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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30135 ***
+
+                            Walter Pieterse
+                           A Story of Holland
+
+                                  By
+                               Multatuli
+                         (Eduard Douwes Dekker)
+
+                             Translated by
+                          Hubert Evans, Ph. D.
+
+
+
+                                New York
+                           Friderici & Gareis
+                       6 East Seventeenth Street
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                            Copyright, 1904,
+                                   By
+                           Friderici & Gareis
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+Most of us know that The Hague is somewhere in Holland; and we all
+know that Queen Wilhelmina takes a beautiful picture; but to how many
+of us has it occurred that the land of Spinoza and Rembrandt is still
+running a literary shop?
+
+How many of us have ever heard of Eduard Douwes Dekker? Very few,
+I fear, except professional critics. And yet, the man who, forty
+years ago, became famous as Multatuli (I have borne much), was not
+only the greatest figure in the modern literature of the Netherlands,
+but one of the most powerful and original writers in the literature
+of the world. An English critic has called him the Heine of Holland;
+Anatole France calls him the Voltaire of the Netherlands.
+
+Eduard Douwes Dekker was born in 1820, at Amsterdam, his father being
+the captain of a merchantman trading in the Dutch colonies. At the age
+of eighteen Dekker sailed on his father's vessel for the East Indies,
+determined to abandon the business career that had been mapped out for
+him and enter the colonial service. In 1839 he received a clerkship
+in the civil service at Batavia. He now remained in the employ of
+the government for seventeen years, being promoted from one grade to
+another until he was made Assistant Resident of Lebak in 1856.
+
+In this important position he used his influence to better the
+condition of the natives; but, to his sorrow, he soon found that he
+did not have the support of his superiors. What he conceived to be
+right clashed with the line of conduct he was expected to follow. In
+a rash moment of "righteous indignation" he handed in his resignation;
+and it was accepted.
+
+This hasty step put an end to a brilliant political career and entailed
+upon Dekker years of disappointment and hardship. Seeing that he was
+pursuing the wrong method to help either the Javanese, or himself,
+he immediately tried to get reinstated, but without success. In 1857
+he returned to Holland and applied to the home government, hoping to
+be vindicated and restored to his post. Again he was disappointed. The
+government offered him another desirable position; but, as it was a
+matter of principle with Dekker, he declined it.
+
+When he saw that it was useless to importune the government further,
+Dekker made his appeal to the people in "Max Havelaar" (1860). The book
+was an instant success and made the name of Multatuli famous. Through
+the perfidy of a supposed friend, however, Dekker failed to get very
+substantial material rewards from this work. For ten years yet he
+was struggling with poverty.
+
+The Bohemian life that Dekker was now compelled to live--his family
+was on the sufferance of friends--estranged him from his wife and
+strengthened what some might call an unfortunate--or, at least, an
+untimely--literary friendship that Dekker had formed with a certain
+Miss Mimi Schepel, of The Hague. The spiritual affinity between the
+two soon developed a passion that neither could resist. This estimable
+lady, who afterwards became Dekker's second wife, is still living,
+and has edited Dekker's letters in nine volumes. Dekker died in
+February, 1887, at his home in Nieder-Ingelheim, where he had lived
+for several years.
+
+The "Woutertje Pieterse" story was first published in Dekker's
+seven volume work entitled "Ideen." Here it is sandwiched in between
+miscellaneous sketches, essays and treatises, being scattered all
+the way from Vol. I to Vol. VII. The story falls naturally into two
+parts, of which the present volume is the first part. The second part,
+written in a different key, deals with "Walter's Apprenticeship."
+
+A good deal of the flax, or silk, of his Chinaman's pigtail, to use
+Dekker's form of expression, I have unraveled as being extraneous
+matter. However, despite these omissions, it is quite possible that
+some very sensitive person may still find objectionable allusions in
+the book. If so, I must refer that one to the shade of Multatuli. From
+his own admission his shoulders were evidently broad; and, no doubt,
+they will be able to bear the additional strain.
+
+
+                                                        Hubert Evans.
