A hobby is known to be a spare-time recreational practiced for interest and enjoyment with the aim of personal , rather than financial reward. What are hobbies for some people are professions for others: a may enjoy playing computer games as a hobby, while a professional game tester might enjoy cooking. Generally speaking, the person who does something for fun, not , is called an or hobbyist, as distinct from a professional. True that much early scientific research was, in effect, a hobby of the . Some hobbies result in an end product of sorts, such as woodworking, photography, moviemaking, artistic projects, up to higher end projects like building or restoring a car, or building a computer from . While these may just be for the enjoyment of the hobbyist, they sometimes have potential to be a small business. Lastly, hobbies may also have value to some to distract obsessed minds from harmful thoughts or activities.
Old Collis P. Ellsworth was no ordinary case for Doctor Caswell as the old gentleman, being in pretty good shape for a man of seventy-six, had to be kept from his of buying things. He had suffered his last after his disastrous purchase of a railroad out in Iowa. All his purchases of recent years had to be at a great sacrifice both to his health and his . Knowing that a stitch in time saves nine, the doctor suggested his patient's taking up art and had even got a student from one of the art schools to come once a week to show how to with chalk and . Next afternoon the young man — Frank Swain, eighteen years old and a promising student - was shown into the big living room. He a box of water-colors and some tubes of along. "Let's try and draw that vase over there on the ," he suggested. In a shaky hand the old man made two and connected them with a couple of crude lines. Frank was patient. He needed the five dollars for his and as the weeks went by Swain's visits grew more . When Doctor Caswell called Ellsworth would talk about nothing but art proudly displaying the smears of paint on his heavy silk dressing gown. The treatment seemed to be working perfectly. No more trips downtown to become involved in purchases of enterprises of doubtful . The doctor thought it safe to allow Ellsworth to visit the Metropolitan, the Museum of Modem Art and other with Swain. An entirely new world opened up its charming mysteries. The old man displayed an curiosity about the galleries and the painters who exhibited in them. How were the galleries run? Who selected the for the exhibitions?
In late spring Ellsworth executed a smudge which he called "Trees Dressed in White", which resembled a of salad dressing thrown violently up against a wall. Then he made a announcement to be going to exhibit it in the Summer show at the Lathrop Gallery, the biggest art exhibit of the year in quality, if not in size whose prize was the lifetime dream of every artist. To the astonishment of all "Trees Dressed in White" was accepted for the Lathrop show. Fortunately, the strange anomaly was hung in an place where it could not excite any noticeable comment. During the course of the exhibition the unusually old man kept on taking his lessons, seldom mentioning his entry in the exhibit.
Two days before the close of the exhibition a special brought a long official-looking envelope to Mister Ellsworth while Swain and the doctor were in the room. "Read it to me," requested the old man. "My eyes are tired from painting." The read out, "It gives the Lathrop Gallery pleasure to announce that the First Landscape Prize of $1,000 has been awarded to Collis P. Ellsworth for his painting, "Trees Dressed in White". While Swain was uttering a series of , Doctor Caswell said: "Congratulations, Mister Ellsworth. Fine, fine ... See, see ... Of course, I didn't expect such great news. But, but — well, now, you'll have to admit that art is much more satisfying than business."
"Art's nothing," the old man. "I (FOUR WORDS to finish the story) last month."