Malvina Hoffman, though never a studio helper, was a familiar practitioner in it and often a guest of the Borglums. Gutzon gave her occasional technical advice, beginning with her first attempt at carving. She had modeled a head of her father on the end of a piece of lead pipe with no proper armature, and was copying it in marble. Another New York sculptress, Ethel Hood, whom he met later, impressed him so much that he invited her to work with him in the Black Hills, but by that time she was too busy in the East. Perhaps the most indispensable worker and helper was Robert (“Bob”) A. Baillie of Closter, New Jersey. Gutzon repeatedly called him “the best marble carver in the United States.” He started in the Thirty-eighth Street studio to work on the carving of figures for the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, and remained there steadily for ten years. When Gutzon began to be called away more and more from New York on distant commissions Baillie’s work for other sculptors increased, and in time he was one of the most sought-after assistants in New York. The models, too, were interesting, but only a few are remembered now. There was a man with a white beard who had posed for many sculptors, including Mr. Barnard. There was Lord Methuen’s former valet who had lost the weekly payroll while returning from the bank. Best of all was sweet, gentle Julia Percy, who posed for some of Gutzon’s best marbles. She married a sculptor who had worked in the studio and went with him to California. Unfortunately the marriage was not happy and ended in divorce. Long afterward, in 1947, she wrote a few recollections of her life in the studio: During my youth while working as a model for Mr. Borglum, his talks to students talented enough to be invited to the studio were always of a constructive nature. He gave advice as to their outlook on life and conduct of living. The younger ones were told that they could set an example in their schools and be a help at home. His reverence and respect for womanhood were well known by all who were acquainted with him. Talent and sincerity were what he looked for. He had no use for plagiarists--“cribbers,” he called them--especially in the field of architecture. He had a keen sense of humor and many a laugh we all had at the way he would tell of an amusing incident he had seen. One of his sayings when referring to someone who lacked initiative was, “You can’t pick up custard with a hook.” He also could tell a man’s character by a look at his clothes. If worn for any length of time, he said, they seem to take on the lines of the body.