“One day he called upon two students. On the wall was the study of a child, most beautifully done by one of them. Whistler stood before it for a long time in deep admiration, and then, turning to the art student, said, ‘That is away beyond yourself.’ Truly it was, for I called again a few days afterwards, and the body attached to the beautiful head was not worthy the brush of a five-years-old child. And I wondered how such incongruous things could be.
“Whistler was very loyal to his ‘white lock;’ said it was an inheritance in the family for several generations. He wore a slouch hat; and I have watched him on several occasions, before the mirror, where he remained for a long time, arranging it on his curly hair for the best effect before starting for the Florian café.
“And this reminds me that he was in need sometimes of the wherewithal to procure his coffee. So he called on me for aid. It was amusing to me, for I had scarcely soldi to pay for my own, and so I often went without. However, I could well afford to pay for Whistler’s coffee, inasmuch as he was a fine linguist, and I called on him to assist me in the battle I had with the padrona on two occasions. The mercenary woman was completely nonplussed, for Whistler waxed eloquent in the Italian tongue. There was no mistake, he was in dead earnest, for his gesticulations and excited tones of voice assured it, and my case was won.
“Tintoretto was his ideal artist among the old masters, and he often spoke most highly of his productions, especially ‘The Crucifixion.’
“In the line of pastels he was original, doing them on ordinary wrapping-paper. They were simply beautiful. I saw them in a London gallery a few months later, and they were an inspiration; so much so that he has had since many imitators but no equals.
“On one occasion I had a demonstration. We set out together on a sketching tour of the town. We came suddenly upon a subject that was very rich in tone—a cooper-shop. I lost no time getting to work. I threw my sketching-block flat upon the pavement, and emptied the contents of my box of water-colors upon it to get the tone quickly. The paper being well saturated with water, made it an easy matter to bring forth light from out the deep tone with strips of blotting-paper. I was not aware of doing anything unusual until I heard a ‘Ha, ha, ha!’ which has been called Whistler’s Satanic laugh.
“‘What amuses you, Mr. Whistler? Why do you laugh? Are you making fun of my sketch?’
“‘Oh, no,’ said he, with assurance. ‘I am admiring the ingenious way in which you work.’
“This to me was high praise, for it came from one who rarely indulged in praise.”
Another, speaking of the same period, says:[13]