Gray dropped into Brown's studio one morning about five years ago.

It was a small town in which they lived, supporting but two studios and the little penny picture gallery around the corner.

Gray and Brown were doing good work, because they knew how. The penny picture man made penny pictures.Said Gray to Brown, 'The Convention is pulled off in a couple of months and I guess it's up to us to figure on taking it in. It'll do us some good to break away from here and look over the displays and listen to some of the talks handed out."

Brown didn't warm up to the proposition and after a silence lasting for a full minute answered, "Well, Gray, I don't know about it. I did figure on taking a little vacation along about that time but I rather thought I'd go up to the lakes and fish. Don't seem to me as though the Convention does a fellow much good anyhow. I've gone up until the last year or two and the last few years I didn't seem to find any new things. Guess I know about all there is to know about squeezing the bulb."

That was the beginning of Brown's retrogression. He was self satisfied and had lost interest in photographic progress. He felt that there was nothing to learn - he really knew the business from A to Z, and for him there was nothing new under the sun.

Brown went fishing. Gray went to the Convention. To-day Brown is doing the town's medium class of work. True that his work is as good as it was five years ago, but times have changed, also styles, while Brown has not.

Gray has attended every convention and considered himself well repaid if he learned but one thing each time - one new style or method and the town's better class of work is coming his way, because the people always want the new things. The penny picture man is still making penny pictures, but just because he didn't aspire to better things. There hangs a moral to the tail of this tale. Let the other fellow go fishing during convention week.