COPYRIGHT 1865, 1875, 1893, 1896, BY MARY MAPES DODGE COPYRIGHT 1915, BY CHARLES SCRTBNER'S SONS Published September 1915 ^f + ' 335804 GRETEL'S NEW SKATES PREFACE THE story of Hans Brinker, or of any boy born and bred in Holland, cannot be fitly told without including something of the story of Holland itself, of its history, its oddities, and the leading characteristics of its heroic and thrifty people. All these must be borne in mind, for some of the traits peculiar to his race are ingrained in every Hollander, young or old, and Holland is as dif- ferent from Elsewhere as can be imagined. Therefore, necessary and careful descriptions of Dutch life and customs have been given in the narrative, and many of the incidents are drawn directly from life. Even the wonderful experiences of Raff Brinker are founded strictly upon fact. While acknowledging my obligations to many well- known writers on Dutch history, literature and art, I turn with especial gratitude to two kind friends, natives of Holland, who, after their marriage, had taken up their abode in this country. With generous zeal, they patiently answered questions, and took many a backward glance at their country for my sake, seeing it as it looked, years ago, when the humble home of the Brinkers crouched by the sheltering dike in sunlight and shadow. It was my tardy good fortune to visit Holland not long after this book was written, and see with my own eyes the land I had tried to picture for my readers. The viii PREFACE Brinker cottage was empty, and many things in Holland had changed since the days when Hans and his little sister skated on the frozen "Y." But, to my joy, every detail of the earlier picture of the country was verified. Holland was still wonderful, in fact, more wonderful; for time only increased the marvel of its not being washed away by the sea. Its cities have grown, and, in some of them, national costumes have given place to the conventional European dress of the day. A few of its peculiarities have been brushed away by contact with other nations; but it is Holland still, and always will be; full of oddity, courage and industry, the pluckiest little country on earth. M. M. D. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. HANS AND GRETEL 3 II. HOLLAND 9 III. THE SILVER SKATES 20 IV. HANS AND GRETEL FIND A FRIEND .... 27 V. SHADOWS IN THE HOME 36 VI. SUNBEAMS 45 VII. HANS HAS HIS WAY 51 VIII. INTRODUCING JACOB FOOT AND HIS COUSIN . . 56 IX. THE FESTIVAL OF ST. NICHOLAS 64 X. WHAT THE BOYS SAW AND DID IN AMSTERDAM . 75 XL BIG MANIAS AND LITTLE ODDITIES .... 87 XII. ON THE WAY TO HAARLEM 97 XIII. A CATASTROPHE 102 XIV. HANS 107 XV. HOMES 114 XVI. HAARLEM THE BOYS HEAR VOICES .... 123 XVII. THE MAN WITH FOUR HEADS 131 XVIII. FRIENDS IN NEED 138 XIX. ON THE CANAL 147 XX. JACOB FOOT CHANGES THE PLAN 155 XXI. MYNHEER KLEEF AND HIS BILL OF FARE . . 165 XXII. THE RED LION BECOMES DANGEROUS .... 169 XXIII. BEFORE THE COURT 184 XXIV. THE BELEAGUERED CITIES 189 XXV. LEYDEN 197 tz x CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE XXVI. THE PALACE AND THE WOOD 205 XXVII. THE MERCHANT PRINCE AND THE PRINCESS . . 209 XXVIII. THROUGH THE HAGUE 225 XXIX. A DAY OF REST . . 234 XXX. HOMEWARD BOUND 238 XXXI. BOYS AND GIRLS 243 XXXII. THE CRISIS 251 XXXIII. GRETEL AND HILDA 260 XXXIV. THE AWAKENING 269 XXXV. BONES AND TONGUES 273 XXXVI. A NEW ALARM 278 XXXVII. THE FATHER'S RETURN 284 XXXVIII. THE THOUSAND GUILDERS 290 XXXIX. GLIMPSES 297 XL. LOOKING FOR WORK 302 XLI. THE FAIRY GODMOTHER 309 XLII. THE MYSTERIOUS WATCH 316 XLIII. A DISCOVERY 326 XLIV. THE RACE 336 XLV. JOY IN THE COTTAGE 356 XLVI. THE MYSTERY OF THOMAS HIGGS 366 XLVII. BROAD SUNSHINE 370 CONCLUSION 377 ILLUSTRATIONS Gretel's new skates Frontispiece FACING FACE There was the rich burgomaster's daughter, Hilda van Gleck . 24 The door slowly opened; and St. Nicholas, in full array, stood before them 70 The Aanspreeker 124 Poor frightened Gretel ! She was not thinking of them, though their merry laughter floated lightly toward her 262 "I have kept it ever since, father" 288 Finding the long-lost treasure 314 " You may believe him there," cried the dame. ... " Hans is like a rock, when once he decides" 374 HANS BRINKER OR THE SILVER SKATES HANS AND GRETEL ON a bright December morning long ago, two poorly 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 morning 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 upon her head, came skimming over the glassy surface of the canal; or a lusty boy skating to his day's work in the town, cast a good-natured grimace toward the shivering pair as he flew along. Meanwhile, with many a vigorous puff and pull, the brother and sister, for such they were, seemed to be fast- ening something upon their feet, not skates, certainly, but clumsy pieces of wood narrowed and smoothed at 4 : HANS DRINKER their lower edge, and pierced with holes, 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 hour upon the ice; and now, as with cold, red fingers, our young Hollanders tugged at the strings, their solemn faces bending closely over their knees, no vision of impossible iron runners came to dull the satisfaction glowing 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 his 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, then," answered Hans, as, with- out looking at her, he performed a wonderful cat's-cradle step on the ice. "How can I ? The string is too short." Giving vent to a good-natured Dutch whistle, the English of which was, that girls were troublesome crea- tures, he steered toward her. "You are foolish to wear such shoes, Gretel, when you have a stout leather pair. Your klompen 1 would be bet- ter than these." 1 Wooden shoes. HANS AND GRETEL 5 "Why, Hans ! Do you forget ? The father threw my beautiful new shoes in the fire. Before I knew what he had done, they were all curled up in the midst of the burning peat. I can skate with these, but not with my ^yooden 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'll fix it, never fear," he said with sudden tender- ness; "but we must be quick. The mother will 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 aching foot. "Now," he cried triumphantly, at the same time ar- ranging the strings as briskly as his benumbed fingers would allow, "can you bear some pulling?