+
+New York City,
+    November, 1904.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+†                                                                  Page
+
+Chapter I
+
+    The origin of the story: regarding poetry, incurable love,
+    false hair, and the hero of the story--The dangers of fame and
+    the advantage of the upper shelf--The Chinaman's pigtail, and
+    the collar of humanity                                            1
+
+Chapter II
+
+    An Italian robber on the "Buitensingel" in Amsterdam--The bitter
+    suffering of the virtuous Amalia--Wax candles, the palisades of
+    morality--The cunning of the little Hallemans--The limitations
+    of space                                                          9
+
+Chapter III
+
+    The difference between a sugar bowl and a Bible--Leentje's virtues
+    and defects--An unfounded suspicion against Pennewip's honor     18
+
+Chapter IV
+
+    The profound silence of Juffrouw Laps--Stoffel's sermon--Walter's
+    fidelity to Glorioso--The last king of Athens--Ruined stomachs
+    and bursted ear-drums                                            24
+
+Chapter V
+
+    How one may become a great man--The cleverness of
+    M'sieu Millaire--Versifying and the art of classifying
+    everything--Hobby-horses                                         27
+
+Chapter VI
+
+    Preparations for a party--The assignment of rÙles--The conflict
+    between wishing and being--Some tricks of fancy--The two
+    sawmills--Amalia and the ducks                                   34
+
+Chapter VII
+
+    Poetry and wigs--The vexation and despair of the latter          42
+
+Chapter VIII
+
+    A tea-evening, and how it began--Some gaps in the author's
+    knowledge--Stoffel's zoˆlogical joke--The cause of the last Punic
+    war--And the advantage of smoking                                48
+
+Chapter IX
+
+    Echoes of the last Punic war--The defeat of Hannibal (Laps)
+    by Scipio (Pennewip)                                             61
+
+Chapter X
+
+    Causes of the tedious peace in Europe, showing the value
+    of a "tea-evening" as a study--Specimens of school-verse
+    concluded--Suitable for society poets and clever children        68
+
+Chapter XI
+
+    Report on the condition of the leading characters after the
+    catastrophe--Walter again: a character-study                     75
+
+Chapter XII
+
+    Leentje as a comforter and questioner--Prince Walter and his
+    dominions                                                        80
+
+Chapter XIII
+
+    Convincing proofs of Walter's improvement--His first invitation--A
+    study in love--Paradise and Peri                                 87
+
+Chapter XIV
+
+    Great changes in the Pieterse family--Walter becomes poet-laureate
+    at the court of Juffrouw Laps--The mountains of Asia--The bridge,
+    Glorioso, and love--again                                       102
+
+Chapter XV
+
+    Walter's dream--A swell coachman--Juffrouw Laps's difficulties
+                                                                    117
+
+Chapter XVI
+
+    Femke hunts for Walter, and finds him under peculiar
+    circumstances--Her adventures by the way                        125
+
+Chapter XVII
+
+    The widower's birthday--Klaasje's poem, and how a surprise may
+    involve further surprises                                       132
+
+Chapter XVIII
+
+    Walter's recovery--The doctor's pictures--Amsterdam dramaturgy
+                                                                    138
+
+Chapter XIX
+
+    Pastors, sermons, and Juffrouw Laps--Chocolate, timidity, and
+    love--The fire that didn't break out--Some details of religious
+    belief                                                          150
+
+Chapter XX
+
+    Our hero calls on the doctor--Some strange happenings--How Walter
+    delivered his present                                           161
+
+Chapter XXI
+
+    Ophelia reaches her destination, and Femke becomes a
+    queen--Walter's first experience "proposing"--Choosing a
+    profession                                                      170
+
+Chapter XXII
+
+    Walter enters the real world--The firm Motto, Business & Co.--The
+    technique of the novel--And the snuff of the Romans             180
+
+Chapter XXIII
+
+    How one may become a "prodigal" by studying the story of the
+    Prodigal Son                                                    194
+
+Chapter XXIV
+
+    Why Walter did not see Femke--The worldliness of a servant of
+    the church--The secret of Father Jansen's deafness in his left
+    ear                                                             201
+
+Chapter XXV
+
+    Kings and doughnuts--How the masses soar and fall--Walter's
+    cowardice and remorse of conscience--A good remedy for the
+    blues                                                           211
+
+Chapter XXVI
+
+    Our hero retires thinking of Princess Erika, to be aroused
+    by robbers and murderers, who are in collusion with Juffrouw
+    Laps                                                            225
+
+Chapter XXVII
+
+    Walter alone with a pious lady, or Juffrouw Laps on the war-path
+                                                                    240
+
+Chapter XXVIII
+
+    A midnight kiss--A wonderful statue in the "Juniper Berry"--
+    Republicans and True Dutch hearts--A sailor with--Femke?        245
+
+Chapter XXIX
+
+    Sunrise on the "Dam"--An exciting encounter with a water-nymph--A
+    letter from heaven--America, a haven for prodigal sons          260
+
+Chapter XXX
+
+    A message from Femke, which Walter fails to understand--Dr. Holsma
+    to the rescue--Femke and family portraits--Femke, and once more
+    Femke                                                           270
+
+Chapter XXXI
+
+    Stoffel's view of the matter--Juffrouw Laps's distress, and
+    Juffrouw Pieterse's elation--Elephants and butterflies, and
+    Kaatje's conception of heredity                                 279
+
+Chapter XXXII
+
+    A theatrical performance under difficulties--The contest between
+    Napoleon and King Minos of Crete--A Goddess on Mt. Olympus--Kisses
+    and rosebuds                                                    286
+
+Chapter XXXIII
+
+    Conclusion                                                      298
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+WALTER PIETERSE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+I don't know the year; but, since the reader will be interested to
+know the time when this story begins, I will give him a few facts to
+serve as landmarks.
+
+My mother complained that provisions were dear, and fuel as well. So
+it must have been before the discovery of Political Economy. Our
+servant-girl married the barber's assistant, who had only one
+leg. "Such a saving of shoe-leather," the good little soul argued. But
+from this fact one might infer that the science of Political Economy
+had already been discovered.
