"In other words, it is more salable but not so artistic."
"Yes, I think that is it. You will have to exhibit your canvases after a while, when you have enough. I am sure you could find buyers."
The young man made no reply, but silently set his sketches aside. "I saw you out with Luther Williams," he said presently.
"Yes, and I came near to being seasick in that little boat that flopped about so wickedly at anchor, but I was rewarded with a whole bucketful of tinkers, and I don't mind looking back upon the afternoon now it is over."
"Who is the individual with the antennae and the buoyant step?" asked Kenneth, bending over his box.
"Oh, that? A steel magnate from Boston. He does look rather like some queer insect, though his ambitions are very human. I fancy he will never grow wings here below. He could never get along at all in the upper air, for he is of the earth, earthy, and if he is an insect he is not the flying kind."
"A hopping one, may be, a grasshopper?"
"Yes, his flights would never be higher. He makes rather a good grasshopper."
"I should call him a jar-fly. You know that's what the negroes call locusts sometimes."
"But why a jar-fly?"