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, Mynheer, I will earn more--I know
I will--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 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 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 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 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. Confound it,
shall I never forget that young scoundrel!" and, scowling more darkly
than ever, the doctor pursued 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 POOT AND HIS COUSIN
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 children's entreaties for an hour's skating before bedtime.
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 humor.
He had relieved himself by taunting young Schimmelpenninck 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, purposely 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 Schimmelpenninck, 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 bystanders and by-skaters set up an applauding 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 features at first; but as he was the stoutest boy in the
neighborhood there could be no mistaking his form.
"Hola! 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
Poot and his friend drew near.
"This is my cousin, boys," said Jacob, rather out of breath--"Benjamin
Dobbs. He's a John Bull and he's going to be in the race."
All crowded, boy-fashion, about the newcomers. 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 conversation 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 _ja_, yes; and _spoorweg_, railway;
_kanaals_, canals; _stoomboot_, steamboat; _ophaalbruggen_, drawbridges;
_buiten plasten_, country seats; _mynheer_, "mister;" _tweegevegt_, duel
or _two-fights_; _koper_, copper; _zadel_, saddle; but he could not
make a sentence out of these, nor use the long list of phrases he had
learned in his "Dutch dialogues." The topics of the latter were fine,
but were never alluded to by the boys. Like the poor fellow who had
learned in Ollendorf to ask in faultless German "have you seen my
grandmother's red cow?" and when he reached Germany discovered that he
had no occasion to inquire after that interesting animal, Ben found that
his book-Dutch did not avail him as much as he had hoped. He acquired a
hearty contempt for Jan van Gorp, a Hollander who wrote a book in Latin
to prove that Adam and Eve spoke Dutch; and he smiled a knowing smile
when his uncle Poot assured him that Dutch "had great likeness mit
Zinglish but it vash much petter languish, much petter."
However, the fun of skating glides 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 English for 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 _was_ a grand one, and there was to be a fine opportunity
for carrying it out; for, besides the allotted holiday of the Festival
of Saint Nicholas, four extra days were to be allowed for a general
cleaning of the schoolhouse.
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![15]
[Footnote 15: Throughout this narrative distances are given according to
our standard, the English statute mile of 5280 ft. The Dutch mile is
more than four times as long as ours.]
"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 shaking 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
understand. "Ha! ha!"--and the good-natured Jacob laughed more than any.
"It ish my fat--yaw--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, will be delighted to see us; and the next
morning we can start for home."
"All right!" responded Jacob, who was not much of a talker.
Ludwig had been regarding his brother with enthusiastic admiration.
"Hurrah for you, Pete! It takes you to make plans! Mother'll be as full
of it as we are when we tell 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 shoulders. 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 couldn't go?"
"I know it's an extra cold night anyhow," said Ludwig. "Whew! I'm going
home!"
Peter van Holp took out a bulgy gold watch, and holding it toward the
moonlight as well as his benumbed fingers would permit, called out:
"Hollo! it's nearly eight o'clock! Saint Nicholas is about by this time,
and I, for one, want to see the little ones stare. Good-night!"
"Good-night!" cried one and all,--and off they started, shouting,
singing, and laughing as they flew along.
Where were Gretel and Hans?
Ah! how suddenly joy sometimes comes to an end!
They had skated about an hour, keeping aloof from the others--quite
contented with each other, and Gretel had exclaimed, "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.
IX
THE FESTIVAL OF SAINT NICHOLAS
We all know how, before the Christmas tree began to flourish in the
home-life of our country, a certain "right jolly old elf," with "eight
tiny reindeer," used to drive his sleigh-load of toys up to our
housetops, 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 intimate ventured to say "Old Nick." It was said
that he originally 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 Nicholas 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, then 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 expectation. 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 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 boys hastened to their abodes on that bright winter
evening, for in less than an hour afterward, the saint made his
appearance in half the homes of Holland. He visited the king's palace
and in the selfsame moment appeared in Annie Bouman's comfortable home.
Probably one of our silver half dollars would have purchased all that
his saintship left at the peasant Bouman's; but a half-dollar's worth
will sometimes do for the poor what hundreds of dollars may fail to do
for the rich; it makes them happy and grateful, fills them with new
peace and love.
