Among the motley crowd which had made the studio a home in the days ofKirk's bachelorhood ha

　　* * * * *Among the motley crowd which had made the studio a home in the days ofKirk's bachelorhood had been an artist--one might almost say anex-artist--named Robert Dwight Penway. An over-fondness for rye whiskyat the Brevoort cafe had handicapped Robert as an active force in theworld of New York art. As a practical worker he was not greatlyesteemed--least of all by the editors of magazines, who had paidadvance cheques to him for work which, when delivered at all, wasdelivered too late for publication. These, once bitten, were now twiceshy of Mr. Penway. They did not deny his great talents, which were,indeed, indisputable; but they were fixed in their determination not tomake use of them.
　　Fate could have provided no more suitable ally for Kirk. It wasuniversally admitted around Washington Square and--grudgingly--down-townthat in the matter of theory Mr. Penway excelled. He could teach toperfection what he was too erratic to practise.
　　Robert Dwight Penway, run to earth one sultry evening in the Brevoort,welcomed Kirk as a brother, as a rich brother. Even when his firstimpression, that he was to have the run of the house on Fifth Avenueand mix freely with touchable multi-millionaires, had been corrected,his altitude was still brotherly. He parted from Kirk with many solemnpromises to present himself at the studio daily and teach him enoughart to put him clear at the top of the profession. "Way above allthese other dubs," asserted Mr. Penway.
　　Robert Dwight Penway's attitude toward his contemporaries in art bore astriking resemblance to Steve's estimate of his successors in themiddle-weight department of the American prize-ring.
　　Surprisingly to those who knew him, Mr. Penway was as good as his word.
　　Certainly Kirk's terms had been extremely generous,fake uggs; but he had thrownaway many a contract of equal value in his palmy days,moncler womens jackets. Possibly hisactivity was due to his liking for Kirk; or it may have been that theprospect of sitting by with a cigar while somebody else worked, withnothing to do all day except offer criticism, and advice, appealed tohim.
　　At any rate, he appeared at the studio on the following afternoon,completely sober and excessively critical. He examined the canvaseswhich Kirk had hauled from shelves and corners for his inspection. Oneafter another he gazed upon them in an increasingly significantsilence. When the last one was laid aside he delivered judgment.
　　"Golly!" he said.
　　Kirk flushed. It was not that he was not in complete agreement with theverdict. Looking at these paintings, some of which he had in the olddays thought extremely good, he was forced to admit that "Golly" wasthe only possible criticism.
　　He had not seen them for a long time, and absence had enabled him tocorrect first impressions. Moreover, something had happened to him,causing him to detect flaws where he had seen only merits,retro jordans. Life hadsharpened his powers of judgment. He was a grown man looking at thefollies of his youth.
　　"Burn them!" said Mr,replica chanel handbags. Penway, lighting a cigar with the air of onerestoring his tissues after a strenuous ordeal. "Burn the lot. They'reawful. Darned amateur nightmares. They offend the eye. Cast them into aburning fiery furnace."Kirk nodded. The criticism was just. It erred, if at all, on the sideof mildness. Certainly something had happened to him since heperpetrated those daubs. He had developed. He saw things with new eyes.