HA EKIN |i Wy ii MWr»i ii n i Hi iii ii|-t |iii inr i i i WTmfriKfcil i |iii p < i bit oooo-e a I,;-, CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF Marni Rogers THEIR MOTHER'S TALL FORM STOOD IN THE DOORWAY "DO TELL US ALL ABOUT ST. NICHOLAS » HANS Am) GKBra. ON a bright December morning, long ago, two thiniy clad children were kneeling upon the bank of a frozen canal in Holland. The sun had not yet appeared, but the gray sky was parted near the horizon and its edges shone crimson with the coming day. Most of the good Hollanders were enjoying a placid Bxaasdng nap ; even Mynheer von Stoppelnoze, that worthy old Dutchman, was still slumbering "in beautiful repose." Now and then some peasant woman, poising a well filled basket upcsi her head, came sMmming over the glassy surface of the canal; or a lusty boy, skating to his day's work in ihs iawn^ cast a good-natured grimace toward the dave^ag pair as hs flew aloi^, 9 10 FlANS brinker Meanwhile, with many a vigorous pull, the brotiher and sister, for such they were, seemed to be fastening something upon their feet — ^not skates, certainly, but clumsy pieces of wood narrowed and smoothed at their lower edge, and pierced with hQles through which were threaded strings of raw-hide. These queer looking affairs had been made by the boy Hans. His mother was a poor peasant-woman, too poor to even think of such a thing as buying skates for her little ones. Rough as these were, they had afforded the children many a happy horn* upon the ice; and now as with cold, red fingers otu" young Hollanders tugged at the strings — ^their solemn faces bending closely over their knees — ^no vision of impossible iron rvmners came to dull the satisfaction within. In a moment the boy arose, and with a pompous swing of the arms, and a careless "Come on, Gretel!" glided easily across the canal. "Ah, Hans," called hi^ sister plaintively, "this foot is not well yet. The strings hurt me on last Market day; and now I cannot bear them tied in the same place." "Tie them higher up, ^en" answered Hans, as without looking at her he performed a wonderful cat's-cradle step on the ice. "How can I? The string is too short." Giving ven*t to a good-natured Dutch whistle, the English of which was that girls =vfere troublesome creatures, he steered toward her. "You are foolilh to wear such shoes^ Gretel, wHen you have a stout leather pair. Yovu* wooden shoes would be better than these." "Why, Hans! Do you forget? The father threw my beau- tiful new shoes into the fire. Before I knew what he had done HANS AND GRETEL 11 Hiey were all curled up in the midst of the burning peat. I can skate with these, but not with my wooden ones. — ^Be careful now — " Hans had taken a string from his pocket. Humming a tune as he knelt beside her, he proceeded to fasten Gretel's skate with all the force of his strong young arm. "Oh! oh!" she cried, in real pain With an impatient jerk Hans unwound the string. He would have cast it upon the ground in true big-brother style, had he not just then spied a tear trickling down his sister's cheek. "I'U fix it — ^never fear," he said, with sudden tenderness, "but we must be quick; the mother wiU need us soon." Then he glanced inquiringly about him, first at the ground, next at some bare willow branches above his head, and finally at the sky now gorgeous with streaks of blue, crimson and gold. Finding nothing in any of these localities to meet his need, his eye suddenly brightened as, with the air of a fellow who knew what he was about, he took off his cap and, removing the tattered lining, adjusted it in a smooth pad over the top of Gretel's worn-out shoe. "Now," he cried, triimiphantly, at the same time arranging the strings as briskly as his benumbed fingers would allow, "can you bear some pulling?" Gretel drew up her lips as if to say, "Hurt away," but made no further response. In another moment they were laughing together, as hand in hand they flew along the canal, never thinking whether the ice would bear or not, for in Holland ice is generally an all- winter affair. 12 HANS BRINKBR Presently, squeak! squeak! sounded sonaetlimg beneath Hans* feet. Next his strokes grew shorter, raiding oft-tiines with a jerk, and finally he lay sprawling upon the ice, kiddng against the air with many a fantastic flowrish. "Ha! ha!" laughed Gretel, "that was a firie tumhle!*' But a tender heart was beating under iier coarse blue jacket and, even as she laughed, she came, with a graoefui sweep, close to her prostrate brother. "Are you hurt, Hans? Oh, you are laughing! Catcii me now!" — ^and she darted away, shivering no loAger, but wUh. cheeks all aglow and eyes sparkling with fun. Hans sprang to his feet and started in brisk pursuit, but it was no easy thing to catch Gretel. Before she Md traveled very far, her skates, too, began to squeak. Believing that discretion was the better part of valor, she turned suddenly and skated into her pursuer's arms. "Ha! ha! I've caught you!" cried Han "Ha! ha! I caught yout" she retorted, struggling to free herself. Just then a clear, quick voice was heard calling, "Hans! Gretel!" "It's the mother," said Hans, looking solemn in an instant. By this time the canal was gilded with sunlighL The pure morning air was very delightful and skaters were gradually increasing in nimibers. It was hard to obey the svmmaons. But Hans and Gretel were good children; without a thought of yielding to the temptation to linger, they pulkd off their skates, leaving half the knots still tied. Hans, with his great square slionlders and bushy yellow hair, towered high above his bine- eyed little sister, as they trudged homeward. He was fiftem HANS AND GRBTEL 13 years old and Gretel was only twelve. He was a solid, hearty- lookmg boy, with honest eyes. Gretel was lithe and quick; her eyes had a dancing light in them, and whUe you looked, at her dieek the color paled and deepened just as it does upon a bed of pink and white blossoms when the wind is blowing. As soon as the children turned from the canal they could see their parents' cottage. Their mother's tall form, arrayed bx jacket and petticoat and close-fitting cap, stood, like a picture, in the crooked frame of the doorway. Had the cottage been a, mile away, it would still have seemed near. In that iflat coun- try every object stands out plainly in the distance; the chickens show as distinctly as the windmills. Indeed, were it not for the dykes and the high banks of the canals, one could stand almost anywhere in middle Holland without seeing a mound or a ridge between the eye and the "jumping-oflp place." None had better cause to know the nature of these samcs dykes than Dame Brinker, because her husband had worked on them for years. It was at the time of a threatened inun- dation, when in the midst of a terrible storm, in darkness and sleet, the men were laboring at a weak spot near the Veermyk sluice, that he fell from the scaffolding aud was taken home insensible. From that hour he never worked again ; though he lived on, mind and memory were gone. Gretel could not remember him otherwise than as the strange, silent man, whose eyes followed her vacantly whichever way she turned; but Hans had recollections of a hearty, cheer- ful-voiced father who was never tired of bearing him upon his shoulder, and whose careless song still seemed ibchoing near when he lay awake at night and listened. "DON'T YOU HEAR THE LAST BELL? CATPH ME!'? II THE SILYER SKATES DAME BRINKER earned a scanty support for her family by raising vegetables, spinning and knitting. Once she had worked on board the barges plying up and doAvn the canal, and had occasionally been harnessed with other women to the tow- ing rope of a water dray plying between Broek and Amster- dam. But when Hans had grown strong and large, he had insisted upon doing all such drudgery in her place. Besides, her husband had become so very helpless of late that he required her constant care. Although not having as much intelhgence as a little child, he was yet strong of arm and very hearty, and Dame Brinker had sometimes great trouble in controlling him. "Ah! children, he was so good and steady," she would some- times say, "and as wise as a lawyer. Even the Burgomaster would stop to ask him a question, and now, alack! he don't know his wife and little ones. You remember the father, Hans, when he was himself — a great, brave man — don't you?" "Yes, indeed, mother ; he knew everything and could do any- thing under the sun — and how he would sing! Why, you used to laugh and say it was enough to set the windmills dancing." "So I did. Bless me! how the boy remembers! Gretel, child, take that knitting needle from your father, quick; he'll get it in his eyes maybe; and put the shoe on him. His poor IS 16 HANS BRINKER feet are like ice half the time, but I can't keep 'em covered all I can do — " and then, half wailing, half humming. Dame Brinker would sit down and fill the low cottage with the whirr of her spinning wheel. Nearly aU the outdoor work, as well as the household labor, was performed by Hans and Gretel. At certain seasons of the year the children went out day after day to gather peat, which they would stow away in square, brick-like pieces, for fuel. At other times, when home-work permitted, Hans rode the towing- horses on the canals, earning a few cents a day; and Gretel tended the geese for the neighboring farmers. Hans was clever at carving in wood, and both he and Gretel were good gardeners. Gretel could sing and sew and run on great, high, home-made stilts better than any girl for miles around. She could learn a ballad in five minutes, and find, in its season, any weed or flower you could name; but she dreaded books, and often the very sight of the figuring-board in the old school-house would set her eyes swimming. Hans, on the con- trary, was slow and steady. The harder the task, whether in study or daily labor, the better he liked it. Boys who sneered at him out of school, on account of his patched clothes and scant leather breeches, were forced to yield him the post of honor in nearly every class. It was not long before he was the only youngster in the school who had not stood at least once in the corner of horrors, where hung a dreaded whip, and over it this motto: "Learn, learn! you idler, or this rope's end shall teach you." It was only in winter that Gretel and Hans could be spared to attend school; and for the past month they had been kept at home because their mother needed their services. Raflf Brinker required constant attention and there was black bread to be THE SILVER SKATES 17 made, and the house to be kept clean, and stockings and other things to be knitted and sold in the market place. While they were busily assisting their mother on this cold December morning, a merry troop of girls and boys came skim- ming down the canal. There were fine skaters among them, and as the bright medley of costumes flitted by it looked from a distance as though the ice had suddenly thawed and some gay tulip-bed were floating along on the current. There was the rich Burgomaster's daughter, Hilda van deck, with her costly furs and loose-fitting velvet sacque ; and, near by, a pretty peasant girl, Annie Bouman, jauntily attired in a coarse scarlet jacket and a blue skirt just short enough to display the gray homespun hose to advantage. Then there was the proud Rychie van Korbes, whose father. Mynheer van Kor- bes, was one of the leading men of Amsterdam; and, flocking closely around her, Carl Schummel, Peter and Ludwig van Holp, Jacob Poot, and a very small boy rejoicing in the tre- mendous name of Voostenwalbert Schimmelpenninck. There were nearly twenty other boys and girls in the party, and one and all seemed full of excitement and frolic. Suddenly the whole party came to a standstill and, group- ing themselves out of the way of the passers-by, all talked at once to a pretty little maiden, whom they had drawn from the tide of people flovidng toward the town. "Oh, Katrinka!" they cried, in a breath, "have you heard of it? The race — we want you to join!" "What race?" asked Katrinka, laughing. "Don't all talk at once, please; I can't understand." Every one panted and looked at Rychie van Korbes, who was their acknowledged spokeswoman. "Why," said Rychie, "we are to have a grand skating match 18 HANS BRINKER on the twentieth, on Mevrouw van deck's birthday. It's all Hilda's work. They are going to give a splendid prize to the best skater." "Yes," chimed in a half-a-dozen voices, "a beautiful pair of silver skates — perfectly magnificent! with, oh! such straps and silver bells and buckles!" "Who said they had bells?" put in the small voice of the boy with the big name. "7 say so. Master Voost," replied Rychie. "So they have—" "No, I'm sure they haven't—" "Oh, how can you say so? — " "It's an arrow — " "and Mynheer van Korbes told my mother they had bells — " came from sundry of the excited group; but Mynheer Voostenwalbert Schimmelpen- ninck essayed to settle the matter with a decisive — "Well, you don't any of you know a single thing about it; they haven't a sign of a bell on them; they — " "Oh! oh!" and the chorus of conflicting opinion broke forth again. "The girls' pair are to have bells," interposed Hilda, quietly, "but there is to be another pair for the boys with an arrow engraved upon the sides." "There! I told you so!" cried nearly all the youngsters in a breath. Katrinka looked at them with bewildered eyes. "Who is to try?" she asked. "All of us," answered Rychie. "It will be such fun! And you must, too, Katrinka. But it's school time now; we wiU talk it all over at noon. Oh! you will join, of course." Katrinka, without replying, made a graceful pirouette, and, laughing out a coquettish — "Don't you hear the last bell? Catch THE SILVER SKATES 19 me !"