It is necessary to grasp these first simple facts to appreciate the following episode: A certain young Villager--I shall not give his name, but he is an artist of growing and striking reputation, dark-eyed and rather attractive looking--burst into a friend's studio pale with anger: "See here, have you a copy of 'The Trufflers' ?" "Not guilty," swore the surprised friend.

"Why on earth do you want--" But the young artist had dashed forth again, hot upon his quest.

A few houses down the street, he made another spectacular entrance with the same cry;--at another and still another.

One friend frankly confessed he had never heard of the book, another expressed indignation that he should be suspected of owning a copy.

But not until the temperamental, brown-eyed artist had visited several acquaintances was he able to get what he wanted.
When the long-sought volume was in his grasp, he heaved a sigh of something more emphatic than relief.
"How much did you pay for this thing ?" he demanded.
"I didn't.