So Gibson turned from the doors which afterward opened to him so eagerly, and traveled on in search of appreciation and a market. He found both at the hands of John G. Shea, then of Frank Leslie’s house, who bought his drawings for “The Chimney Corner” and “The Boys’ and Girls’ Weekly.” “I began to pay my way,” said Gibson in a newspaper interview, “as soon as I met him. It was he who first suggested to me that I might furnish text with my drawings; and then I received double pay.” Soon after this he began to furnish botanical drawings for “The American Agriculturist.” His work was so acceptable that he was invited to take a desk in the offices of the publication, and he here became acquainted with J. C. Beard, Jr., with whom he had a life-long friendship. An opportunity occurring to furnish drawings for botanical articles in Appleton’s “Encyclopædia,” Gibson undertook the task; and when this led to a disagreement with the manager of the “Agriculturist,” he and Beard left the paper and took a room by themselves, in John Street. Here the orders began to come in, besides what they were doing for Leslie and Appleton, from various lithographers. The young men led a happy life, full of hard work, good fellowship, ambitious plans. Gibson was absorbed in his pursuits. He shrank from nothing because it was hard or because it was humble. He turned his pencil to whatever would afford him training and whatever would bring him honest returns. He was ready to do all sorts of “odds and ends” of illustration. He had great facility in producing puzzles of every description, especially those depending on illustration. One entire notebook is filled with suggestions for riddles, puzzles, rebuses, anagrams, which he worked out or had in reserve.
The days were full of hope and determination. He had no doubts about his ultimate success. He was a firm believer in himself. And he knew he had found the work he loved and into which he could throw his whole abounding life. It is a fine picture of a brave young fellow facing a difficult career with the buoyant hopes of youth and the confidence of a really strong nature. He was only nineteen when he wrote to the young girl to whom he had already given his heart: “This work perfectly fascinates me. It has always been my choice; it always will be. I shall never be happy if I have to abandon it. I look forward to it with delight and enthusiasm.... I do not allow myself to be too sanguine. I expect difficulties, trials, disappointments. I am willing to work, use all my energy, brave all manner of disappointments if in the end that future which we so often picture to one another can be realized.”
Another letter, a few months later, tells the story of hard work and increasing care, in apology for delay in writing to his mother. It also introduces the matter of one of his largest commissions up to this time, and shows how certainly he was making his way:
“Mother, I think of you just as much as ever, but I am so busy that when evening comes my natural dislike to letter writing is increased tenfold by fatigue. I wish I could give some correct idea of the amount of work that I do, and of how continually I am occupied. I am dreadfully busy, and last week and week before I worked at the office evening after evening until nearly eight, very seldom leaving before seven. You may perhaps form some idea when I tell you that I have got work on hand now (all in a hurry, as fast as I can do it) amounting to over $1,000.00 (one thousand dollars). It is all from Appleton & Co. and $840.00 of it is in one commission. It consists of twelve drawings on stone, each stone measuring nearly four feet by three, and weighing about four hundred pounds. I agreed to do the drawings on each stone for $70.00 which amounts as above. I have commenced and finished one stone satisfactorily, and commenced another to-day. It takes five men to bring the stone to my office and it is the largest size that can be used on a power press. A ‘tremendous job’ people call it, and don’t see ‘how on earth I manage to get at all these things.’ I believe I told you something about it. You remember that I heard of the intention of the Appletons to publish some mammoth botanical charts, and as it was rather in my line I went and saw Mr. Appleton about it. He asked me if I could draw on stone. I told him ‘yes,’ as if I had done it all my life, and gave him my estimate. It was an estimate calculated to pay me well, and I felt sure by previous inquiry that it was as low as he could get it done elsewhere. It resulted as I expected and the entire job was turned over to me.”
The sequel to that story is given in one of his frank, confidential letters to his mother, meant only for her eye, and therefore full of such a self-expression as he would have made to no one else. It answers still further the question as to how he came to get this particular commission in a way which reveals again his boldness and faith in undertaking new and untried work:
“N. Y., Jan. 22, 1872.
“My dear Mother:
“I have stopped short in my work for the purpose of writing a few lines to you, as more time has already elapsed since you last heard from me than I had expected to allow. Everything goes on as smoothly as I could desire; of course there are ripples occasionally but they only tend to make the intervening success and prosperity more serene by contrast.
“I still continue as busy as ever only more so. The stone work is the principal employment, at present, and I have given from the start immense satisfaction. You remember that in my last ‘long letter’ I spoke of commencing on the second stone the following day. Well I did so and finished on the next day after, not spending quite two days on it. That week I realized $170.00 for work which I did all myself. The Appletons were surprised more than I can tell you when I informed them of the completion of the second stone, and would scarcely believe that I had done it myself. When they came to see the proof they were even more pleased than they were with the first. The third stone was then sent to my office on the next Saturday afternoon. Monday morning following it had not a mark on it and before I left for home that very evening it was completely finished, thus making $70 in one day. On the next morning I went up to the Appletons’ and notified Mr. A. that his third stone for the charts was finished and in a playful way that I wished he would please send for it and let me have the next. ‘Why,’ said he, ‘I told them to take it to you last Saturday afternoon.’ ‘Well,’ said I, they did bring me one last Saturday afternoon and that is the one that I have finished and wish you to take away.’ I wish you could have seen the expression of mingled surprise and incredulity which covered his face. ‘Why,’ said he, ‘have you done it yourself?’ ‘Yes,’ I returned, ‘I commenced it and finished it yesterday.’ He received the intelligence rather with hesitation at first and finally as I had expected, took the course of questioning whether there was really $70.00 worth of work on them. He was very coy in his manner of doing it but I saw well enough through it all. He put such questions as these, ‘Well, you are doing them much quicker than you expected aren’t you? There is not quite so much work on them as you expected, is there? You thought at first that there would be a week’s time on each stone you remember?’ You see the style of query he used. To all these I admitted that they had become much more easy for me than I had expected, that I was hurrying them up because I knew that they were in a great hurry for the work. I reminded them that my estimate was the lowest that they could obtain in the city and said if I had the faculty of working fast that I ought to be remunerated for it, etc. ‘But,’ said he, ‘there is quite a wide difference between a week and a day and it seems that you did the last one in a day.’ ‘Well,’ said I, ‘so I did, but I will spend a week at them hereafter.’ This made him laugh heartily, and he drew me a check for $70.00 on the spot and told me that he was glad I was doing them so fast and that the firm were more than pleased, thinking my work far ahead of the original, etc. The fourth stone I finished this Monday having commenced it on Saturday last. It has been taken away this morning; the fifth one is now on my desk ready for me to proceed. It is a beautiful surface to draw upon, and I enjoy the work very much. I certainly have the faculty of drawing very fast. Several artists have seen my drawings on the stone and several lithographers also, and they all tell me frankly (after they have been really convinced that I have drawn one in a day or even two days) that there is not another man in the city that could do it and no one that could do it better. The most reasonable time which the Appletons could find elsewhere was a week and this amongst lithographers who had drawn upon stone all their lives. The printers of my lithographic work say that they never printed neater work in their lives and that my drawings all print very brightly.”
It was about these days that he made his first original work, a little composition now treasured and carefully preserved. He wrote about it to his mother: