When he was gone the Colonel said: "The fact is, I've got to throw myself on your indulgence just this once more, Suggs; you see the remittances I was expecting--" "Hang the remittances--it's too stale--it won't answer.

Come!" The Colonel glanced about him in despair.

Then his face lighted; he ran to the wall and began to dust off a peculiarly atrocious chromo with his handkerchief.

Then he brought it reverently, offered it to the collector, averted his face and said: "Take it, but don't let me see it go.

It's the sole remaining Rembrandt that--" "Rembrandt be damned, it's a chromo." "Oh, don't speak of it so, I beg you.