“It’s the true worrd,” agreed Reilly. He sighed, then added not without a touch of pardonable pride: “Well, she’s no fool, and she’s me own daughter. There’s something in that.”
RECOLLECTIONS OF FREDERIC REMINGTON
BY AUGUSTUS THOMAS
Author of “Arizona,” “The Witching Hour,” etc.
WITH PICTURES BY FREDERIC REMINGTON AND A PORTRAIT
FREDERIC REMINGTON had a large mind in a big body. The mind had great natural capacity in many directions, and in one of those directions was remarkably self-taught. The body had been splendidly cultivated and came to be unwisely overtaxed. His young manhood was spent in the far West, at work with the cow-boys and near the soldiers and Indians whose picture historian he was destined to become. The life of those men was rude and exciting. Much that would be considered dissipation in civilized surroundings was logical reaction to their environment—man’s answer to nature’s challenge. Remington adopted the cow-boy habit and point of view, and finally assimilated the cow-boy standard and philosophy. It is necessary to consider that fact if one would accurately estimate his character, his work, his achievement, and his untimely end. His very intimacy with the men and the material he drew was purchased at what others may call that cost. Future generations who profit by the facts he recorded must not quarrel with the method of their unconscious acquisition; and the wisest of those who loved him would be less wise if they wished any of his steps retraced. That education reinforced the independence of his nature, made him indifferent to the “cards and custards” of society, and, to speak after his own fashion, kept him “with the bark on.” He worked unhampered by rule, example, or opinion, a veritable child of nature, and he died untamed. Nature and second nature kept him at high pressure. He lived, thought, spoke, and worked by a series of explosions insulated under deep sympathy and great good humor.
Remington was primitive and partizan. Sensitive as an Indian, he liked instinctively and enduringly, he hated intuitively and long. He adored the memory of his father, who had been a soldier, and he remembered him in his uniform. Besides, in the West, in Frederic’s day, the local advent of the troopers meant sudden and inflexible order. The military acted promptly and without debate.
Remington loved the soldiers; he loathed all politicians because they talked.