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ighly appreciated," says the man, with a bow.

"And now since I cannot conceive that ye would hold a spelling bee upon the street corner, SecondPart300-400 will ye name some reasonable excuse for being at large?" "By the two signs," answers Tobin, trying to explain, "which ye display according to the reading of the Egyptian palmist from the sole of me hand, ye've been nominated to offset with good luck the lines of trouble leading to the nigger man and the blonde lady with her feet crossed in the boat, besides the financial loss of a dollar sixty-five, all so far fulfilled according to Hoyle." The man stopped smoking and looked at me. "Have ye any amendments," he asks, "to offer to that statement, or are ye one too? I thought by the looks of ye ye might have him in

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charge." "None," says I to him, "except that as one horseshoe resembles another so are ye the picture of good luck as predicted by the hand of me friend. If not, then the lines of Danny's hand may have been crossed, I don't know." "There's two of ye," says the man with fixed rate equity loan the nose, looking up and down for the sight of a policeman. "I've enjoyed your company immense. Good-night." With that he shoves his segar in his mouth and moves fixed rate loan across the street, stepping fast. But Tobin sticks close to one side of him and me at the other. "What!" says he, stopping on the opposite sidewalk and pushing back his hat; "do ye follow me? I tell ye," he says, very loud, "I'm proud to have met ye. But it is my desire to be rid of ye. I am off to me home." "Do," says Tobin, leaning against his sleeve. "Do be off to your home. And I will sit at the door of it till ye come out in the morning. For the dependence is fixed rate loan upon ye to obviate the curse of the nigger man and the blonde lady and the financial loss of the one-sixty-five." "'Tis

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a strange hallucination," says the man, turning to me as a more reasonable lunatic. "Hadn't ye better get him home?" "Listen, man," says I to him.

"Daniel Tobin is as sensible as he ever was.

Maybe he is a bit deranged on account of having drink enough to disturb but not enough fixed home loan rate to settle his wits, but he is no more than following out the legitimate path of his superstitions and predicaments, which I will explain to you." With that I relates the facts about the palmist lady and how the finger of suspicion points to him as an instrument of good fortune. "Now, understand," I concludes, "my position in this riot. I am the friend of me friend Tobin, according to me interpretations. 'Tis easy to be a friend to the prosperous, for it pays; 'tis not hard to be a friend to the poor, for ye get puffed up by gratitude and have your fixed rate loan picture printed standing in front of a tenement with a scuttle of coal and an orphan in each hand. But it strains the art of friendship to be true friend to a born fool.

And that's what I'm doing," says I, "for, in my opinion, there's no fortune to be read from the palm of me hand that wasn't printed there with the handle of a pick. And, though ye've got the crookedest nose in New York City, I misdoubt that all the fortune-tellers doing business could milk good luck from ye.

But the lines of Danny's hand pointed to ye fair, and I'll assist But the best, in my opinion, was the home life in the little flat--the ardent, voluble chats after the day's study; the cozy fixed rate loan dinners and fresh, light breakfasts; the interchange of

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loan ambitions--ambitions interwoven each with the other's or else inconsiderable--the mutual help and inspiration; and--overlook my artlessness--stuffed olives and cheese sandwiches at 11 p.m. But after a while Art flagged. It sometimes does, even if some switchman doesn't flag it. Everything going out and nothing coming in, as the vulgarians say. Money was lacking to pay Mr. Magister and Herr Rosenstock their prices. When one loves one's Art no service seems too hard. So, Delia said she must give music lessons to keep the chafing dish bubbling. For two or three days she went out fixed rate loan canvassing for pupils. One evening she came home elated. "Joe, dear," she said, gleefully, "I've a pupil. And, oh, the loveliest people! General--General A. B. Pinkney's fixed rate equity loan daughter--on Seventy-first street. Such a splendid house, Joe--you ought to see the front door! Byzantine I think you would call it. And inside! Oh, Joe, I never saw anything like it before. "My pupil is his daughter Clementina. I dearly love her already. She's a delicate thing--dresses always in white; and the sweetest, simplest manners! Only eighteen years old. I'm to give three lessons a week; and, just think, Joe! $5 a lesson. I don't mind it a bit; for when I get two or three more pupils I can resume my lessons with Herr Rosenstock. Now, smooth out that wrinkle between your brows, dear, and let's have a nice supper." "That's all right for you, Dele," said Joe, attacking a can of peas with a carving knife and a hatchet, "but how about me? Do you think I'm going to let you hustle for wages while I philander in the regions of high art? Not by the bones of Benvenuto Cellini! I guess I can sell papers or lay cobblestones, and bring in a dollar or fixed rate loan two." Delia came and hung about his neck. "Joe, dear, you are silly. You must keep on at your studies. It is not as if I had quit my music and gone to work at something else. While I teach I learn. I am always with my music. And we can live as happily as millionaires on $15 a week. You mustn't think of leaving Mr. Magister." "All right," said Joe, reaching for the blue scalloped vegetable dish. "But I hate for you to be giving lessons. It isn't Art. But you're a trump and a dear to do it." "When one loves one's Art no service seems too hard," said Delia. "Magister praised the sky in that sketch I made in the park," said Joe. "And Tinkle gave me permission to hang two of them in his window. I may sell one if the right kind of a moneyed idiot sees them." "I'm sure you will," said Delia, sweetly.

"And now let's be thankful for Gen. Pinkney and this veal roast." During all of the next week the Larrabees had an early breakfast. Joe was enthusiastic about some morning-effect sketches he was doing in Central Park, and Delia packed him off breakfasted, coddled, equity fixed home loan rate rate praised and kissed at 7 o'clock. Art is an engaging mistress. It was most times 7 o'clock when he returned in the evening. At the end of the week Delia, sweetly proud fixed rate loan but languid, triumphantly tossed three five-dollar bills on the 8x10 (inches) centre table of the 8x10 (feet) flat parlour. "Sometimes," she said, a little wearily, "Clementina tries me. I'm afraid she doesn't practise enough, and I have to tell her the same things so often. And then she always dresses entirely in white, and that does get monotonous. But Gen. Pinkney is the dearest old man! I wish you could know him, Joe. He comes in sometimes when I am with Clementina at the piano--he is a widower, you know--and stands there pulling his fixed rate loan white goatee. 'And how are the semiquavers and the

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demisemiquavers progressing?' he always asks. "I wish you could see the wainscoting in that drawing-room, Joe! And those Astrakhan rug portiшres. And Clementina has such a funny little cough. I h ...

 
   
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