—■ darted off toward the school-house, standing half a mile away, on the canal. All started, peU-meU, at this challenge, but they tried in vain to catch the bright-eyed, laughing creature who, with golden hair streaming in the sunlight, cast back many a sparkling glance of triumph as she floated onward. Beautiful Katrinka! Flushed with youth and health, all life and mirth and motion, what wonder thine image, ever float- ing in advance, sped through one boy's dreams that night ! What wonder that it seemed his darkest hour when, years afterward, thy presence floated away from him forever. Ill HANS AND GRETEL FIND A FRIEND 7¥"T noon our young friends poured forth from the school-house Xa intent upon having an hour's practicing upon the canal They had skated but a few moments when Carl Schununel said mockingly to Hilda: "There's a pretty pair just coming upon the ice! The little rag-pickers! Their skates must have been a present from the king direct." "They are patient creatures," said Hilda, gently. "It must have been hard to learn to skate upon such queer affairs. They are very poor peasants, you see. The boy has probably made the skates himself." Carl was somewhat abashed. "Patient they may be, but as for skating, they start off pretty well only to finish with a jerk. They could move well lo yoiu- new staccato piece, I think." Hilda laughed pleasantly and left him. After joining a small detachment of the racers, and sailing past every one of them, she halted beside Gretel, who, with eager eyes, had been watching the sport. "What is youi name, little girl?" "Gretel, my lady," answered the child, somewhat awed by Hilda's rank, though they were nearly of the same age, "and my brother is called Hans." 20 HANS AND GRETEL FIND A FRIEND 21 "Hans is a stout fellow," said Hilda, cheerily, "and seems to have a warm stove somewhere within him, but you look cold. You should wear more clothing, little one." Gretel, who had nothing else to wear, tried to laugh as she answered: "I am not so very little. I am past twelve years old." "Oh, I beg your pardon. You see, I am nearly fourteen, and so large for my age that other girls seem small to me, but that is nothing. Perhaps you will shoot up far above me yet; not unless you dress more warmly, though — shivering girls never grow." Hans flushed as he saw tears rising in Gretel's eyes. "My sister has not complained of the cold ; but this is bitter weather, they say — " and he looked sadly upon Gretel. "It is nothing," said Gretel. "I am often warm — ^too warm when I am skating. You are good to think of it." "No, no," answered Hilda, quite angry at herself. "I am careless, cruel, but I meant no harm. I wanted to ask you — I mean — if — " and here Hilda, coming to the point of her errand, faltered before the poorly clad but noble-looking children she wished to serve. "What is it, young lady?" exclaimed Hans eagerly. "If there is any service I can do? any — " "Oh I no, no," laughed Hilda, shaking off her embarrass- ment, "I only wished to speak to you about the grand race. Why do you not join it? You both can skate well, and the ranks are free. Any one may enter for the prize." Gretel looked wistfully at Hans, who, tugging at his cap, answered respectfully: "Ah, jufvrouw, even if we could enter, we could skarbe only 22 HANS BRINKER a few strokes with the rest. Our skates are hardwood, you see" (holding up the sole of his foot), "but they soon become damp and then they stick and trip us." Gretel's eyes twinkled with fun as she thought of Hans' mishap in the morning, but she blushed as she faltered out timidly: "Oh, no, we can't join; but may we be there, my lady, on the great day, to look on?" "Certainly," answered Hilda, looking kindly into the two earnest faces and wishing from her heart that she had not spent so much of her monthly allowance for lace and finery. She had but eighty cents left, and that would buy but one pair of skates, at the ftu-thest. Looking down with a sigh at the two pair of feet so very different in size, she asked: "Which of you-is the better skater?" "Gretel," replied Hans, promptly. "Hans," answered Gretel, in the same breath. Hilda smiled. "I cannot buy you each a pair of skates, or even one good pair; but here is eighty cents. Decide between you which stands the best chance of winning the race, and buy the skates accordingly. I wish I had enough to buy better ones — ^good- bye!" and, with a nod and a smile, Hilda, after handing the money to the electrified Hans, ghded swiftly away to rejoin her companions. "Jufvrouw! Jufvrouw van Gleck!" called Hans in a loud tone, stumbling after her as well as he could, for one of his skate-strings was imtied. Hilda turned and, with one hand raised to shield her eyes HANS AKD GRETEL FIND A FRIEND 23 from the sun, seemed to him to be floating through the air, nearer and nearer. "We cannot take this money," panted Hans, "though we know yovu* goodness in giving it." "Why not, indeed?" asked Hilda, flushing. "Because," replied Hans, bowing like a clown, but looking with the eye of a prince at the queenly girl, "we have not earned it." Hilda was quick-witted. She had noticed a pretty wooden chain upon Gretel's neck — "Carve me a chain, Hans, hke the one your sister wears." "That I will, lady, with all my heart; we have white- wood in the house, fine as ivory; you shall have one tomorrow," and Hans hastily tried to return the money. "No, no," said Hilda, decidedly. "That sum will be but a poor price for the chain," and off she darted, outstripping the fleetest among the skaters. Hans sent a long, bewildered gaze after her ; it was useless, he felt, to make any further resistance. "It is right," he muttered, half to himself, half to his faith- ful shadow, Gretel; "I must work hard every minute, and sit up half the night, if the mother will let me burn a candle; but the chain shall be finished. We may keep the money, . Gretel." "What a good little lady!" cried Gretel, clapping her hands with delight; "Oh! Hans, was it for nothing the stork settled on our roof last simimer? Do you remember how the mother said it would bring us luck, and how she cried when Janzoon Kolp shot him? And she said it would bring him trouble. But the luck has come to us at last! Now, Hans, if mother sends us to town tomorrow you can buy the skates in the market place." 24 HANS BllINKER Hans shook his head. "The young lady would have given us the money to buy skates, but if I earn it, Gretel, it shall be spent for wool. You must have a warm jacket." "Oh!" cried Gretel, in real dismay, "not buy the skates! Why, I am not often cold 1 Mother says the blood runs up and down in poor children's veins, humming 'I must keep 'em warm! I must keep 'em warm.' "Oh, Hans," she continued, with something like a sob, "don't say you won't buy the skates, it makes me feel just like crying — ^besides, I want to be cold — I mean I'm real, awful warm — so now!" Hans looked up hurriedly. He had a true Dutch horror of tears, or emotion of any kind, and, most of all, he dreaded to see his sister's blue eyes overflowing. "Now mind," cried Gretel, seeing her advantage, "I'll feel awful if you give up the skates. I don't want them. I'm not such a stingy as that; but I want you to have them, and then when I get bigger they'll do for me — oh-h — count the pieces, Hans. Did ever you see so many!" Hans turned the money thoughtfully in his palm. Never in all his hfe had he longed so intensely for a pair of skates, for he had known of the race and had, boy-hke, fairly ached for a chance to test his powers with the other children. He felt confident that with a good pair of steel rimners he could easily distance most of the boys on the canal. Then, too, Gretel's argument was so plausible. On the other hand, he knew that she, with her strong but lithe little frame, needed but a week's practice on good runners, to make her a better skater than Rychie van Korbes or even Katrinka Flack. As soon as this last iliought flashed upon him his resolve was made. If Gretel would not have the jacket, she should have the skates. "No, Gretel," he answered at last, "I can wait. Some day HANS ANT> GRETEL FIND A FRIEND 25 I may have money enough saved to buy a fine pair. You shall have these." Gretel's eyes sparkled, but in another instant she insisted, rather faintly: "The yoimg lady gave the money to you, Hans. I'd be real bad to take it." Hans shook his head, resolutely, as he trudged on, causing his sister to half skip and half walk in her effort to keep beside him. By this time they had taken off their wooden "rockers" and were hastening home to tell their mother the good news. "Oh! / know!" cried Gretel, in a sprightly tone. "You can do this. You can get a pair a little too small for you and too big for me, and we can take turns and use them. Won't that be fine?" and Gretel clapped her hands again. Poor Hans! This was a strong temptation, but he pushed it away from him, brave-hearted fellow that he was. "Nonsense, Gretel. You could never get on with a big pail'. You stixmbled about with these, like a blind chicken, before I curved off the ends. No, you must have a pair to fit exactly, and you must practice every chance you can get, imtil the twentieth comes. My httle Gretel shall win the silver skates." Gretel could not help laughing with delight at the very idea. "Hans! Gretel!" called out a familiar voice. "Coming, mother!" and they hastened toward the cottage. Hans still shaking the pieces of silver in his hand. On the following day there was not a prouder nor a hap- pier boy in all Holland than Hans Brinker, as he watched his sister, with many a dexterous sweep, flying in and out among the skaters who at sundown thronged the canal. A warm jacket 26 HANS BMNKER had been given her by the kind-hearted Hilda, and the burst- out shoes had been cobbled into decency by Dame Brinker. As the httle creature darted backward and forward, flushed with enjoyment, and quite unconscious of the many wondering glances bent upon her, she felt that the shining runners beneath her feet had suddenly turned earth into Fairyland, while "Hans, dear, good Hans!" echoed itself over and over again in her grateful heart. "By den donder!" exclaimed Peter van Holp to Carl Schummel, "but that little one in the red jacket and patched petticoat skates well. Gunst ! she has toes on her heels and eyes in the back of her head! See her! It will be a joke if she gets in the race and beats Katrinka Flack, after all." "Hush! not so loud!" returned Carl, rather sneeringly. "That httle lady in rags is the special pet of Hilda van Gleck. Those shining skates are her gift, if I make no mistake." "So! so!" exclaimed Peter, with a radiant smile, for Hilda was his best friend. "She has been at her good work there, too!" And Mynheer van Holp, after cutting a double 8 on the ice, to say nothing of a huge P, then a jtimp, and an H, glided onward until he found himself beside Hilda. Hand in hand they skated together, laughingly at first, then staidly talking in a low tone. Strange to say, Peter van Holp soon arrived at a sudden conviction that his little sister needed a wooden chain just hke Hilda's. Two days afterward, on St. Nicholas' Eve, Hans, having burned three candle-ends, and cut his thtjmb into the bargain, stood in the market place at Amsterdam, buying another pair of skates. IV SHADOWS IN THE HOME GOOD Dame Brinker! As soon as the scanty dinner had been cleared away that noon, she had arrayed herself in her holi- day attire, in honor of Saint Nicholas. "It will brighten the children," she thought to herself, and she was not mistaken. This festival dress had been worn very seldom during the past ten years; before that time 'it had done good service, and had flourished at many a dance and Kermis, when she was known far and wide, as the pretty Meitje Klenck. The knitted woolen mitts, and the dainty cap showing her hair, which generally was hidden, made her seem almost like a princess to Gretel, while Master Hans grew staid and weU-behaved as he gazed. "Oh, mother, mother, mother, how pretty you are! Look, Hans! Isn't it just like a picture?" 27 28 HAl^S BRINKER "Just like a picture," assented Hans, cheerfully, "jvM like a picture — only I don't like those stocking things on the hands." "Not like the mitts, brother Hans! Why, they're very im- portant — see — ^they cover up all the red. Oh, mother, how white your arm is where the mitt leaves off, whiter than mine; oh, ever so much whiter. I declare, mother, the bodice is tight for you. You're growing! you're surely growing!" Dame Brinker laughed. "This was made long ago, lovey, when I wasn't much thicker about the waist than a chum-dasher. And how do you like the cap?" turning her head from side to side. "Oh, ever so much, mother. It's b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-1! See! the father is looking!" Was the father looking? Alas, only with a dull stare. His vrouw turned toward him with a start, something like a blush rising to her cheeks, a questioning sparkle in her eye. The Wight look died away in an instant. "'No, no," she sighed, "he sees nothing. Come, Hans" (and the smile crept faintly back again), "don't stand gaping at me all day, and the new skates waiting for you at Amsterdam." "Ah, mother," he answered, "you need many things. Why should I buy skates?" "Nonsense, child. The money was given to yoti on pur- pose, or the work was — ^it's all the same thing. Go, while the sun is high." "Yes, and hurry back, Hans!" laughed Gretel, "we'll race on the canal tonight, if the mother lets us." At the very threshold he turned to say — "Your spinning- wheel wants a new treadle, mother." "You can make it, Hans." "So I can. That will take no money. But you need feath- ers, and "wool and meal, and — '' SHADOWS IN THE HOME 29 "There, there! That will do. Your silver cannot buy every- thing. Ah! Hans, if our stolen money would but come back on this bright Saint Nicholas' Eve, how glad we would be! Only last night I prayed to the good Saint — " "Mother!" interrupted Hans in dismay. "Why not, Hans ! Shame on you to reproach me for that ! I'm as true a Protestant, in sooth, as any fine lady that walks into church, but it's no wrong to turn sometimes to the good Saint Nicholas. Tut! It's a likely story if one can't do that, Avithout one's children flaring up at it — and he the boys' and girls' own saint — Hoot! mayhap the colt is a steadier horse than the mare?" Hans knew his mother too well to offer a word in opposi- tion, when her voice quickened and sharpened, as it did now (it was often sharp and quick when she spoke of the missing money), so he said gently: "And what did you ask of good Saint Nicholas, mother?" "Why, to never give the thieves a wink of sleep till they brought it back, to be sure, if he's power to do such things, or else to brighten our wits that we might find it ourselves. Not a sight have I had of it since the day before the dear father W£s hurt — as you well know, Hans." "That I do, mother," he answered sadly, "though you have almost pulled down the cottage in searching." "Aye; but it was of no use," moaned the dame. " 'Hiders make best finders.' " Hans started. "Do you think the father could tell aught?" he asked mysteriously. "Aye, indeed," said Dame Brinker, nodding her head, "I think so, but that is no sign. I never hold the same belief in the matter two days. Mayhap the father paid it off for the 30 HANS BRINKER great silver watch we have been guarding since that day. But, no — I'll never believe it." "The watch was not worth a quarter of the money, mother." "No, indeed; and your father was a shrewd man up to the last moment. He was too steady and thrifty for silly doings." "Where did the watch come from, I wonder?" muttered Hans, half to himself. Dame Brinker shook her head and looked sadly toward her husband, who sat staring blankly at the floor. Gretel stood near him, knitting. "That we shall never know, Hans. I have shown it to the father many a time, but he does not know it from a potato. When he came in that dreadful night to supper, he handed the watch to me and told me to take good care of it until he asked for it again. Just as he opened his hps to say more. Broom Klatterboost came flying in with word that the dyke was in danger. Ah! the waters were terrible that holy Pinxter-week! My man, alack ! caught up, his tools and ran out. That was the last I ever saw of him in his right mind. He was brought in again by midnight, nearly dead, with his poor head all bruised and cut. The fever passed off in time, but never the dullness — that grew worse every day. We shall never know." Hans had heard all this before. More than once he had seen his mother, in hours of sore need, take the watch from its hiding-place, half -resolved to sell it, but she had always con- quered the temptation. "No, Hans," she would say, "we must be nearer starving than this before we turn faithless to the father!" A memory of some such scene crossed her son's mind now; for, after giving a heavy sigh, and filliping a crumb of wax at Gretel across the table, he said: SHADOWS IN THE HOME 31 "Aye, mother, you have done bravely to keep it — ^many a one would have tossed it off for gold long ago." "And more shame for them I" exclaimed the dame, indig- nantly, "I would not do it. Besides, the gentry are so hard on us poor folks that if they saw such a thing in our hands, even if we told aU, they might suspect the father of — " Hans flushed angrily. "They would not dare to say such a thing, mother! If they did— I'd— " He clenched his fist and> seemed to think that the rest of his sentence was too terrible to utter in her presence. Dame Brinker smiled proudly through her tears at this interruption. "Ah, Hans, thou'rt a true, brave lad. We will never part company with the watch. In his dying hoiu- the dear father might wake and ask for it." "Might wake, mother !" echoed Hans, "wake — and know us ?" "Aye, child," almost whispered his mother, "such things have been." By this time Hans had nearly forgotten his proposed errand to Amsterdam. His mother^ had seldom spoken so familiarly with him.' He felt himself now to be not only her son, but her friend, her adviser. "You are right, mother. We must never give up the watch. For the father's sake, we will guard it always. The money, though, may come to light when we least expect it." "Never!" cried Dame Brinker, taking the last stitch from her needle with a jerk, and laying the imfinished knitting heav- ily upon her lap. "There is no chance! One thousand guilders I and all gone in a day! One thousand guilders — Oh! what ever did become of them? If they went in an evil way, the thief 32 HANS BRISKER would have confessed by this on his dying bed — ^he would not dare to die with such guilt on his soul!" "He may not be dead yet," said Hans, soothingly, "any day we may hear of him." "Ah, child," she said, in a changed tone, "what thief would ever have come here? It was always neat and clean, thank God! but not fine; for the father and I saved and saved that we might have something laid by. 