*' 6 HANS BRINKER 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. It settles itself upon the water in a determined kind of way; and, so far from growing thin and uncertain every time the sun is a little severe upon it, it gathers its forces day by day, and flashes defiance to every beam. Presently squeak, squeak ! sounded something beneath Hans' feet. Next his strokes grew shorter, ending oft- times with a jerk, and, finally, he lay sprawling upon the ice, kicking against the air with many a fantastic flourish. "Ha, ha!" laughed Gretel, "that was a fine tumble." But a tender heart was beating under her coarse blue jacket; and, even as she laughed, she came, with a graceful sweep, close to her prostrate brother. "Are you hurt, Hans ? Oh, you are laughing ! Catch me now!" And she darted away, shivering no longer, but with 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 had travelled 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 Hans. HANS AND GRETEL 7 "Ha, ha! I caught you" she retorted, struggling to free herself. A boy and a girl whom they knew came skating toward them. Just then a voice was heard calling, "Hans ! Gretel I" "It's the mother," said Hans, looking solemn in an instant. By this time the canal was gilded with sunlight. The pure morning air was very delightful, and skaters were gradually increasing in numbers. It was hard to obey the summons. But Gretel and Hans were good children. Without a thought of yielding to the temptation to linger, they pulled off their skates, leaving half the knots still tied. Hans, with his great square shoulders, and bushy yellow hair, towered high above his blue-eyed little sister, as they trudged homeward. He was fifteen years old, and Gretel was only twelve. He was a solid, hearty-looking boy, with honest eyes, and a brow that seemed to bear a sign, "goodness within," just as the little Dutch zomerhuis 1 wears a motto over its portal. Gretel was lithe and quick. Her eyes had a dancing light in them; and, while you looked at her cheek, 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 were near their parents' cottage. Their mother's tall form, arrayed in jacket and petticoat and close-fitting 1 Summer-house. 8 HANS DRINKER 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 flat country, every ob- ject stands out plainly in the distance: the chickens show as distinctly as the windmills. Indeed, were it not for the dikes, and the high banks of the canals, one could stand almost anywhere in Middle Holland with- out seeing a mound or a ridge between the eye and the "jumping-ofF place." None had better cause to know the nature of these same dikes than Dame Brinker and the panting young- sters now running at her call. But, before stating why, let me ask you to take a rocking-chair trip with me to that far country, where you may see, perhaps for the first time, some curious things that Hans and Gretel saw every day. II HOLLAND HOLLAND is one of the queerest countries under the sun. It should be called Odd-land or Contrary-land; for in nearly everything it is different from other parts of the world. In the first place, a large portion of the country is lower than the level of the sea. Great dikes, or bulwarks, have been erected, at a heavy cost of money and labor, to keep the ocean where it belongs. On cer- tain parts of the coast, it sometimes leans with all its weight against the land; and it is as much as the poor country can do to stand the pressure. Sometimes the dikes give way, or spring a leak, and the most disastrous results ensue. They are high and wide; and the tops of some of them are covered with buildings and trees. They have even fine public roads upon them, from which horses may look down upon wayside cottages. Often the keels of floating ships are higher than the roofs of the dwellings. The stork clattering to her young on the house-peak may feel that her nest is lifted far out of 9 io HANS DRINKER danger; but the croaking frog in neighboring bulrushes is nearer the stars than she. Water-bugs dart backward and forward above the heads of the chimney-swallows; and willow-trees seem drooping with shame, because they cannot reach as high as the reeds near by. Ditches, canals, ponds, rivers and lakes are everywhere to be seen. High, but not dry, they shine in the sun- light, catching nearly all the bustle and the business, quite scorning the tame fields stretching damply beside them. One is tempted to ask, "Which is Holland, the shores, or the water?" The very verdure that should be confined to the land has made a mistake, and settled upon the fish-ponds. In fact, the entire country is a kind of saturated sponge, or, as the English poet Butler called it, "A land that rides at anchor, and is moored; In which they do not live, but go aboard." Persons are born, live, and die, and even have their gardens, on canal-boats. Farmhouses, with roofs like great slouched hats pulled over their eyes, stand on wooden legs with a tucked-up sort of air, as if to say, "We intend to keep dry if we can." Even the horses wear a wide stool on each hoof to lift them out of the mire. In short, the landscape everywhere suggests a paradise for ducks. It is a glorious country in summer for barefooted girls and boys. Such wadings ! such mimic ship-sailing! such rowing, fishing and swim- HOLLAND ii ming ! Only think of a chain of puddles, where one can launch chip boats all day long, and never make a return trip ! But enough. A full recital would set all young America rushing in a body toward the Zuyder- Zee. Dutch cities seem at first sight to be a bewildering jungle of houses, bridges, churches and ships, sprouting into masts, steeples and trees. In some cities, vessels are hitched, like horses, to their owners' door-posts, and receive their freight from the upper windows. Mothers scream to Lodewyk and Kassy not to swing on the garden-gate, for fear they may be drowned. Water- roads are more frequent there than common roads and rail- ways. Water-fences, in the form of lazy green ditches, enclose pleasure-ground, polder and garden. Sometimes fine green hedges are seen; but wooden fences, such as we have in America, are rarely met with in Holland. As for stone fences, a Dutchman would lift his hands with astonishment at the very idea. There is no stone there, excepting those great masses of rock that have been brought from other lands to strengthen and protect the coast. All the small stones or pebbles, if there ever were any, seem to be imprisoned in pave- ments, or quite melted away. Boys with strong, quick arms may grow from pinafores to full beards, without ever finding one