Comprehension and Discussion Questions. 1. Where does this story take place?

1. Where does this story take place?

2. How old is Mr. Ellsworth?

3. Why is he under a doctor's care?

4. Is he an agreeable or disagreeable man?

5. What does Dr. Caswell want him to try?

6. Why does Dr. Caswell want Ellsworth to take up art?

7. Who is Frank Swain?

8. What does he do?

9. How is he paying for his schooling?

10. How much is he paid to teach Ellsworth how to draw?

PART II

When the art student came the following week there was a drawing on the table that had a slight resemblance to a vase. The wrinkles deepened at the corners of the old gen­tleman's eyes as he asked, "Well, what do you think of it?"

"Not bad, sir," answered Swain. "But it's not quite straight."

"Gosh," old Ellsworth smiled, "I see. The halves don't match." He added a few lines with a shaking hand and col­ored the open spaces blue like a child playing with a picture book. Then he looked towards the door. "Listen, young man," he whispered, "I want to ask you something before old pineapple juice comes back."

"Yes, sir," answered Swain politely.

"I was thinking — do you have the time to come twice a week or perhaps three times?" "Sure, Mr. Ellsworth."

"Good. Let's make it Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Four o'clock."

Koppel entered and was greatly surprised when his pa­tient took his pineapple juice without protest.

As the weeks went by Swain's visits grew more frequent. He brought the old man a box of water colors and some tubes of oils.

When Doctor Caswell called, Ellsworth would talk about the graceful lines of the chimney. He would mention some­thing about the rich variety of color in a bowl of fruit. He proudly showed the various stains of paint on his dressing gown. He would not allow his servant to send it to the cleaner's. He wanted to show the doctor how hard he'd been working.

The treatment was working perfectly. No more trips downtown to his office for the purpose of buying some busi­ness that was to fail later. No more crazy financial plans to try the strength of his tired old heart. Art was a complete cure for him.

The doctor thought it safe to allow Ellsworth to visit the Metropolitan Museum, the Museum of Modern Art, and other exhibitions with Swain. An entirely new world opened up its mysteries to him. The old man showed a tremendous curiosity in the art galleries and in the painters who exhibi­ted in them. How were the galleries run? Who selected the pictures for the exhibitions? An idea was forming in his brain.

When the late spring began to cover the fields and gar­dens with color Ellsworth painted a simply horrible picture which he called, "Trees Dressed in White." Then he made a surprising announcement. He was going to exhibit the pic­ture in the summer show at the Lathrop Gallery.

For the summer show at the Lathrop Gallery was the biggest art exhibition of the year — in quality, if not in size. The lifetime dream of every important artist in the United States was a prize from this exhibition. Among the paintings of this distinguished group of artists Ellsworth was now going to place his "Trees Dressed in White," which resem­bled a handful of salad dressing thrown violently against the side of a house.

"If the newspapers hear about this, everyone in town will be laughing at Mr. Ellsworth. We've got to stop him," said Koppel.

"No," warned the doctor. "We can't interfere with him now and take a chance of ruining all the good work which we have done."

To the complete surprise of all three — and especially Swain—"Trees Dressed in White" was accepted for the Lathrop show. Not only was Mr. Ellsworth crazy, thought Koppel, but the Lathrop Gallery was crazy, too.

Fortunately the painting was hung in an inconspicuous place where it did not draw any special notice or comment. Young Swain slipped into the museum one afternoon and blushed to the top of his ears when he saw "Trees Dressed in White," a loud, ugly picture on a wall otherwise covered with paintings of beauty and harmony. As two laughing stu­dents stopped before the strange picture Swain left hur­riedly. He could not bear to hear what they had to say.

During the course of the exhibition the old man kept on taking lessons, seldom mentioning his picture in the exhibi­tion. He was unusually cheerful. Every time Swain entered the room he found Ellsworth laughing to himself. Maybe Koppel was right. The old man was crazy. But it seemed equally strange that the Lathrop committee should encour­age his craziness by accepting his picture.

Two days before the close of the exhibition a special messenger brought a long official-looking envelope to Mr. Ells­worth while Swain, Koppel, and the doctor were in the room. "Read it to me," said the old man. "My eyes are tired from painting."

It gives the Lathrop Gallery great pleasure to announce that the First Prize of $1,000 has been awarded to Collis P. Ellsworth for his painting, "Trees Dressed in White."

Swain and Koppel were so surprised that they could not say a word. Doctor Caswell, exercising his professional self-control with a supreme effort, said: "Congratulations, Mr. Ellsworth. Fine, fine.... Of course, I didn't expect such great news. But, but — well, now, you'll have to admit that art is much more satisfying than business."

"Art has nothing to do with it," said the old man sharply. "I bought the Lathrop Gallery last month."