'Little and often soon fills the pouch.' We found it so, in truth; besides, the father had a goodly sum, already, for service done to the Heernocht lands, at the time of the great inundation. Every week we had a guilder left over, sometimes more; for the father worked extra hours, and could get high pay for his labor. Every Saturday night we put some- thing by, except the time when you had the fever, Hans, and when Gretel came. At last the pouch grew so full that I mended an old stocking and commenced again. Now that I look back, it seems that the money was up to the heel in a few sunny weeks. There was great pay in those days if a man was quick at engi- neer work. The stocking went on filling with copper and silver — aye, and gold. You may well open your eyes, Gretel. I used to laugh and tell the father it was not for poverty I wore my old gown; — and the stocking went on filling — so full that some- times when I woke at night, I'd get up, soft and quiet, and go feel it in the moonlight. Then, on my knees, I would thanlc our Lord that my little ones could in time get good learning, and that the father might rest from labor in his old age. Sometimes, at supper, the father and I would talk about a new chimney and a good winter-room for the cow; but my man forsooth had finer plans even than that. -'A big sail,' says he, 'catches the wind — ^we can do what we will soon,' and then we would sing together as I washed my dishes. Ah, 'a smooth sea makes an easy rudder,' — ^not a thing vexed me from morning till night. SHADOWS IN THE HOME 33 Every week the father would take out the stocking and drop in the money, and laugh and kiss me as we tied it up together. Up with you, Hans! there you sit gaping and the day a- wasting!" added Dame Brinker tartly, blushing to find that she had been speaking too freely to her boy, "it's high time you were on your way." Hans had seated himself and was looking earnestly into her face. He arose and, in almost a whisper, asked: "Have you ever tried, mother?" She imderstood him. "Yes, child, often. But the father only laughs, or he stares at me so strange I am glad to ask no more. When you and Gretel had the fever last winter and our bread was nearly gone,, and I could earn nothing, for fear you would die while my face was turned, oh! I tried then! I smoothed his hair, and whispered to him soft as a kitten, about the money — where it was — who had it? Alack! he would pick at my sleeve, and whisper gibber- ish till my blood ran cold. At last, while Gretel lay wliiter than snow, and you were raving on the bed, I screamed to him — ^it seemed as if he mttst hear me — 'Raff, where is our money? Do you know aught of the money, Raif ? — ^the money in the pouch and the stocking, in the big chest?' — ^but I might as well have talked to a stone — I might as — " The mother's voice sounded so strangely, and her eye was so bright, that Hans, with a new anxiety, laid his hand upon her shoulder. "Come, mother," he said, "let us try to forget this money. I am big and strong — Gretel, too, is very quick and willing. Soon all will be prosperous with us again. Why, mother, Gretel and I would rather see thee bright and happy, than to have all the silver in the world — ^wouldn't we, Gretel?" "The mother knows it," said Gretel, sobbing. SUNBEAMS DAME BRINKER was startled at her children s emotion; glad, too, for it proved how loving and true thej: were. Beautiful ladies, in princely homes, often smile suddenly and sweetly, gladdening the very air around them ; but I doubt if their smile be more welcome in God's sight than that which sprang forth to cheer the roughly clad boy and girl in the humble cottage. Dame Brinker felt that she had been selfish. Blushing and brightening, she hastily wiped her eyes, and looked upon them as only a mother can. "Hoity! toityl Pretty talk we're having, and Sairt Nich- olas' Eve almost here ! What wonder the yarn pricks my fingers ! Come, Gretel, take this money, and while Hans is trading for the skates you can buy a wafile in the market place." "Let me stay home with you, mother," said Gretel, looking up with eyes that sparkled through their tears. "Hans will buy me the cake." "As you will, child, and Hans — wait a moment. Three turns of the needle will finish this toe, and then you may have as good a pair of hose as ever were knitted (owning the yarn is a grain too sharp), to sell to the hosier on the Heireen Gracht. That will give us three quarter-guilders if you make good trade; And as it's right hungry weather, you may buy four wafHes. We'll keep the Feast of Saint Nicholas after all." 34 SUNBEAMS 35 Gretel clapped her hands. "That will be fine! Annie Bou- man told me what grand times they will have in the big houses tonight. But we will be merry, too. Hans will have beautiful new skates — and then there'll be the wafiles ! Oh-h! Don't break them, brother Hans. Wrap them well, and button them under your jacket very carefully." "Certainly," replied Hans, quite gruff with pleasure and importance," "Oh! mother!" cried Gretel, in high glee, "soon you will be busied with the father, and now you are only knitting. Do tell us all about Saint Nicholas!" Dame Brinker laughed to see Hans hang up his hat and prepare to listen. "Nonsense, children," she said, "I have told it to you often." "Tell us again! oh, do tell us again!" cried Gretel, throw- ing herself upon the wonderful wooden bench that her brother had made on the mother's last birthday. Hans, not wishing to appear childish, and yet quite willing to hear the story, stood carelessly swinging his skates against the fireplace. "Well, children, you shall hear it, but we must never waste the daylight again in this way. Pick up your ball, Gretel, and let your sock grow as I talk. Opening your ears needn't shut your fingers. Saint Nicholas, you must know, is a won- derful saint. He keeps his eye open for the good of sailors, but he cares most of all for boys and girls. Well, once upon a time, when he was living on the earth, a merchant of Asia sent his three sons to a great city, called Athens, to get learning." "Is Athens in Holland, mother?" asked Gretel. "I don't know, child. Probably it is.' "Oh, no, mother," said Hans, respectfully. "I had that in my geography lessons long ago. Athens is in Greece." 36 HANS BRINKER "Well," resumed the mother, "what matter? Greece may- belong to the King, for aught we know. Anyhow, this rich merchant sent his sons to Athens. While they were on their way they stopped one night at a shabby inn, meaning to take up their journey in the morning. Well, they had very fine clothes — ^velvet and silk, it may be, such as rich folks' children, all over the world, think nothing of wearing — ^and their belts, likewise, were full of money. What did the wicked landlord do, but contrive a plan to kiU the children, and take their money and all their beautiful clothes himself. So that night, when all the world was asleep, he got up and killed the three young gentlemen." Gretel clasped her hands and shuddered, but Hans tried to look as if killing and murder were every-day matters to him. "That was not the worst of it," continued Dame Brinker, knitting slowly and trying to keep count of her stitches as she talked, "that was not near the worst of it. The dreadful land- lord went and cut up the young gentlemen's bodies into little pieces and threw them into a great tub of brine, intending to sell them for pickled pork!" "Oh I" cried Gretel, horror-stricken, though she had often heard the story before. Hans stiU continued unmoved and seemed to think that pickling was the best that could be done under the circumstances. "Yes, he pickled them, and one might think that would have been the last of the yoxuig gentlemen. But no. That night Saint Nicholas had a wonderful vision, and in it he saw the landlord cutting up the merchant's children. There was no need of his hiu"rying, you know, for he was a saint; but in the morning he went to the inn and charged the landlord with the murder. Then the wicked landlord confessed it from begin- ning to end and fell down on his knees, begging forgiveness. SUNBEAMS 37 He felt so sorry for what he had done that he asked the saint to bring the young masters to life." "And did the saint do it?" asked Gretel, dehghted, well knowing what the answer would be. "Of course he did. The pickled pieces flew together in an instant, and out jumped the young gentlemen from the brine- tub. They cast themselves at the feet of Saint Nicholas and he gave them his blessing, and — ohl mercy on us, Hans, it will be dark before you get back if you don't start this minute!" By this time Dame Brinker was almost out of breath and quite out of commas. She could not remember when she had seen the children idle away an hour of daylight in this manner, and the thought of such luxury quite appalled her. By way of compensation she now flew about the room in extreme haste. Tossing a block of peat upon the fire, blowing invisible dust from the table, and handing the finished hose to Hans, all in an instant — "Come, Hans," she said, as her boy hngered by the door, "what keeps thee?" Hans kissed his mother's plump cheek, rosy and fresh yet, in spite of all her troubles — "my mother is the best in the world, and I would be right glad to have a pair of skates, but" — and, as he buttoned his jacket, he looked, in a troubled way, toward a strange figure crouching by the hearthstone — "if my money would bring a meester* from Amsterdam to see the father, something might yet be done." "A meester would not come, Hans, for twice that money; and it would do no good if he did. AJx! how many guilders I once spent for that ; but the dear, good father would not waken. It is God's will. Go, Hans, and buy the skates." * Doctor (dokter in Dutch) called meester by the lower class. 38 HANS BRINKER Hans started with a heavy heart, but since the heart was young, and in the boy's bosom, it set him whistling in less than five minutes. His mother had said "thee" to him, and that was quite enough to make even a dark day sunny. Hollanders do not address each other in affectionate intercourse, as the French and Germans do. But Dame Brinker had embroidered for a Heidelberg family in her girlhood, and she had carried its "thee" and "thou" into her rude home, to be used in moments of extreme love and tenderness. Therefore, "What keeps thee, Hans?" sang an echo song beneath the boy's whistling and made him feel that his errand was blest. VI HANS HAS HIS WAY BROEK, with its quiet, spotless streets, its frozen rivulets, its yellow brick pavements, and bright v/ooden houses, was near by. It was a village where neatness and show were in full blossom; but the inhabitants seemed to be either asleep or dead. Not a footprint marred the sanded paths, where pebbles and seasheUs lay in fanciful designs. Every window shutter was closed as tightly as though air and sunshine were poison; and the massive front doors were never opened except on the occasion of a wedding, christening, or a funeral. Hans glanced toward the village, as he shook his silver pieces, and wondered whether it were really true, as he had often heard, that some of the people of Broek were so rich that they used kitchen utensUs of solid gold. He had seen Mevrouw van Stoop's cheeses in market, and he knew that the lofty dame earned many a bright silver guilder in selling them. But did she set the cream to rise in golden pans? Did she use a golden skimmer? When her cows were in winter quarters, were their tails really tied up with ribbons? These thoughts ran through his mind as he turned his 39 40 HANS BRINKER face toward Amsterdam, not five miles away, on the other side of the frozen Y. The ice upon the canal was perfect, but his wooden runners, so soon to be cast aside, squeaked a dismal farewell, as he scraped and skimmed along. When crossing the Y, whom should he see skating toward him but the great Dr. Boekman, the most famous physician and surgeon in Holland. Hans had never met him before, but he had seen his engraved hkeness in many of the shop win- dows in Amsterdam. It was a face that one could never for- get. Thin and lank, though a born Dutchman, with stern blue eyes, and queer, compressed lips, that seemed to say, "No smiling permitted," he certainly was not a very joUy or sociable looking personage, nor one that a well-trained boy would care to accost unbidden. But Hans was bidden, and that, too, by a voice he seldom disregarded — ^his own conscience. "Here comes the greatest doctor in the world," whispered the voice, "God has sent him; you have no right to buy skates when you might, with the same money, pvirchase such aid for your father!" The wooden runners gave an exultant squeak. Hundreds of beautiful skates were gleaming and vanishing in the air above him. He felt the money tingle in his fingers. The old doctor looked fearfully grim and forbidding. Hans' heart was in his throat, but he found voice enough to cry out, just as he was passing: "Mynheer Boekman!" The great man halted and, sticking out his thin under lip, looked scowlingly about him. Hans was in for it now. "Mynheer," he panted, drawing close to the fierce-looking HANS HAS HIS WAY 41 doctor, "I knew you could be none other than the famous Boekman. I have to ask a great favor — " "Humph!" muttered the doctor, preparing to skate past the intruder — "Get out of the way — I've no money — ^never give to beggars." "I am no beggar, Mynheer," retorted Hans proudly, at the same time producing his mite of silver with a grand air, "I wish to consult with you about my father. He is a living man, but sits like one dead. He cannot think. His words mean nothing — ^but he is not