ation, which he spent in Europe,
principally at Paris and Rome. He returned to America greatly
discouraged, for the only thing he saw in Europe was classic sculpture,
with which he had no sympathy and which, indeed, he could not
understand.

So, abandoning all thought of making sculpture a profession, he went to
work as a draughtsman in Chicago, amusing himself, at odd hours, by the
construction of a group of small figures, which he called "The Checker
Players." It was exhibited at a charity fair, and awakened so much
interest and delight that Rogers burned his bridges behind him by
resigning his position, and proceeded to New York, and rented a studio,
determined to be a sculptor in spite of classicism.

The outbreak of the Civil War furnished him a host of subjects which he
treated with a patriotic fervor that went straight to the heart of an
overwrought people. "The Returned Volunteer," "The Picket-Guard," "The
Sharp-shooters," "The Camp-fire," "One More Shot," and many others, came
from his studio in rapid succession. They were all thoroughly American,
and some were even admirably sculptural. They, at least, stood for an
original idea, and deserve better treatment than the silent contempt
which, in these days, is about all that has been accorded them.

At about this time, there came upon the scene the first and only really
famous woman sculptor in the history of American art, Harriet Hosmer.
She had had an unusual childhood, and had grown into an original and
engaging woman. Born in 1830, at Watertown, Massachusetts, the daughter
of a physician, she inherited her mother's delicate constitution, and
her father encouraged her in an outdoor life of physical exercise such
as only boys, at that time, were accustomed to. She became expert in
rowing, riding, skating and shooting, developed great endurance, filled
her room with snakes and insects and birds' nests, and in a clay pit at
the end of her father's garden modelled rude figures of animals.

A few years of schooling followed this wild girlhood; then she was sent
to Boston to study drawing and modelling; but finding that no woman
would be admitted to the Boston Medical School, whose course in anatomy
she was anxious to take, she went to St. Louis and entered the medical
college there. Finally, in 1852, accompanied by her father and Charlotte
Cushman, she set sail for Italy.

She remained there for eight years, turning out a number of very
creditable figures, whi