“Leaf. Impression with soot at hotels everywhere; intricate details in a few seconds.”

“Seeds from spider-webs and bird’s-nests.”

Let indolence meditate this matter.

Not even the working hours seem to have been sufficient for him. He also trenched upon the term sacred to sleep, and in one instance, at least, did his planning in his dreams. For a time before the publication of the “Sharp Eyes” articles was begun in Harper’s “Young Folks,” Gibson was casting about for some new idea for a book, some hint or inspiration or theme which should serve to focalize his thoughts and materials. One morning he said to his wife: “I dreamed out a whole book last night. I never had such a vivid dream. The whole scheme came to me, and I know just what I will do. I am going over to Harpers’ to talk it over with them.” This he immediately did, offering them fifty-two articles, to serve as a sort of naturalist’s almanac. The contract was agreed upon and he began work immediately. He often thereafter referred to his “lucky dream.” It was, perhaps, the most popular of his books, and, whatever its origin, was certainly in itself a very wide-awake volume.

His note-books are witnesses of the same character and tenor. They show, of course, his thorough study of every project on which his mind was engaged. They show also how his brain teemed with new projects and outlined new schemes, before he was done with old ones. His purposes were always far outrunning his capacity to perform. Yet if ever a man could do two or three things at a time, he was the one. At least his motto might well have been that remorseless pledge to continual industry, “Nulla dies sine linea.” One of his note-books dates from April, 1877, and runs to June 12, 1896, a month before he died, covering thus a period of nineteen years. In it is a record of every day’s work in all that time; and if there was not a line drawn every day, on some days he drew enough to fully make good the deficit and fulfil the very letter of the proverb. Sometimes the entries record every item of his work, like the following, taken at random:

“March29.Boston on business.”
“April9.Cover design for ‘Sharp Eyes.’”
“““Art Artisans’ Institute.”
““13.All day on proof of ‘Sharp Eyes’”
““14.“““““““
““15.New York ½ day, ½ on ‘Sharp Eyes.’”
“April16.½ day on proof, ‘Sharp Eyes’”
“““Art Artisans’ 2 hours, 3 hours in evening on proofs.”
“April17.Whole day on proofs.”
““18.½ day on proof.”
““20.Initial, design, ‘Shakespeare’s Country’”
“April20.Initial, design, illustration of apple-blossom.”
“April20.Design for ‘Sharp Eyes,’ ‘Bees’”

So the pages run, by scores and by hundreds. But elsewhere he condenses the story of a season’s continuous work into a few lines. After the date May 18, 1887, he wrote:

“Left for Hilltop—

“A very busy summer. Made many drawings for two prospective articles on ‘Midnight Rambles,’ and ‘Insect Botanists,’ beside many flower studies, and a number of water-colors. Very busy on the memorial volume of Mr. Gunn. Made a large number of drawings for Botany.”

Then follow pages of entries recording the sketches, designs, water-colors, illustrations, which in part constituted the details of that “busy summer.” The following year he made a similar condensation of a European trip. It is but a note, yet the single item which refers to “three hundred photographs,” tells the story of his busy days: