One day a rich citizen came in, and asked him the price of
a certain picture.
'Two hundred florins,' said Rembrandt.
'Agreed,' said his visitor. 'I will pay you to-morrow, when I send
for the picture.'
About an hour afterwards a letter was handed to the painter. Its
contents were as follow: 'MASTER REMBRANDT--During your absence a
few days since, I saw in your studio a picture representing an old
woman churning butter. I was enchanted with it; and if you will let
me purchase it for 300 florins, I pray you to bring it to my house,
and be my guest for the day.' The letter was signed with some
fictitious name, and bore the address of a village several leagues
distant from Amsterdam.
Tempted by the additional 100 florins, and caring little for
breaking his engagement, Rembrandt set out early next morning with
his picture. He walked for four hours without finding his obliging
correspondent, and at length, worn out with fatigue, he returned
home. He found the citizen in his studio, waiting for the picture.
As Rembrandt, however, did not despair of finding the man of the 300
florins, and as a falsehood troubled but little his blunted
conscience, he said: 'Alas! an accident has happened to the picture;
the canvas was injured, and I felt so vexed that I threw it into the
fire. Two hundred florins gone! However, it will be my loss, not
yours, for I will paint another precisely similar, and it shall be
ready for you by this time to-morrow.
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