sick. He fell on the dykes." "Hey? what?" cried the doctor, beginning to listen. Hans told the whole story in an incoherent way, dashing off a tear once or twice as he talked, and finally ending with an earnest, "Oh, do see him, Mynheer. His body is well^-it is only his mind — I know this money is not enough; but take it. Myn- heer, I will earn more — I know I wiU — Oh! I will toil for you all my life, if you will but cure my father!" What was the matter with the old doctor? A brightness like sunlight beamed from his face. His eyes were kind and moist; the hand that had lately clutched his cane as if pre- paring to strike, was laid gently upon Hans' shoulder. "Put up your money, boy, I do not want it — ^we will see your father. It is a hopeless case, I fear. How long did you say?" "Ten years. Mynheer," sobbed Hans, radiant with sud- den hope. "Ah! a bad case; but I shall see him. Let me think. To- day I start for Leyden, to return in a week, then you may expect me. Where is it?" "A mile south of Broek, Mynheer, near the canal. It is 42 HANS BRISKER only a poor, broken-down hut. Any of the children thereabout can point it out to your honor," added Hans, with a heavy sigh; "they are all half afraid of the place; they call it the idiot's cottage." "That wiU do," said the doctor, hurrying on, with a bright backward nod at Hans, "I shall be there. A hopeless case," he muttered to himself, "but the boy pleases me. His eye is like my poor Laurens'. Confound it, shall I never forget that young scoundrel!" and, scowling more darkly than ever, the doctor piu'sued his silent way. Again Hans was skating toward Amsterdam on the squeak- ing wooden rimners ; again his fingers tingled against the money in his pocket; again the boyish whistle rose imconsciously to his lips: "Shall I hurry home," he was thinking, "to tell the good news, or shall I get the waffles and the new skates first? Whew I I think I'll go on!" And so Hans bought the skates. VII INTEODUCING JACOB FOOT AND HIS COTTSIN HANS and Gretel had a fine frolic early on that Saint Nicholas' Eve. There was a bright moon, and their mother, though she believed herself to be without any hope of her husband's improvement, had been made so happy at the prospect of the meester's visit that she had yielded to the chil- dren's entreaties for an hour's skating before bedtime. Hans was delighted with his new skates, and in his eager- ness to show Gretel how perfectly they "worked," did many things upon the ice that caused the little maid to clasp her hands in solemn admiration. They were not alone, though they seemed quite imheeded by the various groups assembled upon the canal. The two Van Holps and Carl Schummel were there, test- ing their fleetness to the utmost. Out of four trials Peter van Holp had beaten three times. Consequently Carl, never very amiable, was in anything but a good himior. He had relieved himself by taunting yoimg Schimmelpenninck, who, being smaller than the others, kept' meekly near them, without feel- ing exactly like one of the party; but now a new thought seized Carl, or rather he seized the new thought and made an onset upon his friends. "I say, boys, let's put a stop to those yoimg rag-pickers from the idiot's cottage joining the race. Hilda must be crazy 43 44 HANS BRINKER to think of it, Katrinka Flack and Rychie van Korbes are furious at the very idea of racing with the girl ; and for my part, I don't blame them. As for the boy, if we've a spark of man- hood in us we will scorn the very idea of — " "Certainly we will!" interposed Peter van Holp, pur- posely mistaking Carl's meaning, "who doubts it? "No fellow with a spark of manhood in him would refuse to let in two good skaters just because they were poor!" Carl wheeled about savagely — "Not so fast, master! and I'd thank you not to put words in other people's mouths. You'd best not try it again," "Ha! ha!" laughed little Voostenwalbert Schimmelpen- ninck, delighted at the prospect of a fight, and sure that, if it should come to blows, his favorite, Peter, could beat a dozen excitable fellows like Carl. Something in Peter's eye made Carl glad to turn to a weaker offender. He wheeled furiously upon Voost. "What are you shrieking about, you little weasel! You skinny herring, you; you little monkey with a long name for a tail!" Half-a-dozen by-standers and by-skaters set up an ap- plauding shout at this brave witticism; and Carl, feeling that he had fairly vanquished his foes, was restored to partial good humor. He, however, prudently resolved to defer plotting against Hans and Gretel until some time when Peter should not be present. Just then his friend, Jacob Poot, was seen approaching. They could not distinguish his featvu-es at first; but as he was the stoutest boy in the neighborhood there could be no mis- taking his form. "Hello! here comes Fatty!" exclaimed Carl, "and there's some one with him, a slender fellow, a stranger," JACOB FOOT AND HIS COUSIN 45 "Ha! ha! that's like good bacon," cried Ludwig; "a streak of lean and a streak of fat." "That's Jacob's English cousin," put in Master Voosrt, dehghted at being able to give the information, "that's his Enghsh cousin, and, oh! he's got such a funny little name — Ben Dobbs. He's going to stay with him until after the grand race." AU this time the boys had been spinning, turning, "roll- ing," and doing other feats upon their skates, in a quiet way, as they talked; but now they stood still, bracing themselves against the frosty air as Jacob Foot and his friend drew near. "This is my cousin, boys," said Jacob, rather out of breath — "Benjamin Dobbs. He's a John BuU and he's going to be in the race." Master Dobbs felt at first very awkward among his cousin's friends. Though most of them had studied English and French, they were shy about attempting to speak either, and he made very fvmny blunders when he tried to converse in Dutch. However, the fun of skating ghdes over all barriers of speech. Through this, Ben soon felt that he knew the boys well, and when Jacob (with a sprinkling of French and Eng- lish Sot Ben's benefit), told of a grand project they had planned, his cousin could now and then put in a "ja," or a nod, in quite a familiar way. The project ivas a grand one and there was to be a fine opportunity for carrying it out; for, besides the allotted holi- day of the Festival of Saint Nicholas, four extra days were to be allowed for a general cleaning of the school-house. Jacob and Ben had obtained permission to go on a long skating journey — ^no less a one than from Broek to The Hague, the capital of Holland, a distance of nearly fifty miles! 46 HANS BRINKER "And now, boys," added Jacob, when he had told the plan, "who will go with us?" "I will! I will!" cried the boys eagerly. "And so will I!" ventured little Voostenwalbert. "Ha! ha!" laughed Jacob, holding his fat sides and shak- ing his puffy cheeks, "you go? Such a little fellow as you? Why, youngster, you haven't left off your pads yet!" Now in Holland very young children wear a thin, padded cushion around their heads, surmounted with a framework of whalebone and ribbon, to protect them in case of a fall; and it is the dividing line between babyhood and childhood when they leave it off. Voost had arrived at this dignity several years before, consequently Jacob's insult was rather too great for endurance. "Look out what you say!" he squeaked. "Lucky for you when you can leave off your pads — ^you're padded all over!" "Ha! ha!" roared all the boys except Master Dobbs, who could not imderstand. "Ha! ha I" — and the good-natured Jacob laughed more than any. "It ish my fat — he say I bees pad mit fat!" he explained to Ben. So a vote was passed unanimously in favor of allowing the now popular Voost to join the party, if his parents would consent. "Good-night!" sang out the happy youngster, skating homeward with all his might. "Good-night." "We can stop at Haarlem, Jacob, and show your cousin the big organ," said Peter van Holp, eagerly, "and at Leyden, too, where there's no end to the sights; and spend a day and night at The Hague, for my married sister, who lives there, JACOB FOOT AND HIS COUSIN 47 will be delighted to see us; and the next morning we can start foi home." "All right!" responded Jacob, who was net much of a talker. Ludwig had been regarding his brother with enthusiastic admiration. "Htu-rah for you, Pete! It takes you to make plans! Mother'll be as full of it as we are when we teU her we can take her love direct to sister Van Gend. My! but it's cold," he added, "cold enough to take a fellow's head off his shoul- ders. We'd better go home." "What if it is cold, old Tender-skin?" cried Carl, who was busily practicing a step which he called the "double edge." "Great skating we should have by this time, if it was as warm as it was last December, Don't you know, if it wasn't an extra cold winter, and an early one into the bargain, we coudn't go?" "I know it's an extra cold night, anyhow," said Ludwig. "Whew! I'm going home!" "Good-night!" cried one and all, and off they started, shouting, singing and laughing as they flew along. Where were Gretel and Hans? They had skated about an hour, keeping aloof from the others — quite contented with each other, and Gretel had ex- claimed, "Ah, Hans, how beautiful! how fine! To think that we both have skates! I tell you, the stork brought us good luck!" — ^when they heard something! It was a scream — a very faint scream! No one else upon the canal observed it, but Hans knew its meaning too well. Gretel saw him turn white in the moonlight as he hastily tore off his skates. "The father!" he cried, "he has frightened our mother!" and Gretel ran after him toward the house as rapidly as she could. VIII THE FESTIVAl, OF SAINT NICHOLAS WE all know how, before the Christinas tree began to flour- ish in the home-hfe of our country, a eertaia "right jolly- old elf," with "eight tiny reindeer," used to drive his sleigh-load of toys up to our house-tops and then bound down the chimney to fill the stockings so hopefully hung by the fireplace. His friends called him Santa Claus, and those who were most inti- mate ventured to say "Old Nick," It was said that he orig- inally came from Holland. Doubtless he did; but, if so, he certainly, like many other foreigners, changed his ways very much after landing upon our shores. In Holland, Saint Nich- olas is a veritable saint, and often appears in full costume, with his embroidered robes, glittering with gems and gold, his mitre, his crozier and his jeweled gloves. Here Santa Claus comes rollicking along, on the twenty-fifth of December, our holy Christmas morn. But in Holland, Saint Nicholas visits earth on the fifth, a time especially appropriated to him. Early on the morning of the sixth, he distributes his candies, toys and treasures, and vanishes for a year. Christmas day is devoted by the Hollanders to church rites and pleasant family visiting. It is on Saint Nicholas' Eve that their young people become half wild with joy and expec- tation. To some of them it is a sorry time, for the saint is very candid, and if any of them have been bad during the past 48 THE FESTIVAL OF ST. NICHOLAS 49 year, he is quite sure to tell them so. Sometimes he carries a birch rod under his arm and advises the parents to give them scoldings in place of confections and floggings instead of toys. It was well that the hoys hastened to their abodes on that bright winter evening, for in less than an hour afterwards the saint made his appearance in half the homes of Holland. Hilda van deck's httle brothers and sisters were in a high state of excitement that night. They had been admitted into the grand parlor; they were dressed in their best, and had been given two cakes apiece at supper. Hilda was as joyous as any. Wliy not? Saint Nicholas would never cross a girl of fourteen from his hst, just because she was tail and looked almost like a woman. On the contrary, he would prob- ably exert himself to do honor to such an august-looking damsel. Who could tell? So she sported and laughed and danced as gaUy as the youngest, and was the soul of all their merry games. At last matters grew so uproarious that Mynheer van Gleck regarded his children with astonishment. The baby even showed symptoms of hysterics. It was high time to attend to business. Madame suggested that if they wished to see the good Saint Nicholas they should sing the same loving invitation that had brought him the year before The baby stared and thrust his fist into his mouth as mynheer put him down upon the floor. Soon he sat erect and looked with a sweet scowl at the company. The other children, each holding a pretty wiUow basket, formed at once in a ring, and moved slowly around the little fellow, lifting their eyes, meanwhile, for the saint to whom they were about to address themselves was yet in mysterious quarters. Madame commenced playing softly upon the piano; soon the voices rose — ^gentle, youthful voices — ^rendered all the sweeter for their tremor: 50 HANS BRINKER "Welcome, friend! Saint Nicholas, welcome! Bring no rod for us, tonight! While our voices bid thee welcome. Every heart with joy is light! "Tell us every fault and failing. We will bear thy keenest railing. So we sing — so we sing — Will you bring us anything ? "Welcome, friend! Saint Nicholas, welcome! Welcome to this merry band! Happy children greet thee, welcome! Thou art glad'ning all the land! "Fill each empty hand and basket, 'Tis thy little ones who ask it. So we sing — so we sing — Thou wilt bring us everything!" During the chorus, sundry glances, half in eagerness, half in dread, had been cast towards the polished folding doors. Now a loud knocking was heard. The circle was broken in an in- stant. Some of the httle ones, with a strange mixture of fear and delight, pressed against their mother's knee. "Come in," said Madame, softly. The door slowly opened and Saint Nicholas, in full array, stood before them. You could have heard a pin drop! Soon he spoke. What a mysterious majesty in his voice I what kind- liness in his tones 1 "Karel van deck, I am pleasea to greet thee, and thy honored vrouw Kathrine, and thy son and his good vrouw Annie! "Children, I greet ye all! Hendrick, Hilda, Broom, Katy, Huygens, and Lucretia! And thy cousins, Wolfert, Diedrich, Mayken, Voost, and Katrina! Good children ye have been, in the main, a'ince I last accosted ye. Diedrich was rude at \he Haarlem fair last fall, but he has tried to atone for it ^ince. Mayken has failed of late in her lessons, and too many THE DOOR SLOWLY OPENED AND SAINT NICHOLAS, IN FULL ARRAY, STOOD BEFORE THEM. 52 MAJNS JtJJbtlJN KJbiK sweets and trifles have gone to her lips, and too few dimes to her charity-box. Diedrich, I trust, will be a polite, manly- boy for the future, and Mayken will endeavor to shine as a student. Let her remember, too, that economy and thrift are needed in the foundation of a worthy and generous life. Little Katy has been cruel to the cat more than once. Saint Nicholas can hear the cat cry when its tail is pulled. I will forgive her if she will remember from this hour that the smallest dumb creatures have feelings and must not be abused." As Katy burst into a frightened cry, the saint graciously remained silent until she was soothed. "Master Broom," he resumed, "I warn thee that boys who are in the habit of putting snuff upon the foot-stove of the schoolmistress may one day be discovered and receive a flogging—" [Master Broom colored and stared in great astonishment.] "But thou art such an excellent scholar, I shall make thee no further reproof. "Thou, Hendrick, didst distinguish thyseK in the archery match last spring and hit the bull's-eye, though the bird was swung before it to unsteady thine eye. I give thee ci'edit for excelling in manly sport and exercise — ^though I must not unduly countenance thy boat-racing, since it leaves thee too little time for thy proper studies. "Lucretia and Hilda shall have a blessed sleep tonight. The consciousness of kindness to the poor, devotion in their souls, and cheerful, hearty obedience to household rule will render them happy. "With one and all I avow myseK well content. Good- ness, industry, benevolence and thrift have prevailed in your midst. Therefore, my blessing upon you — and may the New Year find all treading the paths of obedience, wisdom and love. THE FESTIVAL OF ST. NICHOLAS 53 Tomorrow you shall find more substantial proofs that I have been in your midst. Farewell!" With these words came a great shower of sugar-plums, upon a linen sheet spread out in front of the doors. A general scramble followed. The children fairly timibled over each other in their eagerness to fill their baskets. Madame cau- tiously held the baby down in their midst, till the chubby little fists were filled. Then the bravest of the youngsters sprang up and burst open the closed doors — in vain they peered into the mysterious apartment — Saint Nicholas was nowhere to be seen. Soon there was a general rush to another room, where stood a table, covered with the finest and whitest of linen damask. Each child, in a flutter of excitement, laid a shoe upon it. The door was then carefully locked and its key hid- den in the mother's bedroom. Next followed good-night kisses, a grand family procession to the upper floor, merry farewells at bedroom doors — ^and silence, at last, reigned in the Van Gleck mansion Early the next morning the door was solemnly unlocked and opened in the presence of the assembled household, when, lo! a sight appeared proving Saint Nicholas to be a saint of his word! Every shoe was filled to overflowing and beside each stood many a colored pile. The table was heavy with its load of presents — ^^candies, toys, trinkets, books and other articles. Every one had gifts, from grandfather down to the baby. Little Katy clapped her hands with glee and vowed, in- wardly, that the eat should never know another moment's grief. 54 HANS BRISKER Hendrick capered about the room, flourishing a superb bow and arrows over his head. Hilda laughed with delight as she opened a crimson box and drew forth its glittering con- tents. The rest chuckled and said "Oh!" and "Ah I" over their treasures, very much as we did here in America on last Christ- mas day. With her glittering necldaee in her hands and a pile of books in her arms, HUda stole towards her parents and held up her beaming face for a kiss. There was such an earnest, tender look in her bright eyes that her mother breathed a bless- ing as she leaned over her. "I am delighted with this book, thank you, father," she said, touching the top one with her chin. "I shall read it all day long." Frolic and joy reigned supreme. A grand chorus of barking dogs, squeaking cats and bleating lambs, to say noth- ing of a noisy ivory cricket, that the baby was whirling with infinite delight, rose triumphant. Good Saint Nicholas! For the sake of the young Hol- landers, I, for one, am wilhng to acknowledge him, and defend his reality against all unbelievers. Carl Schummel was quite busy during that day, assuring little children confidentially, that not Saint Nicholas, but their own fathers and mothers had produced the oracle and loaded the tables. But we know better than that. And yet, if this were a saint, why did he not visit the Brinker cottage that nirrht? Why was that one home, so dark and sorrowful, pased by? '--.r--''^. IX WHAT THE BOYS SAW AND DID IN AJVISTEEDAM ** TTIIE we all here?" cried Peter, in high glee, as the party as- a\. sembled upon the canal early the next morning, equipped for their skating journey. "Let me see. As Jacob has made me captain, I must call the roll. Carl Schummel — . You here?" "Ya!" "Jacob Foot!" "Ya!" "Benjamin Dobbs!" "Ya-a!" "Lambeit van Mounen!" "Ya!" 5S 56 HANS BRINKER "[That's lucky. Couldn't get on without you, as you're the only one who can speak English.] Ludwig van Holp!" "Ya!" "Voostenwalbert Schimmelpenninck !" "No answer. "Ah! the little rogue has been kept at home. Now, hoys, it's just eight o'clock — ^glorious weather, and the Y is as firm as a rock — we'll be at Amsterdam in thirty minutes. One, two, three, start!" True enough, in less than half an hour they had crossed a dyke of solid masonry and were in the very heart of the great metropolis of the Netherlands— a walled city of ninety- five islands and nearly two hundred bridges. Although Ben had been twice there since his arrival in Holland, he saw much to excite wonder; but his Dutch comrades, having lived near by all their lives, considered it the most matter-of-course place in the world. Everything interested Ben; the tall houses with their forked chimneys; the narrow streets; the canals every- where crossing the city; the bridges; the various costumes, and, strangest of all, shops and dwellings crouching close to the fronts of the churches. Sometimes a dog-cart, heaped with wooden ware, passed him; then a donkey bearing a pair of panniers filled with crockery or glass ; then a sled driven over the bare cobble-stones (the runners kept greased with a dripping oil rag, so that it might run easily) ; and then, perhaps, a showy but clumsy family carriage, drawn by the brownest of Flanders horses, swinging the whitest of snowy tails. The city was in full festival array. Every shop was gor- geous in honor of Saint Nicholas. Captain Peter was forced, more than once, to order his men away from the tempting show windows, where everjrthing that is, has been, or can be WHAT THE BOYS SAW AND DID 57 thought of in the way of toys was displayed. Tiny canal boats a foot long, and fitted out, complete, made his heart ache, he so longed to buy one at once for his little brother in England. He had no money to spare, for with true Dutch prudence, the party had agreed to take with them merely the svmi required for each boy's expenses, and to consign the purse to Peter for safe-keeping. Consequently Master Ben concluded to devote all his energies to sight-seeing and to think as seldom as possible of little Bobby. The party skimmed along lightly upon the crowded canals. Lambert was busy pointing out things of interest to Ben, when he suddenly exclaimed: "Hiello! the others are way ahead of us — all but Jacob. Whew! how fat he is! He'U break down before we're half-way." Ben, of course, enjoyed skating beside Lambert, who, though a statmch Hollander, had been educated near London, and could speak English as fluently as Dutch; but he was not sorry when Captain van Holp called out: "Skates off! There's the Museum!" It was open and there was no charge on that day for admission. In they went, shuffling, as boys will, when they have a chance, just to hear the sound of their shoes on the pohshed floor. This Museima is in fact a pictiu-e gallery where some of the finest works of the Dutch masters are to be seen, besides nearly two hundred portfolios of rare engravings. "Boys!" called Lambert in a loud whisper, "come, look at this 'Bear Hunt'." It was a fine painting by Paul Potter, a Dutch artist of the seventeenth century, who produced excellent works before he was sixteen years old. The boys admired it because the subject pleased them. They passed carelessly by the master- 58 HANS BRINKER pieces of Rembrandt and Van der Heist, and went into rap- tures over an ugly picture by Van der Venne, representing a sea-fight between the Dutch and English. They also stood spellbound before a painting of two urchins, one of whom was taking soup and the other eating an egg. The principal merit in this work was that the young egg-eater had kindly slobbered his face with the yolk for their entertainment. "Come, boys!" cried the captain, "ten o'clock, time we were off!" They hastened to the canal. "Skates on! Are you ready? One, two — ^hello! where's Foot?" Sure enough, where was Foot? A square opening had just been cut in the ice not ten yards off. Feter observed it and, without a word, skated rap- idly toward it. All the others followed, of course. Feter looked in. They aU looked in, then stared anxiously at each other. "Foot!" screamed Feter, peering into the hole again. All was still. The black water gave no sign; it was alreadv glazing on top. Van Mounen turned mysteriously to Ben. "Didn't he have a fit once?" "My goodness! yes!" answered Ben, in a great fright. "Then, depend upon it, he's been taken with one in the Museimi!" The boys caught his meaning. Every skate was off in a twinkling. Feter had the presence of mind to scoop up a capful of water from the hole, and off they scampered to the rescue. WHAT THE BOYS SAW AND DID 59 Alas! They did indeed find poor Jacob in a fit — but it was a fit of sleepiness. There he lay in a recess of the gallery, snoring hke a trooper! The chorus of laughter that followed this discovery brought an angry official to the spot. "What now! None of this racket! Here, you beer barrel, wake up!" and Master Jacob received a very unceremonious shaking. As soon as Peter saw that Jacob's condition was not seri- ous, he hastened to the street to empty his unfortunate cap. While he was stuffing in his handkerchief to prevent the already frozen crown from touching his head, the rest of the boys came down, dragging the bewildered and indignant Jacob in their midst. The order to start was again given. Master Poot was wide awake at last. The ice was a little rough and broken just there, but every boy was in high spirits. "Shall we go on by the canal or the river?" asked Peter. "Oh, the river, by all means," said Carl. "It will be such fun; they say it is perfect skating aU the way, but it's much farther." Jacob Poot instantly became interested. "Z vote for the canal!" he cried. "WeU, the canal it shall be," responded the captain, "if aU are agreed." "Agreed!" they echoed, in rather a disappointed tone — and Captain Peter led the way. * "All right — come on — we can reach Haarlem in an hour!" BIG MAJSriAS A>rD UTTLE ODDITIES WHILE skating along at full speed, they heard the cars from Amsterdam coming close behind them. "Hello 1" cried Ludwig, glancing toward the rail-track — "who can't beat a locomotive? Let's give it a race!" The whistle screamed at the very idea — so did the boys — and at it they went. For an instant the boys were ahead, hurrahing with all their might, — only for an instant, but even that was something. Nothing could be straighter than the canal upon which our party were skating, and nothing straighter than the long rows of willow trees that stood, bare and wispy, along the bank. Ben was in ecstacy with the scene. Ludwig van Holp suddenly thought of something that he believed would make Ben open his eyes; he drew near Lambert with a triumphant: "Tell him about the tulips!" Ben caught the word "tulpen." "Oh! yes," said he eagerly, in English, "the Tulip Mania — are you speaking of that? I have often heard it mentioned, but know very little about it. It reached its height in Amster- dam, didn't it?" "Yes, here and in Haarlem, principally: but tiie excite- BIG MANIAS AND LITTLE ODDITIES 61 ment ran high all over Holland, and in England, too, for that matter," replied Lambert. "The first tulip was sent here from Constantinople about the year 1560. It was so much admired that the rich people of Amsterdam sent to Turkey for more. From that time they grew to be the rage. "Everyone speculated in tulips, even the barge-men and rag-women, and chironey-sweeps. The richest merchants were not ashamed to share the excitement. People bought bulbs and sold them again at a tremendous profit without ever seeing them. It grew into a kind of gambling. Some became rich by it in a few days, and some lost everything they had. Land, houses, cattle, and even clothing went for tulips when people had no ready money. Ladies sold their jewels and finery to enable them to join in the fun. Nothing else was thought of. At last the states-general interfered. People began to see what geese they were making of themselves, and down went the price of tulips. Old tulip debts couldn't be collected. Creditors went to law and the law turned its back upon them; debts made in gambling were not binding, it said. Then there was a time! Thousands of rich speculators reduced to beggary in an hour. As old Beckman says, 'The bubble was burst at last.' " "Yes, and a big bubble it was," said Ben, who had lis- tened with great interest. "By the way, did you know that the name tulip came from a Tiu-kish word, signifying 'turban'?" "I had forgotten that," answered Lambert, "but it's a capital idea. Just fancy a party of Turks in fuU headgear, squatted upon a lawn — ^perfect tulip bed I Hal ha! capital ideal" The skaters glided along merrily. Finally Ben said: "If we were not exercising all the time we would freeze outright." Lambert laughed. 62 HANS BRINKER "That's your English blood, Benjamin; I'm not cold. And look at the skaters here on the canal — ^they're red as roses, and happy as lords. Hello! good Captain van Holp," called out Lambert in Dutch, "what say you to stopping at yonder farm-house and warming om* toes?" "Who is cold?" asked Peter, turning around. "Benjamin Dobbs." "Benjamin Dobbs shall be warmed," and the party was brought to a halt. XI A CATASTROPHE ON approaching the door of the farm-house the boys sud- denly found themselves in the midst of a lively domestic scene. A burly Dutchman came rushing out, closely followed by his dear vrouw, and she was beating him smartly with a long-handled warming-pan. The expression on her face gave our boys so little promise of a kind reception that they pru- dently resolved to carry their toes elsewhere to be warmed. The next cottage proved to be more inviting. A neat, peaceful-looking old woman sat at one window, knitting. At the other could be discerned part of the profile of a fat figure that, pipe in mouth, sat behind the shining little panes and snowy curtain. In answer to Peter's subdued knock, a fair- haired, rosy-cheeked lass in holiday attire opened the upper half of the green door (which was divided across the middle) and inquired their errand. "May we enter and warm oiu-selves, jufvrouw?" asked the captain respectfully. "Yes, and welcome," was the reply, as the lower half of the door swimg softly toward its mate. Every boy before entering rubbed long and faithfully upon the rough mat, and each made his best bow to the old lady and gentleman at the windows. They both nodded their heads slowly, in precisely 63 A BURLY DUTCHMAN CAME RUSHING OUT, CLOSELY FOLLOWED BY HIS DEAR VROUW. A CATASTROPHE 65 IJK same way, and both went on witii tiieir emploTinrait steadily and stiffly as Uiough lliey worked fay machinery. But the rosy-cheeked maiden! Ah! how she bustled about. How she gave the boys polished, hi^-faad&ed chairs to sit upon; she made Jacob Foot almost weep for joy by bringing forth a great square of gingerbread, and a stone jug of sour wine! How she laughed and nodded as the boys ate like wild animals on good behavior, and how blank she looked when Ben politely bat firmly refused to take any black bread and sourkrout! How she pulled oflf Jacob's mitten, which was torn at tihe thumb, and mended it before his eyes, biting off the thread with her white teeth and saying, "Now it will be warmer," as she bit; and finally, how she shook hands with every boy in turn and insisted upon filb'ng their pockets with gingerbread! It was nearly one o'clock when Captain van Holp and his command entered the grand old city of Haarlem. They had skated nearly seventeen miles since m^oming and were still as fresh as yoimg eagles. From the youngest (Ludwig van Holp, who was just fourteen) to the eldest, no less a per- sonage than the captain himself, a veteran of seventeen, there was but one opinion — ^that this was the greatest frolic of their lives. Even Carl Schummel, "sviio had become very intimate with Liudwig during the excursion, forgot to be ill-natured. As for Peter, he was the happiest of tiie happy, and had sung and whistled so joyously while skating that the staidest pass- exs-by had smiled as they listened. "Come, boys! it's nearly limch hour," said Peter, as Itey neared a coffee-house on ihe main street. "We must have somdiiing more solid than the pretty maMen's gingerbread — " 66 HANS BRINKER and the captain plunged his hands into his pockets as if to say, "There's money enough here to feed an army!" "Hello!" cried Lambert, "what ails the man?" Peter, pale and staring, was clapping his hands upon his breast and sides — ^he looked like one suddenly becoming de- ranged. "He's sick!" cried Ben. "No, he's lost something," said Carl. Peter could only gasp — "The pocketbook! with all our money in it — ^it's gone!" For an instant all were too much startled to speak. Carl at last came out with a grufif: "No sense in letting one fellow have all the money. I said so from the first. Look in your other pocket." "I did— it isn't there." "Open your under jacket — " Peter obeyed mechanically. He even took off his hat and looked into it — ^then thrust his hand desperately into every pocket." "It's gone, boys," he said at last, in a hopeless tone. "No lunch for us, nor dinner either. What is to be done? We can't get on without money. If we were in Amsterdam I could get as much as we want, but there is not a man in Haarlem from whom I can borrow a dollar. Don't one of you know anyone here who would lend us a few guilders?" Each boy looked into five blank faces. Then something like a smile passed around the circle, but it got sadly knotted up when it reached Carl. "That wouldn't do," he said crossly, "I know some people here — ^rich ones, too — but father would flog me soundly if I borrowed a cent from anyone. He has 'An honest man need not horro'vo" written over the gateway of his summer-house." 'A CATASTROPHE 67 "Humph!" responded Peter, not particularly admiring the sentiment just at that moment The boys grew desperately hungry at once. "How much money have we lost?" alsked Ludwig, dismally. "Don't you remember," said Peter. "We each put in exactly ten guilders. The purse had sixty guilders in it. I am the stupidest fellow in the world; little Schimmelpenninck would have made you a better captain. I could pommel myself for bringing such a disappointment upon you." "Do it then," growled Carl. "Pooh!" he added, "we all know it was an accident, but that doesn't help matters. We must have some money. Van Holp — even if you have to seU your wonderful watch." "SeU my mother's birthday present! Never! I will sell lay coat, my hat, anything but my watch." "Come, come," said Jacob pleasantly, "we are making too much of this affair. We can go home and start again in a day or two." "You may be able to get another ten-guilder piece," said Carl, "but the rest of us wiU not find it so easy. If we go home, we stay home, you may depend." Our captain, whose good-nature had not yet forsaken him for a moment, grew indignant. "Do you think I will let you suffer for my carelessness?" he exclaimed, "I have three times sixty guilders in my strong box at home!" "Oh, I beg your pardon," said Carl hastily, adding, in a surlier tone: "Well, I see no better way than to go back hungry." "I see a better plan than that," said the captain. "What is it?" cried all the boys. 68 HANS BRINKER "Why, to make the best of a bad business and go back pleasantly, and like men," said Peter, looking so gallant and handsome as he turned his frank face and clear blue ^es upon tibeHtt, that they caught his spirit. "Ho for the Captain!" they shouted. "N"ow, boys, we may as well make up our minds there's no place like Broek, after all — and that we meaxi to be there in two hours — ^is that agreed to?" "Agreed!" cried aU, as they ran to the canal. "On with your skates! Are you ready t Here, Jacob, let me help you." "Now. One, two, three — start!" And the boyish faces that left Haarlem at that signal were nearly as bright as those that had entered it with Captain Peter haK an hour before. XII HANS **"P|ONDER and Blixin!" cried Carl angrily, before the U party had skated twenty yards from the city gates, "if here isn't that wooden-skate ragamuflSn in the patched leather breeches. That fellow is everywhere, confound him! WeTl be lucky," he added, in as sneering a tone as he dared to assume, "if our captain doesn't order us to halt and shake hands with him." "Your captain is a terrible fellow," said Peter, pleasantly, "but this is a false alarm, Carl — I cannot spy yoiu* bugbear anywhere among the skaters — ah! there he is! Why, what is the matter with the lad?" Poor Hans! His face was pale, his lips compressed. He 69 70 HANS BRINKER skated like one under the effects of a fearful dream. Just as he was passing, Peter hailed him: "Good-day, Hans Brinker!" Hans' countenance brightened at once. — "Ah! mynheer, is that you? It is well we meet!" "Just like his impertinence," hissed Carl Schummel, dart- ing scornfully past his, companions, who seejned inclined to linger with their captain. "I am glad to see you, Hans," responded Peter, cheerily, "but you look troubled. Can I serve you?" "I have a trouble, mynheer," answered Hans, casting down his eyes. Then, lifting them again with almost a happy ex- pression, he added, "but it is Hans who can help Mynheer van Holp this time." "How?" asked Peter, making, in his blunt Dutch way, no attempt to conceal his surprise. "By giving you this, mynheer," — and Hans held forth the missing purse. "Hurrah!" shouted the boys, taking their cold hands from their pockets to wave them joyfully in the air. But Peter said, "Thank you, Hans Brinker," in a tone that made Hans feel as if the King had knelt to him. The shout of the delighted boys reached the muffled ears of the fine young gentleman who, under a full pressure of pent-up wrath, was skating toward Amsterdam. A manly boy would have wheeled about at once and hastened to satisfy his curiosity, but Carl only halted and, with his back toward his party, wondered what on earth had happened. There he stood, immovable, until, feeling svu-e that nothing but the prospect of something to eat could have made them hurrah so heartily, he turned and skated slowly toward his excited comrades. HANS 71 Meantime Peter had drawn Hans aside from the rest. "How did you know it was my purse?" he asked. "You paid me three guilders yesterday, mynheer, for mak- ing the white-wood chain, teUing me that I must huy skates." "Yes, I remember." "I saw your purse then; it was of yellow leather." "And where did you find it today?" "I left my home this morning, mynheer, in great trouble, and as I skated I took no heed until I stumbled against some lumber, and while I was rubbing my knee I saw your purse nearly hidden under a log." "That place! Ah, I remember now; just as we were passing it I pulled my muffler from my pocket and probably flirted out the purse at the same time. It would have been gone but for you, Hans. Here" — ^potu-ing out the contents — you — "'No, mynheer," answered Hans. He spoke quietly, with- out pretense or any grace of manner, but Peter, somehow, felt rebuked, and put the silver back without a word. "I like that boy, rich or poor," he thought to himself, then added aloud, "May I ask about this trouble of yovu-s, Hans?" "Ah, mynheer, it is a sad case — ^but I have waited here too long. I am going to Leyden to see the great Doctor Boekman — " "Doctor Boekman!" exclaimed Peter in astonishment. "Yes, mynheer, and I have not a moment to lose. Good- day!" "Stay! I am going that way. Come, my lads! Shall we return to Haarlem?" "Yes," cried the boys eagerly — ^and off they started. "Now," said Peter, drawing near Hans, both skimming the 72 HANS BRINKER ice so easily and lightly as they skated on together that they seemed scarce conscious of moving, "we are going to stop at Leyden, and if you are going there only with a message to Doctor Boekman, cannot I do the errand for you? The boys may be too tired to skate so far today, but I will promise to see him early tomorrow if he is to be foxmd in the city." "Ah, mynheer, that would be serving me indeed; it is not the distance I dread, but leaving my mother so long." "Is she iU?" "No, mynheer. It is the father. You may have heard it; how he has been without wit for many a year — ever since the great Schlossen mill was buUt; but his body has been well and strong. Last night the mother knelt upon the hearth to blow the peat (it is his only delight to sit and watch the live embers, and she will blow them into a blaze every hovu* of the day to please him). Before she could stir he sprang upon her like a giant and held her close to the fire, all the time laughing and shaking his head. I was on the canal, but I heard the mother scream and ran to her. The father had never loosened his hold and her gown was smoking. I tried to deaden the fire, but with one hand he pushed me oif . There was no water in the cottage or I could have done better — and aU that time he laughed — such a terrible laugh, mynheer; hardly a sound, but aU in his face — I tried to puU her away, but that only made it worse — ^then — it was dreadful, but could I see the mother bin-n? I beat him — ^beat him with a stool. He tossed me away. The gown was on fire! I •would put it out. I can't remember well after that; I found myself upon the floor and the mother was praying — it seemed to me she was in a blaze, and all the while I could hear that laugh. My sister Gretel screamed out that he was holding the mother close to Uie very coals, I could not tell! Gretel flew to the closet and HANS 73 filled a porringer with the food he liked, and put it upon the floor. Then, mynheer, he left the mother and crawled to it like a little child. She was not humt, only a part of her cloth- ing — ah, how kind she was to him aU night, watching and tending him — ^he slept in a high fever, with his hands pressed to his head. The mother says he has done that so much of late, as though he felt pain there — ^Ah, mynheer, I did not mean to tell you. If the father was himseK he would not harm even a kitten — " For a moment the two hoys moved on in silence — "It is terrible," said Peter at last. "How is he today?" "Very sick, mynheer — " "Why go for Dr. Boekman, Hans? There are others in Amsterdam who could help him, perhaps; — ^Boekman is a famous man, sought only by the wealthiest and they often wait upon him in vain." "He promisedj mynheer; he promised me yesterday to come to the father in a week — ^but now that the change has come, we cannot wait — we think the poor father is dying — Oh! mynheer, you can plead with him to come quick — ^he will not wait a whole week and ovu* father dying — the good meester is so kind — " "So kind!" echoed Peter, in astonishment, "why, he is known as the crossest man in Holland!" "He looks so because he has no fat and his head is busy, but his heart is kind, I know — Tell the meester what I have told you, mynheer, and he will come." "I hope so, Hans, with all my heart. You are in haste to turn homeward, I see. Promise me that should you need a friend, you wiU go to my mother, at Broek. Tell her I bade you see her; and, Hans Brioker — ^not as a reward — ^but as a gift — take a few of these guilders." 74 HANS BRINKER Hans shook his head resolutely. ""No, no, mynheer — I cannot take it. If I could find work in Broek or at the South mill I would be glad, but it is the same story everywhere — 'wait till spring'." "It is well you speak of it," said Peter eagerly, "for my father needs help at once. Your pretty chain pleased him much — ^he said, 'that boy has a clean cut, he would be good at carving' — There is to be a carved portal to our new sum- mer-house and father will pay well for the job." "God is good!" cried Hans in sudden delight, "Oh! myn- heer, that would be too much joy — I have never tried big work — but I can do it — I know I can." "Well, tell my father you are the Hans Brinker of whom I spoke. He will be glad to serve you." Hans stared in honest surprise. "Thank you, mynheer." "Now, Captain," ?houted Carl, anxious to appear as goou- na,tured as possible, by way of atonement, "here we are in the midst of Haarlem, and no word from you yet — ^we await your orders, and we're as hungry as wolves." Peter made a cheerful answer and turned hurriedly to Hans. "Come, get something to eat and I will detain you no longer." What a quick, wistful look Hans threw upon him! Peter wondered that he had not noticed before that the poor boy was hungry. "Ah, mynheer, even now the mother may need me, the father may be worse — I must not wait. May God care for you" — and, nodding hastily, Hans turned his face homeward and was gone." "Come, boys," sighed Peter, "now for our lunch!" XIII HOMES IT must not be supposed that our young Dutchmen had ah-eady forgotten the great skating race which was to take place on the twentieth. On the contrary, they had thought and spoken of it very often during the day. Even Ben, though he had felt more like a traveler than the rest, had never once, through all the sight-seeing, lost a certain vision of silver skates which, for a week past, had haunted him night and day. Like a true "John Bull," as Jacob had called him, he never doubted that his English fleetness, English strength, English everything, could at any time enable him, on the ice, to put all Holland to shame, and the rest of the world, too, for that matter. Ben certainly was a superb skater. Only to the heavy heart of poor Hans had the vision of the silver skates failed to appear during that starry winter night and the brighter sunlit day. Rychie, Hilda and Katrinka — why, they had scarcely knoAvn any other thought than "The racel the race! It will come off on the twentieth!" These three girls were friends. Though of nearly the same age, talent and station, they were as different as girls could be. Hilda van Gleck you already know — a warm-hearted, noble girl of fourteen, Rychie van Korbes was beautiful to look upon, 75 76 HANS BRINKER far more sparkling and pretty than Hilda, but not half so bright and sunny within. Clouds of pride, of discontent and envy had abeady gathered in her heart, and were growing bigger and darker every day. Katrinka was a very lively girl, whose nature was made of a hundred tinkling beUs. She was a coquette in her infancy, a coquette in her childhood, and now a coquette in her school- days. Everyone Uked her, but who could love her? She was never in earnest. A pleasant face, a pleasant heart, a pleas- ant manner — these only satisfy for an hour. How different were the homes of these three girls from the tumbling old cottage where Gretel dwelt. Rychie lived in a beautiful house near Amsterdam, where the carved