erved him as cook, thinking
this a more economical alliance than one with a person of refined mind and
habits. He and his wife usually dined on brown-bread, salt herrings, and
small-beer. He occasionally took portraits at a high price, and in this
way became acquainted with the Burgomaster Six, a man of enlarged mind and
unblemished character, who yet continued faithfully attached to the
avaricious painter. His friendship was sometimes put to a severe test by
such occurrences as the following:

Rembrandt remarked one day that the price of his engravings had fallen.

"You are insatiable," said the burgomaster.

"Perhaps so. I can not help thirsting for gold."

"You are a miser."

"True; and I shall be one all my life."

"'Tis really a pity," remarked his friend, "that you will not be able
after death to act as your own treasurer, for whenever that event occurs,
all your works will rise to treble their present value."

A bright idea struck Rembrandt. He returned home, went to bed, desired his
wife and his son Titus to scatter straw before the door, and give out,
first, that he was dangerously ill, and then dead--while the simulated
fever was to be of so dreadfully infectious a nature that none of the
neighbors were to be admitted near the sick-room. These instructions were
followed to the letter; and the disconsolate widow proclaimed that, in
order to procure money for her husband's interment, she must sell all his
works, any property that he left not being available on so short a notice.

The unworthy trick succeeded. The sale, including every trivial scrap of
painting or engraving, realized an enormous sum, and Rembrandt was in
ecstasy. The honest burgomaster, however, was nearly frightened into a fit
of apoplexy at seeing the man whose death he had sincerely mourned
standing alive and well at the door of his studio. Meinherr Six obliged
him to promise that he would in future abstain from such abominable
deceptions. One day he was employed in painting in a group the likenesses
of the whole family of a rich citizen. He had nearly finished it, when
intelligence was brought him of the death of a tame ape which he greatly
loved. The creature had fallen off the roof of the house into the street.
Without interrupting his work, Rembrandt burst into loud lamentations, and
after some time announced that the piece was finished. The whole family
advanced to look at it, and what was their horror to see introduced
between th