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Koppel heard the front door bell and was glad to leave the room. He found Doctor Caswell in the hall downstairs. "I can't do a thing with him," he told the doctor. "He won't take his pineapple juice. He doesn't want me to read to him. He hates the radio. He doesn't like anythingl"

Doctor Caswell received the information with his usual professional calm. He had done some constructive thinking since his last visit. This was no ordinary case. The old gentleman was in pretty good shape for a man of seventy-six. But he had to be kept from buying things. He had suffered his last heart attack after his disastrous purchase of that jerkwater 2 railroad 3 out in Iowa.
The doctor drew up a chair and sat down close to the old man. "I've got a proposition for you," he said quietly.

Old Ellsworth looked suspiciously over his spectacles.

"How'd you like to take up art?"
"I don't mean seriously," said the doctor, relieved that disaster had been averted. "Just fool around with chalk and crayons. It'll be fun
"But, Caswell, how do I start playing with the chalk-that is, if I'm foolish enough to start?"
"I've thought of that, too. I can get a student from one of the art schools to come here once a week and show you."
Next afternoon young Swain was shown into the big living room.
Frank Swain was patient. He needed money.
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 andirons. He would dwell on the rich variety of color in a bowl of fruit.The treatment was working perfectly. No more trips downtown to become involved in purchases
The doctor thought it safe to allow Ellsworth to visit the Metropolitan,12 the Museum of Modern Art 13 and other exhibits with Swain. An entirely new world opened up its charming mysteries. The old man displayed an insatiable curiosity about the galleries and the painters who exhibited in them. How were the galleries run? Who selected the canvases for the exhibitions? An idea was forming in his brain.

When the late spring sun began to cloak the fields and gardens with color, Ellsworth executed a god-awful smudge which he called "Trees Dressed in White". Then he made a startling announcement. He was going to exhibit it in the Summer show at the Lathrop Gallery! Two days before the close of the exhibition a special messenger brought a long official-looking envelope to Mister Ellsworth while Swain and the doctor were in the room. "Read it to me," requested the old man.
"It gives the Lathrop Gallery pleasure to announce that the First Landscape Prize of $ 1,000 has been awarded to Collis P. Ellsworth for his painting, "Trees Dressed in White".
Swain and Koppel uttered a series of inarticulate gurgles. Doctor Caswell, exercising his professional self-control with a supreme effort, said: "Congratulations, Mister Ellsworth. Fine, fine ...See, see ...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's nothing," snapped the old man. "I bought the Lathrop Gallery last month."