Recently we had read an amazing text called “Art for heart’s sake” written by R. Goldberg.

Reuben Goldberg is an American sculptor, cartoonist and writer, he was born in San Francisco.
After graduating from the University of California in 1904 he worked as a cartoonist for a number
of newspapers and magazines. He produced several series of cartoons all of which were highly
popular.
Among of his best works there is the text that we read.

The story begins with the scene where the male nurse Koppel asked the patient Collis P.Ellsworth
to take his pineapple juice, but he received an immediate negative answer. The man wouldn’t take
the juice no matter how hard Koppel tried.
When he heard the front door bell, he left the room and went straight to doctor Caswell who was
in the gall downstairs. The male nurse started complaining about the difficult patient, he couldn’t
do a thing with mr. Ellsworth. Dr. Caswell had done some constructive thinking because he
understood that it 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 the jerkwater railroad. All his purchases had to be liquidated at a great
sacrifice both to his health and his pocketbook.
The doctor made up his mind. He offered the patient a very interesting idea that could help. Dc.
Caswell suggested taking up art. The old man’s answer was obvious and vigorous. He denied the
proposition and grumbled like a child. However, finally, he agreed to fool around with chalk and
crayons.
It made Dr. Caswell happier than ever. He went to his friend Judson Livingston, head of the
Atlantic Art Institute, and explained the situation. Livingston had just one young man of 18 years
old. Frank Swain. He was a promising student and needed money. They agreed on five dollars a
week. It was a good deal for both sides.
So next afternoon the boy and the patient got acquainted with each other. Mr. Ellsworth looked at
the boy appraisingly. The young man was a little bit embarrassed but then he started teaching the
old man art. Mr. Ellsworth made some scrawls and connected them with a couple of crude lines.
Even though it could hardly be called a picture, the old man was satisfied with his work. It seemed
that he got interested in painting as the doctor supposed.
When the student came the following week there was a drawing on the table that had a slight
resemblance to the vase. Mr. Ellsworth looked at his teacher elfishly and asked his opinion about
the picture. He played tricks on the poor boy. But Frank gave no sign that the picture was
disgusting. He just mentioned that it was a little bit lopsided. The old man agreed adding some
lines on the painting, then they agreed that Frank would come three times a week to entertain the
old man.
As the weeks went by Swain’s visits grew more frequent. He brought the old man a box of water-
colours and some tubes of oils.
The treatment was working perfectly. Mister Ellsworth took up painting, he really liked talking
about art. There were no more trips downtown to become involved in purchases of enterprises of
doubtful solvency. The old man started visiting galleries with Frank Swain. An entirely new world
opened up its charming mysteries. He displayed an insatiable curiosity about the galleries and the
painters who exhibited them. Some idea was forming in hid brain.
One day drew a picture which he called “Trees Dressed in White” which resembled a gob of salad
dressing thrown violently up against the side of a house. He showed it to the doctor and his
teacher and made a startling announcement. He was going to exhibit it in the Summer show at the
Lathrop Gallery. Everyone was shocked by his decision because every mature artist dreamt of
having his pictures displayed there. But the doctor didn’t allow to talk the old man out of it
because they could spoil all the good work that they have done.
To utter astonishment of all three the picture was accepted. It was hung in an inconspicuous place
and still people could see it as it was a loud, raucous splash on the wall and they couldn’t help
laughing at it.
However, the old man kept on taking his lessons and was unusually cheerful . Two days before the
close of the exhibition a special messenger brought a long official envelope to Mr. Ellsworth while
Swain, Koppen and the doctor were in the room. The letter said that Mr. Ellsworth was awarded
the first prize. Swain and Koppel uttered a series of inarticulate gurgles. Doctor Caswell trying to
be calm, congratulated the patient and tried to convince him that art was more satisfying than
business.
The Old Man snapped and added that the art was nothing actually. He just managed to buy the
gallery a month ago.