The Von Toodleburgs | Page 3

were gossips and
mischievous people in the settlement who, when engaged over their
cups, would hint at suspicious enterprises in which Hanz's ancestors
were engaged on the Spanish Main. Indeed, they would hint at times
that it was not saying much for his family that his father had sailed with
Captain Kidd, which would account for the doubloons and Mexican
dollars Hanz could always bring out of a "rainy day." That Hanz had a
stock of these coins put safely away there could not be a doubt, for he
would bring them out at times and part with them, declaring in each
case that they were the last. But how he came by them was a mystery
not all the wisdom of the settlement could penetrate. It was conceded
that if there was any man in the settlement who knew more than
Jacques, the schoolmaster, it was Titus Bright, who kept the little inn
near the big oak; and these two worthies would discuss for hours over
their toddy the question of how Hanz came by his dollars and
doubloons. But they never came to a decision; and generally ended by
sending their listeners home with their wits worse perplexed than ever.
It was all well enough for old Jacques and the inn-keeper to show their
knowledge of history; but the gossips would have it that if Hanz's father
had sailed with Captain Kidd he, of course, knew where that bold pirate
had buried his treasure, and had imparted the secret to his son. Here
was the way Hanz came possessed of the doubloons and dollars. Indeed,
it was more than hinted that Hanz had been seen of dark and stormy
nights navigating the Tappan Zee, alone in his boat, and no one knew
where he went. Another had it that he was sure to part with a doubloon
or two shortly after one of these excursions, which told the tale. There
were others who said it did not matter a fig if Hanz Toodlebug's
doubloons were a part of Kidd's hidden treasure; but it was selfish of
him not to disclose the secret, and by so doing give his neighbors a
chance to keep as good cows and sheep as he did. Hanz was not the
man to notice small scandal, and continued to smoke his pipe and make
his friends welcome whenever they looked in. Once or twice he had
been heard to say, that if anybody was particular to know how he came
by his doubloons and dollars he would tell them. There was a place up
in the mountain where he made them.

I will say here, for the benefit of my readers, that the little old house
where Hanz Toodleburg lived, and about which there clustered so many
pleasant memories, still stands by the roadside, and is an object of
considerable curiosity. It is much gone to decay now, and a very
different person occupies it. There are persons still living in the village
who knew Hanz, and never pass the place without recurring to the
many happy hours spent under his roof. That was in the good old days,
before Nyack began to put on the airs of a big town. There is the
latticed arch leading from the gate to the door; the little veranda, where
the vines used to creep and flower in spring; the moss-covered roof,
and the big arm chair, made of cedar branches, where Hanz used to sit
of a summer evening contemplating the beauties of the Tappan Zee,
while drinking his cider and smoking his pipe. It was in this little
veranda that business of great importance to the settlers would at times
be discussed. The good sloop Heinrich was at that time the only regular
New York packet, making the round voyage every week. Her captain,
one Jonah Balchen, was much esteemed by the people of Nyack for his
skill in navigation; and it was said of him that he knew every rock and
shoal in the Tappan Zee, and no man ever lost his life who sailed with
him. The arrival of the good sloop Heinrich then was quite an event,
and whenever it occurred the neighbors round about would gather into
Hanz's little veranda to hear what news she brought from the city, and
arrange with Captain Balchen for the next freight. Indeed, these honest
old Dutchmen used to laugh at the idea of a man who would think of
navigating the Tappan Zee in a boat with a big tea-kettle in her bottom,
and making the voyage to New York quicker than the good sloop
Heinrich.
I have been thus particular in describing Hanz Toodleburg's little home,
since it was the birth-place of Titus Bright Von Toodleburg, who
flourished at a more recent date as