to start the water-rings, or set the rab- bits flying. The water-roads are nothing less than canals intersecting the country in every direction. These are 12 HANS BRINKER of all sizes, from the great North Holland Ship Canal, which is the wonder of the world, to those which a boy can leap. Water-omnibuses, called trekschuiteny 1 con- stantly ply up and down these roads for the conveyance of passengers; and water-drays, called pakschuyten, 1 are used for carrying fuel and merchandise. Instead of green country lanes, green canals stretch from field to barn, and from barn to garden; and the farms, or pol- ders, as they are termed, are merely great lakes pumped dry. Some of the busiest streets are water; while many of the country roads are paved with brick. The city boats, with their rounded sterns, gilded prows and gayly painted sides, are unlike any others under the sun; and a Dutch wagon, with its funny little crooked pole, is a perfect mystery of mysteries. "One thing is clear," cries Master Brightside, "the in- habitants need never be thirsty." But, no, Odd-land is true to itself still. Notwithstanding the sea pushing to get in, and the lakes struggling to get out, and the over- flowing canals, rivers and ditches, in many districts there is no water fit to swallow: our poor Hollanders must go dry, or drink wine and beer, or send far into the inland. 1 Canal-boats. Some of the first-named are over thirty feet long. They look like greenhouses lodged on barges, and are drawn by horses walking along the bank of the canal. The trekschuiten are divided into two compartments, first and second class; and, when not too crowded, the passengers make them- selves quite at home in them: the men smoke, the women knit or sew, while children play upon the small outer deck. Many of the canal-boats have white, yellow or chocolate-colored sails. This last color is caused by a preparation of tan, which is put on to preserve them. HOLLAND 13 to Utrecht and other favored localities, for that precious fluid older than Adam, yet young as the morning dew. Sometimes, indeed, the inhabitants can swallow a shower, when they are provided with any means of catching it; but generally they are like the albatross-haunted sailors in Coleridge's famous poem of "The Ancient Mariner": they see "Water, water, everywhere, Nor any drop to drink!" Great flapping windmills all over the country make it look as if flocks of huge sea-birds were just settling upon it. Everywhere one sees the funniest trees, bobbed into fantastical shapes, with their trunks painted a dazzling white, yellow or red. Horses are often yoked three abreast. Men, women and children go clattering about in wooden shoes with loose heels; peasant-girls who can- not get beaux for love, hire them for money, to escort them to the kermis; 1 and husbands and wives lovingly harness themselves side by side on the bank of the canal, and drag their pakschuyts to market. Another peculiar feature of Holland is the "dune/* or sand-hill. These are numerous along certain portions of the coast. Before they were sown with coarse reed- grass and other plants, to hold them down, they used to send great storms of sand over the inland. So, to add to the oddities, farmers sometimes dig down under the surface to find their soil; and on windy days dry showers 1 Fair. 14 HANS BRINKER (of sand) often fall upon fields that have grown wet under a week of sunshine ! In short, almost the only familiar thing we Yankees can meet with in Holland is a harvest-song, which is quite popular there, though no linguist could translate it. Even then, we must shut our eyes, and listen only to the tune, which I leave you to guess. "Yanker didee dudel down Didee dudel lawnter; Yankee viver, voover, vown, Botermelk und Tawnter!" On the other hand, many of the oddities of Holland serve only to prove the thrift and perseverance of the people. There is not a richer or more carefully tilled garden-spot in the whole world than this leaky, springy, little country. There is not a braver, more heroic race than its quiet, passive-looking inhabitants. Few nations have equalled it in important discoveries and inventions; none has excelled it in commerce, navigation, learning and science, or set as noble examples in the promotion of education and public charities; and none, in propor- tion to its extent, has expended more money and labor upon public works. Holland has its shining annals of noble and illustrious men and women, its grand historic records of patience, resistance and victory, its religious freedom, its enlight- ened enterprise, its art, its music and its literature. It has truly been called "the battle-field of Europe:" as HOLLAND 15 truly may we consider it the asylum of the world; for the oppressed of every nation have there found shelter and encouragement. If we Americans many of us surely of Holland stock can laugh at the Dutch, and call them human beavers, and hint that their country may float off any day at high tide, we can also know that they have proved themselves heroes, and that their country will not float off while there is a Dutchman left to grapple it. There are said to be at least ninety-nine hundred large windmills in Holland, with sails ranging from eighty to one hundred and twenty feet long. They are employed in sawing timber, beating hemp, grinding, and many other kinds of work; but their principal use is for pump- ing water from the lowlands into the canals, and for guarding against the inland freshets that so often deluge the country. Their yearly cost is said to be nearly ten millions of dollars. The large ones are of great power. Their huge, circular tower, rising sometimes from the midst of factory buildings, is surmounted with a smaller one, tapering into a caplike roof. This upper tower is encircled at its base with a balcony, high above which juts the axis, turned by its four prodigious ladder-backed sails. Many of the windmills are primitive affairs, seeming sadly in need of Yankee "improvements;" but some of the new ones are admirable. They are so constructed that, by some ingenious contrivance, they present their 16 HANS BRINKER fans, or wings, to the wind in precisely the right direction to work with the requisite power. In other words, the miller may take a nap, and feel quite sure that his mill will study the wind, and make the most of it, until he wakens. Should there be but a slight current of air, every sail will spread itself to catch the