Hilda van Gleck's little 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. Why not? Saint Nicholas would never
cross a girl of fourteen from his list, just because she was tall and
looked almost like a woman. On the contrary, he would probably exert
himself to do honor to such an august looking damsel. Who could tell? So
she sported and laughed and danced as gaily as the youngest, and was the
soul of all their merry games. Father, mother and grandmother looked on
approvingly; so did grandfather, before he spread his large red
handkerchief over his face, leaving only the top of his skullcap
visible. This kerchief was his ensign of sleep.
Earlier in the evening all had joined in the fun. In the general
hilarity, there had seemed to be a difference only in bulk between
grandfather and the baby. Indeed a shade of solemn expectation now and
then flitting across the faces of the younger members, had made them
seem rather more thoughtful than their elders.
Now the spirit of fun reigned supreme. The very flames danced and
capered in the polished grate. A pair of prim candles that had been
staring at the Astral lamp began to wink at other candles far away in
the mirrors. There was a long bell-rope suspended from the ceiling in
the corner, made of glass beads netted over a cord nearly as thick as
your wrist. It generally hung in the shadow and made no sign; but
to-night it twinkled from end to end. Its handle of crimson glass sent
reckless dashes of red at the papered wall turning its dainty blue
stripes into purple. Passers-by halted to catch the merry laughter
floating, through curtain and sash, into the street, then skipped on
their way with a startled consciousness that the village was wide awake.
At last matters grew so uproarious that the grandsire's red kerchief
came down from his face with a jerk. What decent old gentleman could
sleep in such a racket! 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. With his lace and embroideries, and his crown of blue
ribbon and whalebone (for he was not quite past the tumbling age) he
looked like the king of the babies.
The other children, each holding a pretty willow 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:
"Welcome, friend! Saint Nicholas, welcome!
Bring no rod for us, to-night!
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--
Thou shalt tell us everything!
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 toward the polished folding doors. Now a loud knocking was
heard. The circle was broken in an instant. Some of the little ones,
with a strange mixture of fear and delight, pressed against their
mother's knee. Grandfather bent forward, with his chin resting upon his
hand; grandmother lifted her spectacles; Mynheer van Gleck, seated by
the fireplace, slowly drew his meerschaum from his mouth, while Hilda
and the other children settled themselves beside him in an expectant
group.
The knocking was heard again.
"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! what kindliness
in his tones!
"Karel van Gleck, I am pleased 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, since I last accosted
ye. Diedrich was rude at the Haarlem fair last Fall, but he has tried to
atone for it since. Mayken has failed of late in her lessons, and too
many sweets and trifles have gone to her lips, and too few stivers 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 feeling 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 school mistress may one day
be discovered and receive a flogging----"
[Illustration: _The door slowly opened_]
[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 thyself in the archery match last
Spring, and hit the Doel[16], though the bird was swung before it to
unsteady thine eye. I give thee credit 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.
[Footnote 16: Bull's-Eye.]
"Lucretia and Hilda shall have a blessed sleep to-night. 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 myself well content. Goodness, 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. To-morrow 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 tumbled over each other in their eagerness to fill their
baskets. Madame cautiously 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 hidden 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, inwardly, that the
cat should never know another moment's grief.
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 contents. The rest chuckled and said "Oh!"
and "Ah!" over their treasures, very much as we did here in America on
last Christmas day.
With her glittering necklace in her hands, and a pile of books in her
arms, Hilda stole toward 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 blessing 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."
"Aye, sweetheart," said Mynheer, "you cannot do better. There is no one
like Father Cats. If my daughter learns his 'MORAL EMBLEMS' by heart,
the mother and I may keep silent. The work you have there is the
Emblems--his best work. You will find it enriched with rare engravings
from Van de Venne."
[Considering that the back of the book was turned away, Mynheer
certainly showed a surprising familiarity with an unopened volume,
presented by Saint Nicholas. It was strange, too, that the saint should
have found certain things made by the elder children, and had actually
placed them upon the table, labeled with parents' and grandparents'
names. But all were too much absorbed in happiness to notice slight
inconsistencies. Hilda saw, on her father's face, the rapt expression he
always wore when he spoke of Jacob Cats, so she put her armful of books
upon the table and resigned herself to listen.]