The Von Toodleburgs | Page 4

the head of a very distinguished
family in New York, and whose fortunes and misfortunes it is my
object to chronicle.
Having spoken only of one side of the family, I will proceed now to
enlighten the reader with a short account of the other, "Mine vrow,
Angeline," for such was the name by which Hanz referred to his good

wife, was a woman of medium size and height, and endowed with
remarkable good sense and energy. Heaven had also blessed her with
that gentleness of temper so necessary to make a home happy. They
had, indeed, been married nearly twenty years, and although nothing
had come of it in the way of an offspring, not a cross word had passed
between them. It was said to her credit that no housewife this side of
the Tappan Zee could beat her at making bread, brewing beer, or
keeping her house in good order. The frosts of nearly forty winters had
whitened over her brows, yet she had the manner and elasticity of a girl
of eighteen, and a face so full of sweetness and gentleness that it
seemed as if God had ordained it for man's love. Angeline's dress was
usually of plain blue homespun, woven by her own hands, and with her
cap and apron of snowy whiteness she presented a picture of neatness
and comeliness not seen in every house.
There was a big, square room on the first floor, with a little bed room
adjoining, and an old-fashioned bed with white dimity curtains, fringe,
and tassels made by Angeline's own hand. Snow white curtains also
draped the windows; and there was a tidy and cosy air about the little
bed room that told you how good a housewife Angeline was. An
old-fashioned hand-loom stood in one corner of the big, square room;
and a flax and a spinning-wheel had their places in another. A
farm-house was not considered well furnished in those days without
these useful implements, nor was a housewife considered accomplished
who could not card, spin, and weave. Angeline carded her own wool,
spun her own yarn, and weaved the best homespun made in the
settlement; and had enough for their own use and some to sell at the
store. In addition to that there was no housewife more expert at the
flax-wheel, and her homemade linen was famous from one end to the
other of the Tappan Zee. Hanz was, indeed, so skilful in the art of
raising, hetcheling, and dressing flax, that all the neighbors wanted to
borrow his hetchel. And if needs be he could make reeds and shuttles
for the loom, while Angeline always used harnesses of her own make.
And so industrious was this good wife that you could rarely pass the
house of a night without hearing the hum of the wheel or the clink of
the loom.

The good people about Nyack were honest in those days, paid their
debts, were happy in their very simplicity, and had no thought of
sending to Paris either for their fabrics or their fashions.
Now Angeline's father was a worthy blacksmith, an honest and upright
man, who lived hard by, had a house of his own, and owed no man a
shilling. This worthy blacksmith had two daughters, Angeline and
Margaret, both remarkable for their good looks, and both blessed with
loving natures. And it was said by the neighbors that the only flaw in
the character of this good man's family was made by pretty Margaret,
who went away with and married one Gosler, a travelling mountebank.
This man, it is true, asserted that he was a Count in his own country,
and that misfortune had brought him to what he was. His manners were,
indeed, those of a gentleman; and there were people enough who
believed him nothing more than a spy sent by the British to find out
what he could.
CHAPTER II.
COMING INTO THE WORLD.
It was mentioned in the last chapter that Hanz Toodleburg had seen
twenty years of the happiest of wedded life; and yet that Angeline had
not increased his joys with an offspring. Thoughtless people made
much ado about this, and there were enough of them in the settlement
to get their heads together and say all sorts of unkind things to Hanz
concerning this family failing. I verily believe that the time of one-half
of the human family is engaged seeking scandal in the misfortunes of
the other. And I have always found that you got the ripest scandal in
the smallest villages; and Nyack was not an exception. No wonder,
then, that Hanz had to bear his share of that slander which one-half the
world puts on the other. Not an idle fellow at the inn, where Hanz
would look in of