faintest breath; but, if a heavy "blow" should come, they will shrink at its touch, like great mimosa-leaves, and only give it half a chance to move them. One of the old prisons of Amsterdam, called the "Rasp- house," because the thieves and vagrants who were con- fined there were employed in rasping logwood, had a cell for the punishment of lazy prisoners. In one corner of this cell was a pump, and in another an opening, through which a steady stream of water was admitted. The pris- oner could take his choice, either to stand still and be drowned; or to work for dear life at the pump, and keep the rising flood down until relieved. Now, it seems to me that, throughout Holland, Nature has introduced this little diversion on a grand scale. The Dutch always have been forced to pump for their very existence, and probably must continue to do so to the end of time. Every year millions of dollars are spent in repairing dikes and regulating water-levels. If these important duties were neglected, the country would be uninhabita- ble. Already dreadful consequences, as I have said, have followed the bursting of these dikes. Hundreds of vil- lages and towns have, from time to time, been buried HOLLAND 17 beneath the rush of waters; and nearly a million of per- sons have been destroyed. One of the most fearful in- undations ever known occurred in the autumn of the year 1570. Twenty-eight terrible floods had before that time overwhelmed portions of Holland; but this was the most terrible of all. The unhappy country had long been suffering under Spanish tyranny; now, it seemed, came the crowning point of its troubles. When we read Motley's "Rise of the Dutch Republic/' we learn to re- vere the brave people who have endured, suffered and dared so much. Mr. Motley, in his thrilling account of the great inun- dation, tells us how a long-continued and violent gale had been sweeping the Atlantic waters into the North Sea, piling them against the coasts of the Dutch prov- inces; how the dikes, tasked beyond their strength, burst in all directions; how even the hand-boss, a bulwark formed of oaken piles, braced with iron, moored with heavy anchors, and secured by gravel and granite, was snapped to pieces like packthread; how fishing-boats and bulky vessels, floating up into the country, became entangled among the trees, or beat in the roofs and walls of dwellings; and how, at last, all Friesland was con- verted into an angry sea. Multitudes of men, women, children, of horses, oxen, sheep, and every domestic animal, were struggling in the waves in every direction. Every boat and every article which could serve as a boat was eagerly seized upon. Every house was inundated: i8 HANS BRINKER even the graveyards gave up their dead. The living in- fant in his cradle and the long-buried corpse in his coffin floated side by side. The ancient flood seemed about to be renewed. Everywhere upon the tops of trees, upon the steeples of churches human beings were clustered, praying to God for mercy, and to their fellow-men for assistance. As the storm at last was subsiding, boats began to ply in every direction, saving those who were struggling in the water, picking fugitives from roofs and tree-tops, and collecting the bodies of those already drowned. No less than one hundred thousand human beings had perished in a few hours. Thousands upon thousands of dumb creatures lay dead upon the waters; and the damage to property was beyond calculation. Robles, the Spanish governor, was foremost in noble efforts to save life, and lessen the horrors of the catas- trophe. He had formerly been hated by the Dutch, be- cause of his Spanish or Portuguese blood; but, by his goodness and activity in their hour of disaster, he won all hearts to gratitude. He soon introduced an improved method of constructing the dikes, and passed a law that they should in future be kept up by the owners of the soil. There were fewer heavy floods from this time; though, within less than three hundred years, six fearful inunda- tions swept over the land. In the spring there is always great danger of inland freshets, especially in times of thaw, because the rivers, choked with blocks of ice, overflow before they can dis- HOLLAND 19 charge their rapidly rising waters into the ocean. Add to this the sea chafing and pressing against the dikes and it is no wonder that Holland is often in a state of alarm. The greatest care is taken to prevent accidents. Engi- neers and workmen are stationed all along in threatened places; and a close watch is kept up night and day. When a general signal of danger is given, the inhabitants all rush to the rescue, eager to combine against their common foe. As, everywhere else, straw is supposed to be of all things the most helpless in the water, of course in Holland it must be rendered the mainstay against a rushing tide. Huge straw mats are pressed against the embankments, fortified with clay and heavy stone; and, once adjusted, the ocean dashes against them in vain. Raff Brinker, the father of Gretel and Hans, had for years been employed upon the dikes. It was at the time of a threatened inundation, when in the midst of a ter- rible storm, in darkness and sleet, the men were laboring at a weak spot near the Veermyk sluice, that he fell from the scaffolding, and 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, cheerful-voiced father, who was never tired of bearing him upon his shoulder, and whose careless song still seemed echoing near when he lay awake at night and listened. Ill THE SILVER 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 down the canal, and had occasionally been harnessed with other women to the towing-rope of a pakschuyt plying between Broek and Amsterdam. But when Hans had grown strong and large, he had insisted upon doing all such drudgery in her place. Besides, her husband had be- come so very helpless of late that he required her con- stant care. Although he had not as much intelligence as a little child, he was yet strong of arm and very hearty; and Dame Brinker had sometimes great trouble in controlling him. When Hans was in the cottage, or some kind-hearted passer-by came to her assistance on hearing a noise within, the poor vrouw could get on very well; but, when she was alone, it was a different matter. "Ah, children ! he was so good and steady," she would sometimes say, "and as wise as a lawyer. Even the 20 THE SILVER SKATES 21 burgomaster would stop to ask him a question; and now, alack ! he doesn'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 anything 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 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 whir of her spin- ning-wheel. Nearly all 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 stivers 1 a day; and Gretel tended 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 1 A stiver is worth about two cents of our money. 