plain. But the man! Not SO
plain. A mountainous fellow. Large
head with white hair, closely
cropped. His forehead is wide and
his features strong and impressive
like statue of bronze. His eyes
fill with little rays of sparkling
light, and he invites you to be
seated. He is smooth faced, and as
you look into his eyes you think this
man has the biggest, broadest, full
est face you ever have seen. And
when he smiles his whole face
wrinkles and his eyes grow narrow
and almost close, and you feel he
is laughing out Of his heart.
No Bohemian Traits 4
His collar is Of that old time pat
tern that would be known as a
Stand up" It opens widely at the
throat to make way for huge neck.
And there is a modest black or gray
tie beneath it. His clothing Is mod
est. No colors. If he should get up
and put on his hat and overcoat and
prepare to go to the street, you
might think you had made mistake
and called upon a minister or bank
president instead Of the great artist.
He is as free from red ties and i've
karat diamond rings as the one time.
small town artist was encountered
with them. He is a conservative
gentleman More than that, all that
can be said about his personal ap-
pearance is that he is large-vsry
large-very, very Target
But you have entered the room.
we shall say, on the day after it
has been announced that he has pur-
chased "Life." He knows, and really
doesn't have to tell you, that It 1.
the biggest step Of his life. You
know it before you go to see him.
And then comes your ordeal. Mod
est, he will not talk about his own
success. Fearless, he will not show
that he il thinking Of the great
undertaking he has shouldsred. In
dustrious, it is only too clear that he
wants to continue scratching On that
half-fnished picture with his flns
little pen. Courteous, you know he
is not going to tall, you 70 lssvs.
And there you ara. Look st him.
II he is afraid Of his adventure
it does not show In the dead steadi-
ness of his hand. If he doubts his
ability to win it does not show IN .
single tremor Of the clear gray sys.
If he thinks that he has "arriveds
at last and that his working daxs
are past, there's not solitary SIR
of evidence as he works away at
that picture. Nor will there ever be.
Charles psna Gibson haa just b.
gxa to week.