The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1901-01-06
Pc Nesbitt and Oswald Barron, in BIacl
and White

There were two or three people in the
81 lwerld who owed us little money.
Macmurray, the publisher owed me the
small balance of trifing account My
friend Summersales (wno is really
notable colorisD was in treaty with
ii possible buyer over one of his pictures,
and might soon be expected to repay me
the So which, after his custom, he has
borrowed 10 buy the frame. Yvette had
H written song to order for amateur
II composer, All these were pink checks
h 11uttering in air, Summersales' excepted,
which would arrive in IS postal orders,
Il or, perhaps. G. and an abject apology.
4 1ymchurch was the second hating
Il place we had marked or the reduced
Y ordnance map when we planned that
long lhoiday which was to take in every
thing lovely and desirable in two or three
I counties
H We found I.ymchurch very cheap and
u inaccessible. and we stayed there. 1t
Z was there that we had first counted out
our money, and found how little there
was Of 1t when it was spread cut. And
7 at the end Of the three weeks there was
so little left that I kept it in my pocket
for fear my wife should depress herself
Z by counting it. But she knew exactly
how much there was.
"Oh, dear"' she sighed one morning
: across the breakfast table I'VE ought
never to have come for q holiday now.
4 I'VE ought to have waited
z She looked thoughtfully at the bits of
bread and butter on our plates, and the
heads and tails of the shrimps in the Stop
basin.
y ''As far as spending money goes, time
and space are nothing to US. We spend
our money wherever we are. Watcher al
Nalshapur or Babylon-you know. And
here at least there is no temptation to
waste it by paying anything on account
and here we two can smile at that last
H1-hi oh,
Itself where the buttered toast has BEEN
She glanced doubtfully at it as it lay
There, pale and greasy
H. 1 suppose there is nothing one can do
20 earn money here If we caught
shrimps we could but eat them (and it
! would cost us more than that in the
colds we should geD. Or we might spear
eeis in the marshes, and the same des-
tiny would be theirs. I wish publishers
, paid ready money"
4 Every one wishes that about every
/ one else" I returned 4 expect the
4 Butcher wishes"-
| He eant>wish it more than I do" she
\ Interrupted Some people black their
/ faces when they are at the seaside, and
1 sing and play, and make heaps of money,
and go hack first class "
/ AT Lymchurch?'
/ .''No; We ought to have gone to Mar
/ gate So few of them play the mandolin,
I and m sure none of them play the
/ guitar as we'll as I do"
| Let us take the mandolin" I said
bliskly, "ands the guitar in the baize bag
/ We will walk inland to the little green
! squares on the tourist map Those are
/ parks where the wealthy mobiles dwell.
1 We Will call on the wealthy mobiles and
! endeavor to cheer them in their 'agri-
cultural depression
Yvette took the mandolin from the lit
| tie horse-hair sofa and laughed.
well now - said +haXy
won't give US anything, and I believe a.
j. P, could convict you for being found
| with a guitar"
Stuff I said, gayly.
! "But We'll go; its our clear duty. If
they don't give us anything we shall
haye done our part, and shall wear the
macintosh cloak
''Put it on I said. "It must be a
hopelessly incumbered estate that hasn't
| twopence to send out by the butler to an
! artist. Let us 60"
And we really did go-then and there
IT.
/, We walked along the street, hiding the
mandolin; we left the guitar at home,
! for it was 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 pleasant
I winding marsh road at a quick march
strummed by Yvette The knot of blue
ribbon was beside her neck and the sun
came out a little, though it was late,
sad autumn day.
At times we sat down by the wayside
and corrected our way with a map. And
so by many long footpaths we drew near
TO FarrinSwater Park, and saw it at
length before us, g higgledy-piggledy
pile of mellow red brick. mixed with
I gray beams. appearing suddenly as we
turned the corner of row of elms. By
the last elm We sat down on the grass at
! the roadside and read the pages of the
4 old and shabby guidebook that told us
/ how the Tukes had acquired the manor
- from the crown-Edward Wis tobpIing
/ croWn-and how James II. slept there on
/ his Tight from London-'I wonder how
they know he slept" said Yvette-and
how the architecture was irregular and
l. picturesque-and how the picture gallery
/ contained three Rubenses, a Vandvck and
Bartholomew van der Hel1st
Then Yvette shut the guideboolz and
put it away in my pocket, and we screw
ed up the strings of the mandolin. Yvette
went first. and, 1 think, it was not until
We mad arranged ourselves by the porch
Which was a little stone portico with
! HicheEed slabs and a decaying long green
( Seat-that We We're distracted and put to
open shame by the thought that we had
not settled on a tune and song. Tn orr
on each other when the door was flung
back.
A tail, very tall, stalwart woman with
q large, tightly shut mouth and iron era V
| mar, hurried out and looked to the sides
OF the porch and down the walk We
stood uneasily searching our minds for
inc Joyous abandon of our minstrel class
= Our turn came al last She stood in
the attitude of '"Tenshun,'' her very
hands folded below the large cameo
brooch on her stiff black silk bosom
quiry. - III
That settled it. Bouyant and careless
indeed must be the tunefuI wanderer
VINO could have then produced the man
DOM begging to be allowed to waken her
lighter emotions.
Avette saw it at once-this impossible
madness and, hiding the mandolin un-
Ger her macintosh, she turned aside
The harsh look that followed it to its
hiding place toward my hesitating shv-
ness.
L ASSOCIATED myself stu further from,
the mandolin by producing a crumpled
visiting card that my nervous fingers had
straEed upon in the pocket of my Nor
folk Jacket
he family is not at home" said the
woman, but she took the card between
TWO muscular fingers and 1 could have
danced in my agitation when I saw thar
Fhe was spelling out a pencilled memo
-