22 HANS BRINKER 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 schoolhouse would set her eyes swimming. Hans, on the contrary, 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: "Leer, leer ! jou luigaart, of dit endje touw zal je leeren !" l 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. RafF Brinker required constant attention; and there was black-bread to be 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 skimming 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 1 "Learn, learn, you idler! or this rope's end shall teach you." THE SILVER SKATES 23 had suddenly thawed, and some gay tulip-bed were float- ing along on the current. There was the rich burgomaster's daughter, Hilda van Gleck, with her costly furs and loose-fitting velvet sack; and near by a pretty peasant-girl, Annie Bouman, jaunt- ily 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 Korbes, whose father, Mynheer van Korbes, was one of the lead- ing men of Amsterdam; and, flocking closely around her, Carl Schummel, Peter and Ludwig 1 van Holp, Jacob Foot, and a very small boy, rejoicing in the tremendous 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. Up and down the canal, within the space of a half- mile, they skated, exerted their racing powers to the ut- most. Often the swiftest among them was seen to dodge from under the very nose of some pompous law-giver or doctor, who, with folded arms, was skating leisurely to- ward the town; or a chain of girls would suddenly break at the approach of a fat old burgomaster, who, with gold-headed cane poised in air, was puffing his way to Amsterdam. Equipped in skates wonderful to behold, from their superb strappings, and dazzling runners curving toward the instep and topped with gilt balls, 1 Ludwig, Gretel and Carl were named after German friends. The Dutch form would be Lodewyk, Grietje and KareL 24 HANS BRINKER . he would open his fat eyes a little if one of the maidens chanced to drop him a courtesy, but would not dare to bow in return, for fear of losing his balance. Not only pleasure-seekers and stately men of note were upon the canal. There were work-people, with weary eyes, hastening to their shops and factories; mar- ket-women with loads upon their heads; peddlers bend- ing with their packs; bargemen, with shaggy hair and bleared faces, jostling roughly on their way; kind-eyed clergymen speeding perhaps to the bedsides of the dying; and, after a while, groups of children, with satchels slung over their shoulders, whizzing past toward the distant school. One and all wore skates, excepting, indeed, a muffled-up farmer, whose queer cart bumped along on the margin of the canal. Before long our merry boys and girls were almost lost in the confusion of bright colors, the ceaseless motion and the gleaming of skates flashing back the sunlight. We might have known no more of them, had not the whole party suddenly come 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 flowing toward the town. "O 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." THERE WAS THE RICH BURGOMASTER'S DAUGHTER, HILDA VAN GLECK THE SILVER SKATES 25 Every one panted and looked at Rychie Korbes, who was their acknowledged spokeswoman. "Why," said Rychie, "we are to have a grand skat- ing-match on the 2Oth, on Mevrouw 1 van deck's birth- day. 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 I 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 Schimmelpenninck 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 young- sters in a breath. 1 Mrs., or madame (pronounced meffrow). 26 HANS DRINKER 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 will 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 me!" darted off toward the school- house, standing half a mile away on the canal. All started pell-mell 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 emotion, what wonder thine image, ever floating 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 ! IV HANS AND GRETEL FIND A FRIEND AT noon our young friends poured forth frem the schoolhouse, intent upon having an hour's practising upon the canal. They had skated but a few moments when Carl Schum- mel said mockingly to Hilda, "There's a pretty pair just coming upon the ice ! The little rag-pickers ! Their skates must have been a pres- ent 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 to your new staccato piece, I think." Hilda laughed pleasantly, and left him. After join- ing a small detachment of the racers, and sailing past 27 28 HANS DRINKER every one of them, she halted beside Gretel, who, with eager eyes, had been watching the sport. "What is your 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." "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 four- teen, and so large of 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, jujvrouw? to think of it." "No, no!" answered Hilda, quite angry at herself. "I am careless, cruel; but I meant no harm. I wanted 1 Miss, young lady (pronounced yuffrow). In studied or polite address, it would be jugorowe (pronounced youngfrow). HANS AND GRETEL FIND A FRIEND 29 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, no, no!" laughed Hilda, shaking off her embar- rassment. "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 skate only a few strokes with the rest. Our skates are hard wood, 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 eight kwartjes 1 left; and they would buy but one pair of skates, at the furthest. 1 A kwartje is a small silver coin worth one-quarter of a guilder, or ten cents in American currency. 30 HANS DRINKER Looking down with a sigh at the two pairs 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 are eight kwartjes. 