“This was rather demoralizing to the school, for even then I drew
cartoons. Finally, I was taken away, and my father painted a
blackboard, four feet high by fifteen feet long, on the side of a room
in the farm-house, where, with plenty of chalk, I drew to my heart’s
content. I would draw all day.”
“And you received no instructions in drawing?”
“I never had a lesson in my life. It was my father’s ambition for me
to become a cartoonist. When, in later years, I did anything that he
considered particularly good, he would carry me off to Portland, and
I would submit it to the Portland ‘Oregonian,’ where my attempts were
always laughed at. Then, much crestfallen, I would return to the farm.
“‘Now, my boy,’ my father would say, ‘that is good enough to be
printed,’ and off I would go again.
“At length, the news spread that I had a job on the Portland
‘Oregonian.’ The whole town became interested, and when the day arrived
for my departure, the band of which I was a member, and many of the
townspeople, escorted me with due honor to the railroad station.”