sideboards were laden with services of silver and gold, and where silken tapestries hung in folds from ceiling to floor. Hilda's father owned the largest mansion in Broek. Its glittering roof of polished tiles, and its boarded front, painted in half a dozen various colors, were the admiration of the neighborhood. Katrinka's home, not a mile distant, was the finest of Dutch country-seats. The garden was so stiffly laid out in little paths and patches that the birds might have mistaken it for a great Chinese puzzle with all the pieces spread out ready for use. But in summer it was beautiful. Carl was both right and vrrong when he said that Katrinka and Rychie were furious at the very idea of the peasant, Gretel, joining in the race. He had heard Rychie declare it was "Disgraceful, shameful, too had!" which in Dutch, as in Eng- lish, is generally the strongest expression an indignant girl can use; and he had seen Katrinka nod her pretty head and heard her sweetly echo, "Shameful, too badl" as nearly like Rychie as tinkling bells can be like the voice of real anger. HOMES 77 This had satisfied him. He never suspected that had Hilda, not Rychie, first talked with Katrinka upon the subject, the hells wotild have jingled as willing an echo. She would have said, "Certainly, let her join us," and would have skipped off thinking no more about it. But now Katrinka with sweet emphasis pronounced it a shame that a goose-girl, a forlorn little creature like Gretel, should be allowed to spoil the race. Rychie, being rich and powerful (in a school-girl way), had other followers, besides Katrinka, who were induced to share her opinions because they were either too careless or too cowardly to think for themselves. Poor little Gretel! Her home was sad and dark enough now Raff Brinker lay moaning upon his rough bed, and his vrouw, forgetting and forgiving everything, bathed his fore- head, his lips, weeping and praying that he might not die. Hans, as we know, had started, in desperation, for Leyden to search for Dr. Boekman, and induce him, if possible, to come to their father at once. Gretel, filled with a strange dread, had done the work as well as she could, wiped the rough brick floor, brought peat to build up the slow fire, and melted ice for her mother's use. This accomplished, she seated herself upon a low stool near the bed and begged her mother to try and sleep awhile. "You are so tired," she whispered, "not once have you dosed your eyes since that dreadful hour last night. See, I have straightened the willow bed in the corner and spread everything soft upon it I could find, so that the mother might lie in comfort. Here is your jacket. Take o3 that pretty dress, I'D fold it away very careful, and put it in the big chest before you go to sleep." Dame Brinker shook her head without turning her eyes from her husband's face. 78 HANS BRINKER "I can watch, mother," urged Gretel, "and I'll wake you every time the father stirs. You are so pale, and your eyes are so red — oh, mother, do!" The child pleaded in vain. Dame Brinker would not leave her post. Gretel looked at her in troubled silence, wondering whether it were very wicked to care more for one parent than for the other — and sure, yes, quite sure, that she dreaded her father, while she clung to her mother with a love that was almost idolatry. "Hans loves the father so well," she thought, "why cannot I? Yet I could not help crying when I saw his hand bleed that day, last month, when he snatched the knife— and now, when he moans, how I ache, ache all over. Perhaps I love him, after all, and God wiU see I am not such a bad, wicked girl as I thought. Yes, I love the poor father — almost as Hans does — ^not quite, for Hans is stronger and does not fear him. Oh, will that moaning go on forever and ever! Poor mother, how patient she is; she never pouts, as I do, about the money that went away so strangely. If he only could, just for one instant, open his eyes and look at us, as Hans does, and tell us where mother's guilders went, I would not care for the rest — ^yes, I would care — I don't want the poor father to die, to be aU blue and cold like Annie Boimian's little sister — I hnow I don't— dear God, I don't want father to die. "Oh, mother, if Hans were only here he could turn the father some way so the moans would stop — dear! dear! if this sickness lasts, we shall never skate any more. I must send my new skates back to the beautiful lady. Hans and I will not see the race," and Gretel's eyes, that had been dry lJefo]?ei grew full of tears. HOMES 79 "Never cry, child," said her mother soothingly. "This sickness may not be as bad as we think. The father has lain this way before." Gretel sobbed now. "Oh, mother, it is not that alone — ^you do not know aU — I am very, very bad and wicked!" "YoUj Gretel! you, so patient and good!" and a bright, puzzled look beamed for an instant upon the child. "Hush! lovey, you'll wake him." Gretel hid her face in her mother's lap and tried not to cry. Her little hand, so thin and brown, lay in the coarse pahn of her mother, creased with many a hard day's work. Rychie would have shuddered to touch either, yet they pressed warmly upon each other. Soon Gretel looked up with that dull, homely look which, they say, poor children in shanties are apt to have, and said in a trembling voice: "The father tried to burn you — ^he did — I saw him, and he was laughing!" "Hush, child!" The mother's words came so suddenly and sharply that Raff Brinker, dead as he was to all that was passing roimd him, twitched slightly upon the bed. XIV HAABXEM THE BOYS HEAK VOICES REFRESHED and rested, our boys came forth from the coffee-hoiise just as the big clock in the Square, after the manner of certain Holland timekeepers, was striking tapo with its half-hour bell, for half-past two. The captain was absorbed in thought at first, for Hajis Brinker's sad story still echoed in his ears. Not until Ludwig rebuked him with a laughing "Wake up, Grandfather!" did he reassume his position as gallant boy-leader of his band. "Ahem! this way, yoimg gentlemen!" Haarlem, hke Amsterdam, was gayer than usual, in honor of Saint Nicholas. A strange figure was approaching them. It was a 80 HAARLEM— THE BOYS HEAR VOICES 81 man dressed in black, with a short cloak; he wore a wig and a cocked hat from which a long crape streamer was flying. "Who comes here?" cried Ben, "what a queer-looking object." "That's the aanspreeher" said Lambert, "someone is dead." "Is that the way men dress in mourning in this country?" "Oh, no. The aanspreeher attends fimerals, and it is his business, when anyone dies, to notify all the friends and relatives." "What a strange custom." "Well," said Lambert, "we needn't feel very badly about this particular death, for I see another man has lately heefx bom to the world to fill up the vacant place." Ben stared. "How do you know that?" "Don't you see that pretty red pin-cushion hailing om. yonder door?" asked Lambert in return. "Yes." "WeU, that's a boy." "A boy! What do yoii mean?" "I mean that here in Haarlem, whenever a boy is bom, the parents have a red pin-eus^on put out at the door. If our young friend had been a girl instead of a boy the cushion would have been white. In some places they have much more fanciful affairs, aU trimmed with lace, and even among •die very poorest houses you will see a bit of ribbon or even a string tied on the door-latch^ — " "Look!" almost screamed Ben, "there is a white cushion, at the door of that double-jointed house with the fimny roof." "True enough — ^there's a girl! I tell you what. Captain," caUed out Lambert, slipping easily into Dutch, "we must get 82 HANS BRINKER out of this street as soon as possible. It's full of babies! They'll set up a squaU in a moment." The captain laughed. "I shall take you to hear better music than that," he said; "we are just in time to hear the organ of Saint Bavon. The church is open today." "What! the great Haarlem organ?" asked Ben. "The same," answered Lambert van Moimen. Peter was right. The church was open, though not for religious services. Someone was playing upon the organ. As the boys entered a swell of sound rushed forth to meet them. It seemed to bear them, one by one, into the shadows of the building. Louder and louder it grew until it became like the din and roar of some mighty tempest, or hke the ocean surging upon the shore. At last the storm grew silent; hidden birds sprang forth, filling the air with glad, ecstatic music, rising higher and higher until the last faint note was lost in the distance. To Peter and Ben it seemed that the angels were singing. Their eyes grew dim and their souls dizzy with a strange joy. At last, as if borne upward by invisible hands, they were float- ing away on the music, all fatigue forgotten, and with no wish but to hear forever those beautiful sounds — ^when suddenly Van Holp's sleeve was puUed ixnpatiently and a gruff voice beside him asked: "How long are you going to stay here, Captain — ^blink- ing at the ceiling like a sick rabbit? It's high time we started." "Hush!" whispered Peter, only half aroused. "Come, man! Let's go," said Carl, giving the sleeve a second pull. Peter turned reluctantly; he would not detain the boys HAARLEM— THE BOYS HEAR VOICES 83 against their will. All but Ben were casting rather reproach- ful glances upon him. "Well, boys," he whispered, "we will go. Softly now." "That's the greatest thing I've seen or heard since I've been in Holland!" cried Ben, enthusiastically, as soon as they reached the open air. "It's glorious!" Lambert, the interpreter, responded with a brisk — "You may well say so. I believe there are one or two organs nowadays that are said to be as fine, but for years and years this organ of Saint Bavon was the grandest in the world. Handel, the great composer, once chanced to visit Haarlem and of course he hunted up this famous organ. He gained admittance and was playing upon it with all his might, when the regular organist chanced to enter the building. The man stood awe-struck; he was a good player himself, but he had never heard such music before. 'Who is there?' he cried. 'If it is not an angel or the devil, it must be Handel!' When he discovered that it was the great musician, he was stiU more mystified. 'But how is this?' said he; 'you have done impossible things — ^no ten fingers on earth can play the passages you have given; human hands couldn't control all^ the keys and stops !' 'I know it,' said Handel, coolly, 'and for that reason I was forced to strike some notes with the end of my nose.' Donder! just think how the old organist must have stared!" Leaving the church, the boys were soon on the Grand Canal again. As they skated toward Leyden, Lambert said: "I never pass through Haarlem but I think of the story of its little hero." "Oh, do tell me about him," entreated Ben eagerly. Lambert was only jtoo willing and related the following S4 HANS BBINKER story: "Many years ago, there lived in Haarlem, one of tJie principal cities of Holland, a sunny-haired boy of gentle dis- position. His father was a slnioer, that is, a man whose busi- ness it was to open and close the sluices, or large oaken gates, that are placed at regular distances across the entrances of the canals, to regulate the amount of water that shall flow into them. "One lovely autumn afternoon, when the boy was about eight years old, he obtained his parents' consent to carry some cakes to a blind man who lived out in the country, on the other side of the dyke. The little fellow started on his errand with a light heart and, having spent an hour with his grateful friend, he bade him farewell and started on his homeward walk. "Trudging stoutly along by the canal, he noticed how the autumn rains had swollen the waters. It was growing dark. He was still some distance from home, and in a lonely ravine, when he was startled by the sovmd of trickling water. Whence did it come? He looked up and saw a small hole in "ttie dyke through which a tiny stream was flowing. Any child in Holland will shudder at the thought of a leak in the dyke! The boy imderstood the danger at a glance. That little hole, if the water were allowed to trickle through, would soon be a large one, and a terrible inundation woidd be the result. "Quick as a flash he saw his duty. He clambered up the heights imtiL he reached the hole. His chubby little finger was thrust in, almost before he knew it. The flowing was slopped! *Ahr he thought, with a chuckle of boyish delight, 'the angry waters must stay back now! Haarlem wiU not be drowned while I am Jieref "This was aU very well at first, but the night was falling rapidly; chill vapors filled the air. Our little hero began to tronble with cold and dread. He shouted loudly; he screamed, HIS CHUBBY LITTLE PINGEE WAS THRUST IN, ALMOST BEFORE HE KNEW IT. 86 HANS BRINKER 'Come here! come here!' but no one came. The cold grew more intense. "The niidnight moon looked down upon that small, soli- tary form, sitting upon a stone, haK-way up the dyke. His head was bent, but he was not asleep, for every now and then one restless hand rubbed feebly the outstretched arm that seemed fastened to the dyke — and often the pale, tearful face turned quickly at some real or fancied sound. "At daybreak a clergyman, returning from the bedside of a sick parishioner, thought he heard groans as he walked along the top of the dyke. Bending, he saw, far down on the side, a child apparently writhing with pain. " 'In the name of wonder, child,' he exclaimed, 'what are you doing there?' " 'I am keeping the water from running out,' was the simple answer of the little hero. 