The evening of the birthday party came. All of the Pieterses went,
leaving Walter to be taken care of by Leentje.
Juffrouw Laps was doing the honors.
"A strange state of affairs," said the birthday uncle. "And what did
she want?"
"Oh, goodness, M'neer, I don't know myself. I've told Gertrude a
hundred times that it's too much for me. Just imagine to yourself--such
a thing issuing commands in my house! I told Mina to pitch her out. And
Pietro said----"
"You ought to have seen me get hold of her," croaked that brave young
woman, showing a blue place on her hand. From this it might have been
inferred that Femke had had hold of Pietro.
"Just wait till she comes again," cried Gertrude, "and I will attend
to her!"
"And what will I do for her?" said Mina significantly.
Every one of them was ready for the fray. That is often the case. If
the vote had been taken now on moral worth, Femke would have been
defeated.
"A common girl, M'neer!"
"Worse than common!"
"How did you get rid of her?"
"Ah, it wasn't easy. I said----"
"No, mother, I said----"
"No, it was I!"
"But it was I!"
Each one of them had said something. Everyone wanted to play the
leading rÙle in the interesting drama.
"I would like to know where the young Mr. van der Gracht is," said
Juffrouw Laps. "Yes, uncle, it's a surprise----"
Juffrouw Pieterse did not like to be interrupted when she had something
to tell.
"And so we said--what did we say, Gertrude?"
"Mother, I said it was a disgrace."
"Yes, I said so, too. Then that thing asked for cold water, and
when we didn't get it quick enough for her, she ran and fetched it
herself--just as if she were at home! She wet a cloth and put it on
Walter's head. I was amazed at her insolence. When the child came to
she gave him a kiss! Think of it--and all of us standing there!"
"Yes," cried the three daughters, "think of it--and us standing there!"
"Then she sat down in front of the bed again and talked to him."
"Where can the young Mr. van der Gracht be!" sighed Juffrouw
Laps. "It's only because we have a little surprise, uncle."
"And finally she went away like a princess!"
"Exactly like a princess," testified the girls; and they did not know
that they were telling the truth.
"And she told Walter she would come again. But I just want to see
her do it!"
The door-bell rang. Juffrouw Laps arose; and the catechist van der
Gracht with his son walked into the room. Juffrouw Pieterse didn't
like this; she felt that the star of her narration would pale in the
light of the poem Klaasje had brought with him. And even without a
poem: such dignity, such a carriage, such manners, such a voice!
"Mynheer and Juffrouwen, may God bless you all this evening! This
is my son Klaas, of whom you have heard, I suppose. He's too close
kin to me for me to praise him; but you understand--when it's the
father--well, all blessings come from above."
"Yes, uncle, it will be a surprise."
"Yes, indeed, Juffrouw, a beautiful surprise. I congratulate this
gentleman on the happy return of his natal day. It puts me in the
mood of the psalmist--and I thank God--for Mynheer, everything comes
from above, you know."
"Take a seat. I thank you," said the host, who understood that he
had been congratulated. "It's cold out, isn't it?"
"Yes, a little cool; hardly cold. It's just what we call cool, you
understand. The Master gives us weather as he sees fit; and for that
reason I say cool. Everything comes from above."
To this last statement all assented in audible sighs and thought
themselves pious. What would have happened to him if some poor devil
had announced to them that some things come from below?
"And now, uncle, what do you say? Shall we begin with the surprise?"
"Go ahead, niece; what have you got?"
"Oh, it's only a trifle, Mynheer," put in the catechist. "My son is
a poet. I don't praise him, because he's too close kin to me; but
he's a clever fellow--I can say that without bragging--for everything
comes from above. No, I won't praise him--praise is for the Master
alone. But he's a clever fellow."
The poet Klaas looked conscious, and sat toying with the bottom button
on his vest. He looked poetical all over.
"And so, Mynheer, without bragging--get it out, my son. As a father,
Mynheer, I may say that he's a clever fellow; for in the Bible----"
Klaasje drew a piece of paper from his pocket.
"In the Bible there is really nothing said about widowers--the Master
has his own good reasons for it--but what does the boy do? He takes
the hint and writes a whole poem on widows."
Klaasje laid the paper on the table.
"Yes, I dare say, he has brought into it all the widows mentioned in
the Bible."
"You see it's a surprise. I told you so," said Juffrouw Laps.
"Read it, Klaasje! There are seventy, Mynheer, seventy widows. Read,
my boy."
Klaas pulled at his clothes, arranged his cuffs and began:
"The widows that in the Bible appear,
I've brought together in this poem here,
For the birthday that we celebrate
Of him who sadly lost his mate,
Exalting always the Master of Love,
For all that we have comes from above."
"That's the prologue," explained the father.
"Yes, that's the prologue. Now I will read:
"Genesis, 38, verse 11, it is said:
At her father-in-law's must the widow have her bed.
Exodus, 20, 22, it is penned:
Widows and orphans thou shalt not offend.
Two verses further he threatens, wrathful and grim
To make widows of all the women that anger him.
Leviticus, 21, verse 14, thou read'st
That a widow won't do for the wife of a priest.
A chapter further, one verse less, we have read,
That a childless widow must eat her father's bread.
From Numbers, 30, verse 10, we clearly infer,
That a widow's vow is sufficient for her."
In this style he continued glibly, without any interruption; but when
he came to:
"Second Samuel, 20, 3, very clearly outlines,
That as widows must live David's concubines----"
Juffrouw Pieterse became restless and had to have an explanation.
"Yes, Juffrouw, concubines," said van der Gracht senior. "You see
the boy has brought in everything relating to widows."
"The verses are not the same length," Stoffel complained; and there
is no alternation of masculine and feminine lines."
"You may be right, Stoffel, for you are a school-teacher; but that's
immaterial to me. These--these con--what shall I say----"
"Juffrouw Pieterse, you ought not to mock at it," cried Juffrouw Laps.
"That's right," said the catechist, "all blessings come from above. Go
ahead, Klaas!"
"No, I will not hear such things--on account of my daughters!"
The girls were examining their finger nails, and looked preÎminently
respectable.
"Go ahead, Klaas!"
"If I had known that this was going to happen, I would have left my
daughters at home."
"But, Juffrouw, it's in the Bible. You're not opposed to the Bible,
are you?"
"No, but I refuse to hear anything that isn't respectable. My
husband----"
"Your husband sold shoes. I know it, Juffrouw, but you're not going
to turn against----"
"I'm not going to do anything against the Bible, but I will not endure
such coarseness. Come, Gertrude, come, children!"
Juffrouw Pieterse was climbing the ladder of respectability. Moving
out of a side street into one of the principal avenues, giving the
children French names, calling in a doctor whose coachman wears
furs--that is what lifts us up.