The Von Toodleburgs | Page 5

an evening, but would have his sly joke. Many a time
he had to "stand" cider and ale for the company, and considered he got
off cheap at that. And when they drank his health, it was with
insinuating winks and nods; one saying:

"What a pity. He ought to have somebody to leave his little farm to."
"Yes," another would interrupt; "if he had a son he'd be sure to leave
him the secret of Kidd's treasure."
The gossips of the village were to change their tune soon. Dame rumor
had been whispering it around for a month that there was something in
the wind at Toodleburg's. And, to put it more plainly, it was added that
Hanz was soon to be made a happy man by the appearance of a little
Toodleburg. This change, or rather apparent change, in the prospects of
the family did not relieve Hanz from the tax for ale and cider levied on
him by the idle fellows at the inn. Indeed, he had to stand just twice the
number of treats in return for the compliments paid him as a man and a
Christian. It was noticed, also, that the Dominie took tea more
frequently at Hanz's table; and that Critchel, the little snuffy doctor,
who had practised in the settlement for a quarter of a century, and,
indeed, assisted in bringing at least one-half of its inhabitants into the
world, and of course was considered very safe in such cases, had
increased his visits at the house.
Now these honest old burghers had almanacs made with strict regard to
truth, and if they prognosticated a storm it was sure to come. They
would not consider it safe to navigate the Tappan Zee on a day fixed by
the almanac for a storm. On the 5th day of January, 1805, in the
almanac that never failed Hanz, there was this: "Look out for a snow
storm." This time, however, the snow, if not the storm, was ahead of
the almanac. Indeed, it had been falling slowly and gently for two days;
and a white sheet of it, at least three inches deep, covered the ground on
the morning of the 5th. The weather had changed during the night, and
now the air was sharp and cold. Dark, bleak clouds hung along the
horizon in the northeast, the distant hills stood out sharp and cold, and a
chilling wind whispered and sighed through the leafless trees. Then the
wind grew stronger and stronger, the snow fell thicker and faster,
making fantastic figures in the air, then dancing and scudding to the
force of the gale, and shutting the opposite shore from sight. Nyack lay
buried in a storm, and the Tappan Zee was in a tempest. Snow drifted
through the streets, up the lanes, over the houses, and put night-caps on

the mountain tops. Snow danced into rifts in the roads and across fields,
and sent the traveller to the inn for shelter. Lowing cattle sought the
barn-yard for shelter, or huddled together under the lee of some
hay-stack, covered with snow. Night came, and still the snow fell, and
the wind blew in all its fury.
It was on that cold, stormy night that a bright light might have been
seen burning in the little house where Hanz Toodleburg lived. The
storm had shook its frame from early morning; and now the windows
rattled, discordant sounds were heard on the veranda, wind sighed
through the crevices, and fine snow rifted in under the door and through
the latch-hole, and tossed itself into little drifts on the floor. Nyack was
buried in a storm that night. There was an old clock on the mantle-piece,
and it kept on ticking, and its ticks could be heard above the storm. And
the bright oak fire in the great fireplace threw out shadows that flitted
over the great loom, and the wheels, and the festoons of dried apples,
and the pumpkins that hung from the beams overhead. And old Deacon,
the faithful watch-dog, lay coiled up on the flag hearth-stone.
The old clock had nearly marked the hour of midnight as Hanz came
out of the little room in an apparently agitated state of mind. The dog
raised his head and moved his tail as Hanz approached the fire and
threw some sticks on. "Dere's no postponin' it; and it sthorms so,"
muttered Hanz, shaking his head. Then he put on his big coat and boots,
drew his cap over his ears, and went out into the storm, leaving the big
dog on guard. How he struggled through the snow that night, what
difficulty he had in waking up his two nearest neighbors, and getting
one of them to send his son for Doctor Critchel, and what was said