Hans Brinker/Silver Skates/etc | Page 4

and potato.
After leaving the old fire woman, who nodded a pleasant good-bye to us, and willingly put our stivers in her great outside pocket, we drove through the streets enjoying the singular sights of a public washing day. Yes, in certain quarters of the city, away from the canals, the streets were lively with washerwomen hard at work. Hundreds of them in clumsy wooden shoes, with their tucked-up skirts, bare arms, and close-fitting caps, were bending over tall wooden tubs that reached as high as their waists--gossiping and rubbing, rubbing and gossiping--with perfect unconcern, in the public thoroughfare, and all washing with cold water instead of using hot, as we do. What a grand thing it would be for our old fire woman if boiling water were suddenly to become the fashion on these public washing days!
And now goodbye. Oh! I must tell you one more thing. We found today in an Amsterdam bookstore this story of Hans Brinker told in Dutch. It is a queer-looking volume, beautifully printed, and with colored pictures, but filled with such astounding words that it really made me feel sorry for the little Hollanders who are to read them.
Good-bye again, in the touching words of our Dutch translator with whom I'm sure you'll heartily agree: Toch ben ik er mijn landgenooten dank baar voor, die mijn arbeid steeds zoo welwillend outvangen en wier genegenheid ik voortdurend hoop te verdienen.
Yours affectionately, The Author.

Contents

Hans and Gretel Holland The Silver Skates Hans and Gretel Find a Friend Shadows in the Home Sunbeams Hans Has His Way Introducing Jacob Poot and His Cousin The Festival of Saint Nicholas What the Boys Saw and Did in Amsterdam Big Manias and Little Oddities On the Way to Haarlem A Catastrophe Hans Homes Haarlem--The Boys Hear Voices The Man with Four Heads Friends in Need On the Canal Jacob Poot Changes the Plan Mynheer Kleef and His Bill of Fare The Red Lion Becomes Dangerous Before the Court The Beleaguered Cities Leyden The Palace in the Wood The Merchant Prince and the Sister-Princess Through the Hague A Day of Rest Homeward Bound Boys and Girls The Crisis Gretel and Hilda The Awakening Bones and Tongues A New Alarm The Father's Return The Thousand Guilders Glimpses Looking for Work The Fairy Godmother The Mysterious Watch A Discovery The Race Joy in the Cottage Mysterious Disappearance of Thomas Higgs Broad Sunshine Conclusion

Hans and Gretel

On a bright December morning long ago, two thinly 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 fastening something to their feet--not skates, certainly, but clumsy pieces of wood narrowed and smoothed at their lower edge, and pierced with holes, through which were threaded strings of rawhide.
These queer-looking affairs had been made by the boy Hans. His mother was a poor peasant woman, too poor even to 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 without 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 creatures, he steered toward her.
"You are foolish to wear such shoes, Gretel, when you have a stout leather pair. Your klompen *{Wooden shoes.} would be better than these."
"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 o the