The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1909-09-25

sOS' DAS ! u 4AAO Ouy lAC NAOlO
thing and show 'em how to run it.
They'd make more in the end"
Yes. sir. hope you will, sir. Beg
pardon, sir. but do you think it would
cost great deal!"
They'd ask a great deal, anyway"
answered the millionaire thoughtfully.
"Stemp, suppose you get me out some
things and then take q look around,
while try to get wash in that-that
tea-service there"
Mr.. Van Torp eyed the exiguous
basin and jug with some curiosity
and much contempt. Stemp. impassive
and correct under all circumstances,
unstrapped a valise, laid out on the
bed what his master might need, and
inquired If he wished anything else.
There isn't anything else" an.
swered Mr.. Van Torp, gloomily.
When shall come back, sir?"
I'm Is minutes. There isn't half
an hours wash in that soup-plate,
anyway"
He eyed the wretched basin with a
glance that might almost have
cracked 1t. When his man had gone,
he proceeded to his toilet. such as 1t
was, and solaced himself by softly
whistling as much of the Good Fri.
day" music as he remembered, little
dreaming what 1t was. or that his per-
Torrance was followed with nervous
and almost feverish interest by the
occupant of the next room in tee at
tic, a poor musician who had saved
and scraped for years to sit at the
musical feast during three days.
IF sharp" cried an agonized voice
on the other side of the closed door,
in strong German accent II know
it is E sharp! know it,"
Mr.. Van Torp stopped whistling at
once, lowered his razor, and turned a
mask of soapsuds in the direction
whence the sound came
do you mean me?" he inquired in
q displeased tone.
II mean who whistles the Good FRI
day music" answered the voice. II
tell you. I know it is E sharp in that
place. I have the score. shall show
you il you believe not"
He's mad" observed Mr.. Van
Torp, beginning to shave again. Are
you lunatic?" he asked. pausing aft
er moment. What's the matter
with you, anyhow"
II am musician, tell you! am
pianist!"
ITS the same thing" said Mr.. Van
Torp, working carefully on his upper
lin under hia RIGHT noctril
Il shall tell you that you are q bar
barian!" retorted the voice.
well, that doesn't hurt" answered
Mr.. Van Torp.
He heard snort of scorn on the
other side and there was silence
again. But before long, as he got
away from his upper lip with the
razor, he unconsciously began to whis-
tie again, and he must have made the
same mistake as before, for he was
interrupted by deep groan of pain
from the next room.
| mot feeling very well?" he inquired
In tone Of dry POPULARITY. Stomach
upset!"
IF sharp" screamed the wretched
pianist.
Van Torp could hear him dancing
with rage or pain.
See here, whoever you are, don't
call names! don't ike 1t. seeo I've
paid for this room ana I'm going on
whistling If like, and Just az long as
l like"
"You say you make noises you
like?" cried the infur,ated musician
ooh, no! You shall not! There are
rules! We are not in London, sir,
we are in Bayreuth! If you make
noises, you shall be thrown out Of the
! house."
Shall I? We'll, now, that's a funny
sort of rule for a hotel. isn't it,"
II go complain Of you," retorted the
other, and Mr. Van Torp heard door
j opened and shut again.
| In a few minutes he had done all
that the conditions would permit in
the way Of making himself present
able, and just as he left the room he
was met by Stemp. the rs minutes be-
ing Just over.
Very good, sir. I'll do what can,
SIR" said the excellent man, as Mr..
Van Torp pointed to the things that
lay about.
AS he went out, he recognized the
voice of his neighbor, who was talk
ing eXcitedly in voluble German, some
where at the back of the house
Hes complaining now" thought
Mr.. Van Torp, with something like a
smile.
| He had already been to the best
hotel. in the hope Of obtaining rooms.
and he had no difficulty in finding 1t
again. He asked for Nine. da Cor
dova. She was at home, for 1t was an
off-day; he sent in his card, and was
presently led to her sitting room.
Times had changed. Six months
earlier he would have been told that
there had been mistake and that she
had gone out.
She was alone; letter she had
been writing lay unfinished on the
queer little desk near the shaded
window and her pen had fallen across