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-by!" And, with a nod and a smile, Hilda, after handing the money to the elec- trified Hans, glided swiftly away to rejoin her com- panions. "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 untied. Hilda turned, and, with one hand raised to shield her eyes 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 your 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. HANS AND GRETEL FIND A FRIEND 31 Carve me a chain, Hans, like the one your sister wears." "That I will, lady, with all my heart. We have whitewood in the house, fine as ivory. You shall have one to-morrow; " 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, out- stripping 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 faithful shadow, Gretel. "I must work hard every min- ute, 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 young lady!" cried Gretel, clapping her hands with delight. "O Hans! was it for nothing the stork settled on our roof last summer ? Do you remem- ber 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 to-morrow, you can buy the skates in the market-place." 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." 32 HANS BRINKER "Oh!" cried Gretel, in real dismay. "Not buy the skates. Why, I am not often cold. Mother says the blood runs up and down in poor children's veins, hum- ming, 'I must keep 'em warm; I must keep 'em warm!' "0 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 hor- ror 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 life had he longed so intensely for a pair of skates; for he had known of the race, and had, boylike, fairly ached for a chance to test his powers with the other children. He felt confident that, with a good pair of steel runners, he could readily 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 Korbes, or even Katrinka Flack. HANS AND GRETEL FIND A FRIEND 33 As soon as this last thought flashed upon him, his re- solve 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 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 young lady gave the money to you, Hans. I'd be real bad to take it." Hans shook his head resolutely as he trudged on, caus- ing 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, 7 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 pair: you stumbled 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 practise every chance you can get until the 2Oth comes. My little Gretel shall win the silver skates." 34 HANS DRINKER 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 cot- tage, Hans still shaking the pieces of silver in his hand. On the following day there was not a prouder nor a happier boy in all Holland than Hans Drinker, 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 had been given her by the kind-hearted Hilda; and the burst-out shoes had been cobbled into decency by Dame Drinker. As the little creature darted backward and forward, flushed with en- joyment, 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 fairy- land, while "Hans, dear, good Hans!" echoed itself over and over again in her grateful heart. "Dy 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 Ka- trinka Flack, after all." "Hush ! not so loud !" returned Carl, rather sneeringly. "That little lady in rags is the special pet of Hilda van Gleck. Those shining skates are her gift, if I make no mistake." HANS AND GRETEL FIND A FRIEND 35 "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 jump, 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 sud- den conviction that his little sister needed a wooden chain just like Hilda's. Two days afterward, on St. Nicholas Eve, Hans, hav- ing burned three candle-ends, and cut his thumb into the bargain, stood in the market-place at Amsterdam, buy- ing another pair of skates. SHADOWS IN THE HOME GOOD Dame Brinker ! As soon as the scanty dinner had been cleared away that noon, she had arrayed her- self in her holiday attire in honor of St. 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 children had sometimes been granted rare glimpses of it as it lay in state in the old oaken chest. Faded and threadbare as it was, it was gorgeous in their eyes, with its white linen tucker, now gathered to her plump throat, and vanishing beneath the trim bodice of blue homespun, and its red- dish brown skirt bordered with black. The knitted woollen 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 well-behaved as he gazed. 36 SHADOWS IN THE HOME 37 Soon the little maid, while braiding her own golden tresses, fairly danced around her mother in an ecstasy of admiration. "O mother, mother, mother! how pretty you are! Look, Hans! isn't it just like a picture?" "Just like a picture," assented Hans, cheerfully, "just like a picture; only I don't like those stocking things on the hands." "Not like the mitts, Brother Hans ! why, they're very important. See, they cover up all the red. O mother! how white your arm is where the mitt leaves off! it's whiter than mine, oh, ever so much whiter! I do de- clare, mother, the bodice is tight for you. You're grow- ing; you're surely growing!" "This was made long ago, lovey, when I was not much thicker about the waist than a churn-dasher," said Dame Brinker, adding, "And how do you like the cap ?" as she turned her head from side to side. "Oh, ever so much, mother !" said Gretel. "It's beau- tiful ! See, the father is looking!" Was the father looking ? Alas ! only with a dull stare. His vrouw turned toward him with a start, a question- ing sparkle in her eye. The bright 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." 3 8 HANS DRINKER "Ah, mother!" he answered, "you need many things. Why should I buy skates ?" "Nonsense, child ! The money was given to you on purpose, 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 to-night, if the mother lets us." At the very threshold he turned to say, "Your spin- ning-wheel wants a new treadle, mother." "You can make it, Hans." "So I can. That will take no money. But you need feathers and wool and meal, and " "There, there ! that will do. Your silver cannot buy everything. Ah, Hans ! if our stolen money would but come back on this bright St. 