'Tell them to come quick.' "It is needless to add that they did come quickly and that " "The noble Kttle fellow!" interrupted Ben. "Is it a true story?" "True! Of covu-se it is," said Lambert, kindling. "I have given you the story just as mother told it to me years ago. Why, there is not a child in Holland who does not know it. And, Ben, you may not think so, but that httle boy represents the spirit of the whole country. Not a leak can show itself anjrwhere either in its politics, honor or pubhc safety, but that a million fingers are ready to stop it at any cost." "Whew!" cried Master Ben, "big talking that!" "It's true talk anyway," rejoined Lambert, so very quietly that Ben wisely resolved to make no further comment. XV ON THE CANAl. THE skating season had commenced unusually early; our boys were by no means alone upon the ice. The after- noon was so fine that men, women and children, bent upon enjoying the holiday, had flocked to the grand canal from far and near. Saint Nicholas had evidently remembered the favorite pastime; shining new skates were everywhere to be seen. Whole families were sldmming their way to Haarlem or Leyden or the neighboring villages. Boys and girls were chasing each other and hiding be- hind the one-horse sleds, that, loaded high with peat or timber, pursued their cautious way along the track marked out as "safe." Suddenly a beautiful ice-boat with reefed sail and flaying 87 88 HANS BRINKER streamers swept leisurely by. Its deck was filled with chil- dren muffled up to their chins. They were singing a chorus in honor of Saint Nicholas. The music, starting in the discord of a hundred childish voices, floated, as it rose, into exquisite harmony: "Friend of sailors, and of children! Double claim have we. As in youthful joy we're sailing, O'er a frozen sea! Nicholas! Saint Nicholas! Let us sing to thee. "While through wintry air we're rushing. As our voices blend. Are you near us ? Do you hear us, Nicholas, our friend ? Nicholas! Saint Nicholas! Love can never end. "Sunny sparkles, bright before us. Chase away the cold! Hearts where sunny thoughts are welcome. Never can g:row old — Nicholas! Saint Nicholasl-^ Never can grow oldl "Pretty gift and loving lesson. Festival and glee. Bid us thank thee as we're sailing O'er the frozen sea — Nicholas! Saint Nicholas! So we sing to thee!" The last note died away in the distance. Otu* boys, who in their vain efforts to keep up with the boat, had felt that they were skating backward, turned to look at one another. "How beautiful that was!" exclaimed Van Moimen. "Just like a dream!" said Ludwig Jacob drew close to Ben, giving his usual approving nod, as he spoke: ON THE CANAL 89 "Dat ish goot. Dat ish te pest vay — I shay petter to take to Leyden mit a poati" "Take a boat!" exclaimed Ben in dismay — "why, man, our plan was to skate^ not to be carried like little children " The boys laughed, but exchanged uneasy glances. It would be great fun to jump on an ice-boat, if they had a chance; but to abandon so shamefully their grand undertak- ing — ^who could think of such a thing? An animated discussion arose at once. Captain Peter brought his party to a halt. "Boys," said he, "it strikes me that we should consult Jacob's wishes in this matter. He started the excursion, you know." "Pooh!" sneered Carl, throwing a contemptuous glance at Jacob, "who's tired? We can rest aU night at Leyden." Ludwig and Lambert looked anxious and disappointed. It was no slight thing to lose the credit of having skated all the way from Broek to The Hague and back again, but both agreed that Jacob should decide the question. Good-natured, tired Jacob! He read the popular senti- ment at a glance. "Oh! no," he said, in Dutch. "I was joking. We will skate, of course." The boys gave a delighted shout and started on again with renewed vigor — All but Jacob. He tried his best not to seem fatigued and, by not saying a word, saved his breath and energy for the great business of skating. But in vain. Before long tho stout body grew heavier and heavier — ^the tottering limbs weaker and weaker, and he fell heavily upon the ice. "HeUo!" cried Van Mounen. "There goes Poot!" Ben sprang hastily forward. 90 HANS BRINKER "Jacob! Jacob, are you hurt?" Peter and Carl were lifting him. His face was white. It seemed like a dead face — even the good-natured look was gone. A crowd collected. Peter unbuttoned the poor boy's jacket, loosened his red muffler, and blew between the parted lips. "Stand off, good people!" he cried, "give him air!" "Lay him down," called out a woman from the crowd. "Stand him upon his feet," shouted another. "Give him wine," growled a stout fellow who was driving ia loaded sled "Yes! yes, give him wine!" echoed everybody. LiUdwig and Lambert shouted in concert: "Wine! wine! Who has wine?" A sleepy-eyed Dutchman began to fumble mysterioudy under the heaviest of blue jackets, saying as he did so: "Not so much noise, young masters, not so much noise! The boy was a fool to faint off like a girl." "Wine, quick!" cried Peter, who, with Ben's help, was rubbing Jacob from head to foot. Ludwig stretched forth his hand imploringly toward the Dutchman, who, with an air of great importance, was still fumbling beneath the jacket. "Do hurry! He will die! Has anyone else any wine?" "He is dead!" said an awful voice from among the by- standers. This startled the Dutchman. "Have a care!" he said, reluctantly drawing forth a small blue flask, "this is schnaps. A little is enough." A little was enough. The paleness gave way to a faint flush. Jacob opened his eyes and — half bewildered, half ^Al.c. Ca ngyg «TES, YES, GIVE HIM WINE!" ECHOED EVERYBODY. 92 HANS BRINKER ashamed — feebly tried to free himself from those who were supporting him. There was no alternative now* for the party, but to have their exhausted comrade carried, in some way, to Leyden. As for expecting him to skate any more that day, the thing was impossible. In truth, by this time each boy began to enter- tain secret yearnings towards ice-boats, and to avow a Spartan resolve not to desert Jacob. Fortunately a gentle, steady breeze was setting southward. Peter hailed the first sail that appeared; the men in the stern would not even look at him. Three drays on rvmners came along, but they were already loaded to the utmost. Then an ice-boat, a beautiful, tempting little one, whizzed past like an arrow. The boys had just time to stare eagerly at it when it was gone. In despair, they resolved to prop up Jacob with their strong arms, as well as they could, and take him to the nearest village. At that moment a very shabby ice-boat came in sight. With but little hope of success, Peter hailed it, at the same time taking off his hat and flourishing it in the air. The sail was lowered, then came the scraping sound of the brake, and a pleasant voice called out from the deck: "What now?" "Will you take us on?" cried Peter, hvurying with his companions as fast as he could, for the boat was "bringing to" some distance ahead, "will you take us on?" "We'll pay for the ride!" shouted Carl. The man on board scarcely noticed him except to mutter something about it not being a canal-boat. Still looking toward Peter he asked: "How many?" "Six." ON THE CANAL 93 "Well, it's Nicholas' day — up with you I Young gentle- man sick?" (nodding towards Jacob). "Yes — ^broken down — skated all the way from Broek," asnwered Peter. "Do you go to Leyden?" "That's as the wind says — it's blowing that way now. Scramble up!" Poor Jacob! It was as much as the boys could do to hoist him into the boat. All were in at last. The owner of the boat, puiSng away at his pipe, let out the sail, lifted the brake, and sat in the stern with folded arms. "Whew! How fast we go!" cried Ben, "this is something like! Feel better, Jacob?" "Much petter, I tanks you." "Oh, you'll be as good as new in ten minutes. This makes a fellow feel hke a bird." Jacob nodded and blinked his eyes. "Don't go to sleep, Jacob ; it's too cold. You might never ;w^ake up, you know. Persons often freeze to death in that way." "I no sleep," said Jacob confidently — and in two minutes he was snoring. Carl and Ludwig laughed. "We must wake him!" cried Ben, "it is dangerous, I tell you — ^Jacob! Ja-a-c " Captain Peter interfered, for three of the boys were help- ing Ben for the fun of the thing. "Nonsense! don't shake him! Let him alone, boys. One never snores like that when one's freezing. Cover him up with something. Here, this cloak will do." "There," said Peter, tenderly adjusting the garment, "let Mm sleep. He will be frisky as a lamb when he wakes." It was a grand sail, or ride, I scarce know which to call it; perhaps "fly" would be the best word; for the boys felt 94 HANS BRINKER very much as Sinbad did when, tied to the roc's leg, he darted through the clouds; or as Bellerophon felt when he shot through the air on the back of his winged horse Pegasus. Sailing, riding or flying, whichever it was, everything was rushing past, backward — and, before they had tune to draw a long breath, Leyden itself, with its high, peaked roofs, flew half-way to meet them. When the city came in sight it was high time to waken the sleeper. That feat accomplished, Peter's prophecy came to pass. Master Jacob was quite restored and in excellent spirits. The boat owner made a feeble remonstrance when Peter, with hearty thanks, endeavored to shp some silver pieces into his tough, brown palm. "Ye see, young master," said he, drawing away his hand, "the regular line o' trade's one thing, and a favor's another." "I know it," said Peter, "but those boys and girls of yours will want sweets when you get home. Buy them some in the name of Saint Nicholas." The man grinned. "Aye, true enough; I've young 'uns in plenty — a clean boat-load of them. You are a sharp young master at guessing." This time, the knotty hand hitched forward again, quite carelessly, it seemed, but its palm was upward. Peter hastily dropped in the money and moved away. The sail soon came tumbliog down. Scrape, scrape went the brake, scattering an ice shower roimd the boat. "Good-bye!" shouted the boys, seizing their skates and leaping from the deck one by one, "many thanks to you!" "Ho! for an inn!" cried Peter, as they stepped into the city. "Be brisk, my fine fellows!" XVI MYNHEER KLEEF AND HIS BILL OF FAJETE THE boys soon found an unpretending establishment near Broad Street, with a funnily painted Hon over the door. This was the Red Lion, kept by Huygens Kleef, a stout Dutchman with short legs and a very long pipe. By this time they were in a ravenous condition. The lunch taken at Haarlem had served only to give them an appetite, and this had been heightened by their exercise and swift sail upon the canal. "Come, mine host! give us what you canl" cried Peter, rather pompously. "I can give you anything — everything," answered Myn- heer Kleef, performing a bow with difficulty. "Well, give us sausage and pudding." "Ah, mynheer, the sausage is all gone. There is no pudding." "Salmagundi, then, and plenty of it." "That is out also, young master." "Eggs, and be quick." "Winter eggs are very poor eating," answered the inn- keeper, puckering his lips and lifting his eyebrows. "No eggs? — well — caviare." The Dutchman raised his fat hands — "Caviare! That is made of gold! Who has caviare to sell?" Peter had sometimes eaten it at home; he knew that it 95 96 HANS BRINKER was made of the roes of the sturgeon and certain other large fish, but he had no idea of its cost. "Well, mine host, what have you?" "What have I? Everything. I have rye bread, sour- krout, potato salad, and the fattest herring in Leyden." "What do you say, boys?" asked the captain, "will that do?" "Yes," cried the famished youths, "if he'U only be quick." Mynheer moved off like one walking in his sleep, but soon opened his eyes wide at the miraculous manner in which his herring were made to disappear. Next came, or rather went, potato salad, rye bread and coffee — then Utrecht water flavored with orange, and, finally, slices of dry gingerbread- This last delicacy was not on the regular biU of fare, but Mynheer Kleef, driven to extremes, solemnly produced it from ,his own private stores, and gave only a placid blink when his voracious yoimg travelers started up, declaring they had eaten enough. Softly rubbing his hands, he asked: "WiU yoiu* worships have beds?" "Will your worships have beds?" mocked Carl — "what do you mean? Do we look sleepy?" "Not at all, master; but I would cause them to be warmed and aired. None sleep under damp sheets at the Red Lion." "Ah, I understand. Shall we come back here to sleep, Captain?" Peter was accustomed to finer lodgings, but this was a frolic. "Why not?" he replied, "we can fare excellently here." "Your worship speaks only the truth," said mynheer with great deference. "How fine to be called 'your worship'," laughed Ludwig aside to Lambert, while Peter replied: KLEEF AND HIS BILL OF FARE 97 "Well, mine host, you may get the rooms ready by nine." "I have one beautiful chamber, with three beds, that will hold all your worships," said Mynheer Kleef coaxingly. "That will do." "Whew!" whistled Carl when they reached the street. Ludwig started. "What now?" "Nothing — only Mynheer Kleef of the Red Lion little thinks how we shall make things spin in that same room tonight — ^we'U set the bolsters flying 1" "Order!" cried the captain. "Now, boys, I must seek this great Doctor Boekman before I sleep. If he is in Leyden it wiU be no great task to find him, for he always puts up at the Golden Eagle when he comes here. I wonder that you did not aU go to bed at once — still, as you are awake, what say you to walking with Ben up by the Musevmi or the Stadhuis?" "Agreed," said Ludwig and Lambert; but Jacob pre- ferred to go with Peter. In vain Ben tried to persuade him to remain at the inn and rest. He declared that he never felt "petter," and wished of all things to take a look at the city, for it was his first "stop mit Leyden." "Oh, it will not harm him," said Lambert. "How long the day has been — and what glorious sport we have had. It hardly seems possible that we left Broek only this morning." Jacob yawned. "I have enjoyed it well," he said, "but it seems to me at least a week since we started." Carl laughed and muttered something about "twenty naps " "Here we are at the corner; remember, we aU meet at the Red Lion at eight," said the captain, as he and Jacob walked away. XVII THE BED UON BECOMES DAJSfGEKOUS THE boys were glad to find a blazing fire awaiting them upon their return to the Red Lion. Carl and his party were there first. Soon afterward Peter and Jacob came in. They had inquired in vain concerning Dr. Boekman. 'Ail they could ascertain was that he had been seen in Haarlem that morning. 'As for his being in Leyden," the landlord of the Golden Eagle had said to Peter, "the thing is impossible. He always lodges here when in town. By this time there would be a crowd at my door waiting to consult him — ^Bah! people make such fools of themselves!" "He is called a great surgeon," said Peter. "Yes, the greatest in Holland. But what of that? What of being the greatest pill-choker and knife-slasher in the world? The man is a bear. Only last month, on this very spot, he called me a pig, before three customers!" "No!" exclaimed Peter, trying to look surprised and in- dignant. "Yes, master — ^A pig/'' repeated the landlord, pufiing at his pipe with an injured air. "Bah! if he did not pay fine prices and bring customers to my house I would sooner see him in the Vhet Canal than ^v}& him lodgment." Perhaps mine host felt that he was speaking too openly 98 THE RED LION 99 to a stranger, or it may be he saw a smile lurking in Peter's face, for he added sharply: "Come, now, what more do you wish? Supper? Beds?" "No, mynheer; I am but searching for Dr. Boekman." "Go find him. He is not in Leyden." Peter was not to be put off so easily. After receiving a few more rough words, he succeeded in obtaining permis- sion to leave a note for the famous surgeon, or rather, he bought from his amiable landlord the privilege of writing it there, and a promise that it should be promptly delivered when Doctor Boekman arrived. This accomplished, Peter and Jacob returned to the Red Lion. This inn had once been a fine house, the home of a rich burgher, but, having grown old and shabby, it had passed through many hands until finally it had fallen into the pos- session of Mynheer Kleef. The public room on the ground floor was the landlord's joy and pride. If you will but open your mind's eye, you may look into the apartment. Imagine a large, bare room, with a floor that seemed to be made of squares cut out of glazed earthen pie-dishes, first a yellow piece, then a red, until the whole looked hke a vast checker-board. Fancy a dozen high-backed wooden chairs standing around; then a great hollow chimney-place all aglow with its blazing fire, reflected a hundred times in the polished steel firedogs; a tiled hearth, tiled sides, tiled top, with a Dutch sentence upon it; and over all, high above one's head, a narrow mantel-shelf, filled with shining brass candlesticks, pipe-lighters and tinder-boxes. Then see, in one end of the room, three pine tables; in the other, a closet and a deal dresser. The latter is fiUed with mugs, dishes, pipes, tankards, earthen and glass bottles, and is guarded at one end by a