New-York tribune., 1900-12-30
THE PINK PERSIAN.

who owed us a little money Macmurray. the
publisher, owed me the small balance Of a
trifiing account. My friend Summersales (who
is really a notable coIOrist) was in treaty with
/ q possible buyer over one Of his pictures, and
might soon be expected 10 repay me the %
buy the frame. Yvette had written a song 70
order for amateur composer. All these were
pink checks HutterinS IN air, SuIlrnersaleSs eX-
cepted which would arrive in Is postal orders
or. perhaps, "a and abject apology.
Lymchurch was the second halting place we
had marked on the reduced ordnance map
when planned that long holiday which
to take in everything lovely and desirable =
We found Lymchurch very cheap and inaA
cessible and we stayed there. 1t was there thu
We had first counted cut our money and found
how little there was or II when II was spread
out. And at the end of the three weeks there
was little left that 1 kept it in my pocket for
fear my wife should depreSs herself by counting
it, But she knew exactly how much there was.
| "Oh. dearT' she sighed one morning across the
breakfast table, I'VE ought never to have come
fOr holiday row. We ought to have waited"
4 She looked thOughtfuiy at the bits of bread
and butter on our plates, and the heads and
tails OF the shrimps in the slOp BASIN
| "As far spending money goes time and
space are nothing to We spend money
wherever We are. Whether at Naishapur or
BabylOn-you know. And here at least there
\ is no temptation to waste il by paying anything
on account and here we two smile at that
last quarters gas bill, which lies besOtting itself
where the buttered toast has been"
| She glanced dOubtfully at it as it lay there.
pale and greasy.
| II suppose there is nothing one can do to earn
money here. If we caught shrimps could but
eat them (and il would cost US more than that
in the colds should get). Or might spear
eels in the marshes, and the same destiny would
be theirs. 1 wish publishers paid ready money"
| Every wishes that about every one else"
I returned. II expect the butcher wishes''-
HE can't wish it more than do" she inter-
/ rupted Some people black their faces when
they are at the seaside and sing and play. and
make heaps of money, and go back first class "
| AT Lymchurch?'
| mo; ought TO have gone to Margate So
few OF them DdV the mandolin and I'm
none of them play the guitar we'll as do"
| Let take the mandolin / said briskly,
! land the guitar in the baiZe bag. We will walk
inland to the little green squares the tourist
map Those are parks where the wealthy
mobiles dwell We will call on the wealthy no
bies and endeavor to cheer them in their 'agri-
| cultural depression
Yvette took the mandolin from the little horse
hair sofa and laughed
| We'll. go now" she said but they won't
give us anything. and believe j. P. could
convict you for being found with guitar"
But we'll go; it's our clear duty If they
don't give us anything we shall have done our
part, and shall wear the macintosh cloak"
| Put it on" said. 1T must be hOpeessly
incumBered estate that hasn't twOpence TO send
/ out by the butler TO artist. Let US 60" a
And we really did gO-then and there. .soe
III.
I We walked along the street hiding the man
colin; we left the guitar at home. for it in
delicate health. We hid the mandolin till we
We're past the tall black and white windmill that
bounds the village. and then we took the pleas
! ant WlhOlnS marsh road at quick march
strummed by Yvette. The knot of blue ribbon
was beside her neck. and the sun came out
/ little, though it was a late. sad autumn day
( At times we sat down by the wayside and cor
rected our way with map. And by many
, long fOOtpathS We drew near TO Farringwater
Park, and il at length before u.s. a hfg-
Sledy-pigSledy pile of mellow red brick mixed
with gray beams. appearing suddenly as we
turned the corner of a row of elms. BY the
last elm We sat down on the grass at the road
side and read the pages of the old and shabby
guidebOok that told us how the TukeS had ac-
quired the manor from the Grow n-Edward
NTs topping crOwn-and how James III slept
there on his flight from London wonder how
they know he slept, said Yvette-and how the
architecture irregular and picturesque
and how the picture gallery contained three
Rubenses Vandyck and Bartholomew van
I der HeIlst.
Then Yvette shut the guidebOOk and put il
away in my pocket and screwed up the
strings of the mandolin. YVette went first, and.
/ think. it was not until we had arranged our
selves by the pOTch-which was a little stone
pOrticO with Hchened slabs and decaying long
green Seat-that we We're distracted and put to
/ open shame by the thought that We had not set
tied on tune and song. In agitation We
were pressing the mandolin each other when
the door flung hack.
4 tall very tall, StalWart woman. with a
large, tightly shut mouth and iron gray hair,
hurried out and looked to the sides of the porch
and down the walk We stood uneasiIy search
ing our minds for the joyous abandon of our
minstrel class.
Our turn came at last. She stood in the atti-
tude OF " Tenshun,' her very large hands folded
ID halo