The Spinster Book

ght of

on with the Mas

"but I do not get on with Fr?ulein

not like m

tunate from the first, though I was

ughed Iris, "it means to her jus

d I told her so, but where in t

you happen to not

downstairs, or even in Herr Kaufmann's bedroom, which opens off of it. When I come,

which he used to have when he played in the famous orchestra, with the brim cut off and plenty of gold paint put on. The gilded pot

Lynn, reproachfull

ould I

ng so outrage

y giving pleasure to the Fr?ulein. Much trouble would be saved if people who undertake to give pleasure would consult the wishes of the recipient in preference to their own. Tast

that would please her,"

of a fish broiler, a chair that was once a barrel, a dresser which has been evolved from a packing box, a sofa that was primar

? The desirable things se

song under her breath, and came back presently with a clothes-pin, a sheet o

he world-"

clothes-pin gold, with a black head, a

u going to

ble advice-it is yo

e pointed to me once and said something in German to her brother. I didn't understand, but I remembered the words, and when I

er and squeeze it up into a little ball, then straighten it out and do

inally, "if it's squeezed

pin and make some straight black li

se tell me wha

and

side. The corners were cut and pulled into the semblance of wings, and black circles were painted here and there

in pleased surpr

, pausing in the doorway. "I

hering up her paints and sweeping aside the

," mused Irving, criticall

urs, such as one sees in the fields, but they hurt mine eyes. Still because the tidies and the crazy jug swear to me, it is no reason for me to hurt mine sister's feelings. We have a large house. Fredrika has the upstairs and I h

et, who was listening in

reeted with childish cries of delight on either side. Hoping for equal success at the Master's, he rang the be

s not home," sh

winning smile, "but I came to se

r eyes as she took it from hi

for you. I

s for me by y

Temple h

likewise," she hastened to add. "It will be of a niceness if Miss

thank you very much." Thus Lynn ma

ted time. Lynn's arms were full of wild crab-apple blooms, which he had taken a long w

er sharp eyes were kind. The Master was clad in rusty black, which bore marks of frequent sponging and occasional pr

of every tree there must be some beautiful young lady, such as we read about in the old books-a young lady something like Miss Iris. All Winter, when it is cold, she sleeps in her soft bed, made fro

for some rain to keep it together. Then she says one charm. With a forked stick she packs it

o the rain makes all very wet, and the wind blows and the sun shines, and presently the sand and dirt that she has put in

comes up in the morning, it sees that the branches are all covered with buds and leaves. The young

ost wonderful sweetness," he went on. "It is wind and grass a

Fredrika, "you will bri

the tiny bird-house on the brink of a precipice, where everything appeared to be made out of something else. She was in high spirits and

ys in Germany, wonderful adventures by land and sea, and conjured up glimpses of the kings and queens of the Old World. "Life," he sighed, "is ve

the Fr?ulein. "The dear God knows. Yet sometimes I

the Master, "are y

d and her piercing eyes were misty. One saw that, however

spite of her protests. "One does not ask on

aughing, "that one's guests have was

d him of great violinists he had heard and of famous old vio

," said the Master, "do

I have that pleasure. H

me to go out on one grand tour and give many concerts and secure much fame, but why should I go, I ask him, when I am happy here? So

e papers, and I have had many large sums, which, of course, I have always given to the poor. One should use one's art to do good with and not to become rich. I have mine house, mine clothes, all that is good

e was saying, "I will stick them together with glue and make mineself one little house to sit on t

on to the word, she pulled down the lamp that hung by heavy chains in the cen

he Master. "It is not a ne

an, "would you not lik

ered Lynn. "I like

Did I tell you how you could make a little clothes-

itedly, "you did not. It will be

s flashed in the dark. Down in the valley, velvety night was laid over the river and the willows that grew along its margin, but

times falls between lovers, who have no need of speech. Lynn and Iris looked forward to the future, with the limitless

uds and flooded the valley with silver lig

the ugliness is hidden, as in life, when one can dream

closer to Iris. Fr?ulein Fredrika retreated int

down by the window and the moonlight touched his face caressingly. He was grey with his fifty years and more, bu

ed the bow on the sill, as an orchestra leader taps f

onies, and quaintly phrased. In a moment, they caught the witchery of it, and the me

and shining waters sang through Summer silences. All at once there was a pause, then, sonorous,

forget the instrument. Iris was trembling, for she well knew those hi

and sighed. "Come," faltered Ir

r with them. "Franz is thinking," she whispered. "He is often lik

ked once more across the shadowed valley to the luminous ranges of the everlasting hills. She t

house, but there was no sound from within nor any light save at the window,