The Youth’s Companion tells this incident about the peculiar moods of Turner, the artist, in the matter of selling his pictures:
At times nothing could induce him to part with one of them, and at other times he would receive a customer with the greatest affability of voice and manner, and readily settle upon the sum to be paid for one of his treasures.
On one occasion, when he was offered one thousand pounds apiece for some old sketchbooks, he turned them over leaf by leaf before the eyes of the would-be purchaser, saying, “Well, would you really like to have them?”
Then, just as the man proceeded to take possession of the books, Turner, with a tantalizing “I dare say you would!” suddenly thrust them into a drawer and turned the key in the lock, leaving the customer dumb with indignation.
On another occasion a rich manufacturer of Birmingham managed to secure an entrance into the artist’s house, after considerable parley with the disagreeable janitress whom Turner employed. He hurried up-stairs to the gallery. In a moment Turner dashed out upon him with anything but a hospitable air. The visitor bowed politely and introduced himself, saying he had come to buy some pictures.
“Don’t want to sell,” said the artist gruffly.
“Have you ever seen our Birmingham pictures, Mr. Turner?” inquired the visitor blandly.
“Never heard of ’em,” returned the artist.
The manufacturer now took an attractive package of crisp Birmingham bank-notes from his wallet.
“Mere paper,” said Turner contemptuously.