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 St. Nicholas. Tut ! It's a likely story if one can't do that, without 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 oppose her when her voice quickened and sharpened as it often did when she spoke of the missing money; so he said gently, "And what did you ask of good St. Nicholas, mother ?" SHADOWS IN THE HOME 39 "Why, never to 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 was hurt, as you well know, Hans." "That I do, mother," he answered sadly, "though you have almost pulled down the cottage in searching." "Ay; but it was of no use," moaned the dame. "'Riders make best finders/" Hans started. "Do you think the father could tell aught?" he asked mysteriously. "Ay, 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 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," mut- tered Hans, half to himself. Dame Brinker shook her head, and looked sadly to- ward 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 40 HANS DRINKER 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 lips to say more, Broom Klatterboost came flying in with word that the dike 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 dulness: 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 conquered 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 came to the boy's mind now; for, after giving a heavy sigh, and filliping a crumb of wax at Gretel across the table, he said, "Ay, 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!" exclaimed the dame, indignantly. "7 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 all, they might sus- pect the father " 4 SHADOWS IN THE HOME 41 Hans flushed angrily. "They would not dare to say such a thing, mother! If they did, I'd" He clinched his fist, and seemed to think that the rest of his sentence was too terrible to utter in her pres- ence. 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 hour the dear father might wake, and ask for it." "Might wake, mother!" echoed Hans, "wake and know us ?" "Ay, 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 unfinished knitting heavily upon her lap. "There is no chance. One thousand guilders and all gone in a day ! One thousand guilders ! Oh ! what ever did become of them ? 42 HANS DRINKER If they went in an evil way, the thief would have con- fessed 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 something 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 engineer work. The stocking went on filling with copper and silver, ay, 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 sometimes, 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 SHADOWS IN THE HOME 43 thank 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. 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 understood 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 44 HANS BRINKER it ? Alack ! he would pick at my sleeve, and whisper gibberish till my blood ran cold. At last, while Gretel lay whiter than snow, and you were raving on the bed, I screamed to him, it seemed as if he must hear me, 'Raff, where is our money ? Do you know aught of the money, Raff? the money in the pouch and the stock- ing, 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. VI SUNBEAMS DAME BRINKER was startled at her children's emotion, glad, too, for it proved how loving and true they were. Beautiful ladies in princely homes often smile sud- denly 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 brighten- ing, she hastily wiped her eyes, and looked upon them as only a mother can. "Hoity, toity! Pretty talk we're having, and St. Nicholas Eve almost here ! What wonder the yarn pricks my fingers! Come, Gretel, take this cent; 1 and, while Hans is trading for the skates, you can buy a waffle in the market-place." "Let me stay home with you, mother," said Gretel, 1 The Dutch cent is worth less than half of an American cent. 45 46 HANS BRINKER 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 was knitted (owning the yarn is a grain too sharp) to sell to the ho- sier on the Heireen Gracht. 1 That will give us three quarter-guilders, if you make good trade; and, as it's right hungry weather, you may buy four waffles. We'll keep the Feast of St. Nicholas, after all." Gretel clapped her hands. "That will be fine ! Annie Bouman told me what grand times they will have in the big houses to-night. But we shall be merry too. Hans will have beautiful new skates, and then there'll be the waffles ! 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. "O mother!" cried Gretel, in high glee, "soon you will be busied with the father, and now you are only knit- ting. Do tell us all about St. 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, throwing herself upon the wonderful wooden bench that 1 A street in Amsterdam. SUNBEAMS 47 her brother had made on the mother's last birthday. Hans, not wishing to appear childish, and yet quite will- ing 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 need not shut your fingers. St. Nicholas, you must know, is a wonderful 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." "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 kill the children, and take their money 48 HANS DRINKER 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 Drinker, knitting slowly, and trying to keep count of her stitches as she talked: "that was not near the worst of it. The dreadful landlord 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!" cried Gretel, horror-stricken, though she had often heard the story before. Hans still continued un- moved, 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 young gentlemen. Dut no. That night St. Nicholas had a wonderful vision; and in it he saw the landlord cutting up the merchant's children. There was no need of his hurrying, 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 beginning to end, and fell down on his knees, begging forgiveness. He felt so sorry for what he had done, that he asked the saint to bring the young masters to life." SUNBEAMS 49 "And did the saint do it?" asked Gretel, delighted, well knowing what the answer would be. "Of course he did. The pickled pieces flew together in a flash, and out jumped the young gentlemen from the brine-tub. They cast themselves at the feet of St. Nicholas, and he gave them his blessing and oh 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 lingered 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 1 from Amsterdam to see the father, some- thing might yet be done." 1 Doctor (dokter in Dutch) called meester by the lower class. 