'Строптивого митрополита Иван 4 презрительно именовал Филькой, а его грамоты - филькиными грамотами'
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ONE COAT OF WHITE

Everybody knows by this time that we first met Lautisse on shipboard but few people know that in the beginning Betsy2 and I had no idea who he was.

We were on the Queen Elizabeth,3 coming back from our first trip to Europe. It was on the second day that I ran into him sitting in a quiet corner on deck. He gave me a nasty look. I started to back away mumbling an apology and then his expression changed.

"Wait!" he called out. "You are an American?"

His English was good, and he asked me if I had a moment to help him with a small problem. He wanted to know the name of some United States Senator4for the ship's daily crossword puzzle. I sat down and puzzled over the thing. The definition was, "Senator who crosses a river." I thought of Senator Ford, but there were no Fords on the passenger list, and then I got it — Senator Bridges. There was a MissEthelyn Bridges on board.

I didn't see him until next day, just before lunch, when he came into the main lounge, caught me by the arm, and whispered "Look!" In his big hand he was holding a man's wallet made of pigskin. "The prize!" he said. "See what I've won! But for you, though, I would have never solved the puzzle. Come and have a cocktail with me."

I went with him to his state-room,and he got out a bottle of.brandy. He introduced himself as Monsieur Roland and kept thanking me for my help with the puzzle. Then he began asking me some questions about myself and my business, and I told him I soldoil-burners.

We sat there talking, and finally he asked me if I could keep a secret, and then he said, "I am Lautisse."

I told Betsy all about it, so after lunch we went up and talked to the ship's librarian, asked him a few innocent questions and then dropped the name of Lautisse. We were greatly impressed by what we heard. We found out that my new friend was probably the world's greatest living painter, that he had given up painting and was heard to say that he would never touch another brush as long as he lived.

Betsy talked me into sending a note to his cabin, asking him around for a drink.

Well, we got to be real friendly. He planned to spend a month in New York, and it was Betsy who suggested that he come up to our place for a weekend.

Lautisse arrived on the noon train Saturday and I met him at the station. We

had promised him that we wouldn't invite any people in and that we wouldn't try to talk art to him. Driving out from the station I asked him if he wanted to do anything in particular, like play croquet or go for a swim or a walk in the woods, and he said that he just wanted to sit and relax.

I'm no Tom Sawyer— I wasn't looking for anybody to paint that fence. I let him finish two sides of the post and then interrupted. "I'll take it from here," I said, reaching for the brush. 

Some time during the afternoon he asked me if we were anywhere near Chappaqua, and I said it was the next town, and he wanted to know if we had ever heard ofGerston, the sculptor. We had heard of him, of course, and Lautisse said he had once known Gerston in Paris, and would it be possible to get in touch with him? I got Gerston on the telephone for him, but he talked in French, and I have no idea what the conversation was about.

The day after the story appeared a reporter and a photographer from one of the papers arrived at our place. Besides taking pictures of Betsy and me, as well as of the house, they asked for every single detail of the great man's visit, and Betsy told them of course about the garden fence. They took more pictures of the fence, the paint bucket and the brush and the next morning the paper had quite a story. The headline said: LAUTISSE PAINTS AGAIN.

It gave us a sort of funny feeling, all this publicity,6 but we didn't have much time to think about it. People started arriving in large numbers. They all wanted my garden fence, because it had been painted by the great Lautisse.

In their turn they asked me if I knew that a single painting by Lautisse was worth as much as a quarter of a million dollars and whether I realized that my garden fence was a genuine Lautisse. I told them I'd make my decision in the next few days.

Those next few days were bedlam. We had to have the telephone disconnected — there were calls from all over the country. 

The fence was taken to New York. 

And indeed I did have. Twenty-nine sections of the thirty sections ware sold within a month's time at 10,000 each. I kept the thirtieth, it's hanging now in ourliving-room.

After it was all over, I went to see Gerston.

"Lautisse was genuinely fond of you and Mrs.Gregg," he said. "He had no idea, when he painted your fence, that it would make such a noise. But when it did, he got a good laugh out of it. And it was his idea to have the fence cut into sections. Then he got down to work and signed each one."