50 HANS BRINKER "A meester would not come, Hans, for twice that money; and it would do no good, if he did. Ah, 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." Hans started with a heavy heart; but since the heart was young, and in a 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. VII HANS HAS HIS WAY BROEK, with its quiet, spotless streets, its frozen riv- ulets, its yellow brick pavements, and bright wooden 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 peb- bles and sea-shells lay in fanciful designs. Every window- shutter was closed as tightly as though air and sun- shine were poison; and the massive front doors were never opened, except on the occasion of a wedding, a christening or a funeral. Serene clouds of tobacco-smoke were floating through hidden apartments; and children, who otherwise might have awakened the place, were studying in out-of-the- way corners, or skating upon the neighboring canal. A few peacocks and wolves stood in the gardens; but they had never enjoyed the luxury of flesh and blood. They were cut out in growing box, and seemed guarding the 51 52 HANS BRINKER grounds with a sort of green ferocity. Certain lively automata ducks, women and sportsmen were stowed away in summer-houses, waiting for the springtime, when they could be wound up, and rival their owners in animation; and the shining, tiled roofs, mosaic court- yards and polished house-trimmings, flashed up a silent homage to the sky, where never a speck of dust could dwell. Hans glanced toward the village, as he shook his silver kwartjes, 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 utensils of solid gold. He had seen Mevrouw van Stoop's sweet 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-quar- ters, were their tails really tied up with ribbons?" These thoughts ran through his mind as he turned his face toward Amsterdam, not five miles away, on the other side of the frozen Y. 1 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 fa- mous physician and surgeon in Holland ! Hans had never 1 Pronounced eye, an arm of the Zuyder-Zee. HANS HAS HIS WAY 53 met him before; but he had seen his engraved likeness in many of the shop-windows of Amsterdam. It was a face that one could never forget. Thin and lank, though a born Dutchman, with stern blue eyes, and queer, compressed lips, that seemed to say, "No smiling al- lowed," he certainly was not a very jolly 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," whis- pered the voice. "God has sent him. You have no right to buy skates, when you might, with the same money, purchase such aid for your father. " The wooden runners gave an exultant squeak. Hun- dreds 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 for- bidding. 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 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 54 HANS BRINKER 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 even think; and his words mean nothing. But he is not sick. He fell on the dikes." "Hey? what?" cried the doctor, beginning to listen. Hans told the whole story in an incoherent way, dash- ing off a tear once or twice as he talked, and finally end- ing 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, mynheer. I shall earn more, I know I shall. 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 bright- ness like sunlight beamed from his face. His eyes were kind and moist. The hand that had lately clutched his cane, as if preparing 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 sudden hope. "Ah ! a bad case. But I shall see him. Let me HANS HAS HIS WAY 55 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 only a poor, broken-down hut. Any of the chil- dren 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 will 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. Con- found it! shall I never forget that young scoundrel?" And, scowling more darkly than ever, the doctor pur- sued his silent way. Again Hans was skating toward Amsterdam, on the squeaking wooden runners; again his fingers tingled against the money in his pocket; again the boyish whistle rose unconsciously 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 think I'll go on !" And so Hans bought the skates. VIII INTRODUCING JACOB FOOT AND HIS COUSIN HANS and Gretel had a fine frolic early on that St. 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 children's entreaties for an hour's skating before bed-time. Hans was delighted with his new skates; and, in his eagerness 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 unheeded by the various groups assembled upon the canal. The two Van Holps and Carl Schummel were there, testing 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 56 JACOB FOOT AND HIS COUSIN 57 humor. He had relieved himself by taunting young Schimmelpennick, who, being smaller than the others, kept meekly near them, without feeling 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 young rag- pickers from the idiot's cottage joining the race. Hilda must be crazy to think of it. Katrinka Flack and Rychie 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 manhood 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 Schimmel- pennick, 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 ? 58 HANS BRINKER You skinny herring, you ! you little monkey with a long name for a tail!" Half a dozen bystanders and byskaters set up an ap- plauding shout at this brave witticism; and Carl, feel- ing that he had fairly vanquished his foes, was restored to partial good humor. He, however, prudently re- solved to defer plotting against Hans and Gretel until some time when Peter should not be present. Just then his friend Jacob Foot was seen approach- ing. They could not distinguish his features at first; but, as he was the stoutest boy in the neighborhood, there could be no mistaking his form. "Halloo! here comes Fatty!" exclaimed Carl. "And there's some one with him, a slender fellow, a stranger." "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 Voost, delighted at being able to give the information. "That's his English 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." All this time the boys had been spinning, turning, "rolling," 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 JACOB FOOT AND HIS COUSIN 59 breath, "Benjamin Dobbs. He's a John Bull; and he's going to be in the race." All crowded, boy-fashion, about the new-comers. Benjamin soon made up his mind that the Hollanders, notwithstanding their queer gibberish, were a fine set of fellows. If the truth must be told, Jacob had announced his cousin as "Penchamin Dopps," and called him a "Shon Pull;" but, as I translate every word of the conversa- tion of our young friends, it is no more than fair to mend their little attempts at English. Master Dobbs felt at first decidedly 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 funny blunders when he tried to converse in Dutch. He had learned that vrouw means "wife;" and/