+
+At all events, it was a long time ago. Amsterdam had no sidewalks,
+import duties were still levied, in some civilized countries there were
+still gallows, and people didn't die every day of nervousness. Yes,
+it was a long time ago.
+
+The Hartenstraat! I have never comprehended why this street should
+be called thus. Perhaps it is an error, and one ought to write
+Hertenstraat, or something else. I have never found more "heartiness"
+there than elsewhere; besides, "harts" were not particularly plentiful,
+although the place could boast of a poulterer and dealer in venison.
+
+I haven't been there for a long time, and I only remember that the
+Straat connects two main canal-streets, canals that I would fill up
+if I had the power to make Amsterdam one of the most beautiful cities
+of Europe.
+
+My predilection for Amsterdam, our metropolis, does not make me
+blind to her faults. Among these I would mention first her complete
+inability to serve as the scene of things romantic. One finds here
+no masked Dominos on the street, the common people are everywhere
+open to inspection, no Ghetto, no Templebar, no Chinese quarter,
+no mysterious courtyard. Whoever commits murder is hanged; and the
+girls are called "Mietje" and "Jansje"--everything prose.
+
+It requires courage to begin a story in a place ending with
+"dam." There it is difficult to have "Emeranties" and "HÈloises";
+but even these would be of little use, since all of these belles have
+already been profaned.
+
+How do the French authors manage, though, to dress up their "Margots"
+and "Marions" as ideals and protect their "Henris" and "Ernestes"
+from the trite and trivial? These last remind one of M'sieu Henri or
+M'sieu Erneste just about like our castle embankments remind one of
+filthy water.
+
+Goethe was a courageous man: Gretchen, Kl‰rchen----
+
+But I, in the Hartenstraat!
+
+However, I am not writing a romance; and even if I should write one,
+I don't see why I shouldn't publish it as a true story. For it is
+a true story, the story of one who in his youth was in love with a
+sawmill and had to endure this torture for a long time.
+
+For love is torture, even if it is only love for a sawmill.
+
+It will be seen that the story is going to be quite simple, in fact
+too frail to stand alone. So here and there I am going to plait
+something in with the thread of the narrative, just as the Chinaman
+does with his pigtail when it is too thin. He has no Eau de Lob or
+oil from Macassar--but I admit that I have never found at Macassar
+any berries which yielded the required oil.
+
+To begin, in the Hartenstraat was a book-shop and circulating
+library. A small boy with a city complexion stood on the step and
+seemed to be unable to open the door. It was evident that he was
+trying to do something that was beyond his strength.
+
+He stretched out his hand towards the door knob repeatedly, but
+every time he interrupted this motion either by stopping to pull
+unnecessarily at a big square-cut collar that rested on his shoulders
+like a yoke, or by uselessly lifting his hand to screen an ingenuous
+cough.
+
+He was apparently lost in the contemplation of the pictures that
+covered the panes of glass in the door, turning them into a model
+chart of inconceivable animals, four-cornered trees and impossible
+soldiers. He was glancing continually to one side, like a criminal
+who fears that he is going to be caught in the act. It was manifest
+that he had something in view which must be concealed from passers-by,
+and from posterity, for that matter. His left hand was thrust under
+the skirts of his little coat, clutching convulsively at something
+concealed in his trousers pocket. To look at him one would have
+thought that Walter contemplated a burglary, or something of the kind.
+
+For his name was Walter.
+
+It is a fortunate thing that it occurred to me to relate his history;
+and now I consider it my duty to report that he was entirely innocent
+of any burglarious or murderous intentions.
+
+I only wish I could clear him of other sins as easily as this. The
+object he was turning and twisting in his left breeches pocket was
+not a house-key, nor a jimmy, nor a club, nor a tomahawk, nor any
+infernal machine: It was a small piece of paper containing fourteen
+stivers, which he had raised on his New Testament with Psalms at
+the grocer's on the "Ouwebrug"; and the thing that held him fast on
+the Hartenstraat was nothing more or less than his entrance into the
+magic world of romance. He was going to read "Glorioso."
+
+Glorioso! Reader, there are many imitations, but only one Glorioso. All
+the Rinaldos and Fra Diavolos are not to be mentioned in the same
+breath with Glorioso, this incomparable hero who carried away
+countesses by the dozen, plundered popes and cardinals as if they
+were ordinary fallible people, and made a testament-thief of Walter
+Pieterse.
+
+To be sure, Glorioso was not to blame for this last, certainly not. One
+ought to be ashamed to be a hero, or a genius, or even a robber, if
+on this account one is to be held responsible for all the crimes that
+may be committed years afterwards in the effort to get possession of
+one's history.
+
+I myself object to any accusation of complicity in those evil deeds
+that are committed after my death in quenching the thirst for knowledge
+of my fate. Indeed, I shall never be deterred from a famous career
+merely by the thought that some one may sell the New Testament to
+get hold of the "Life and Deeds of Multatuli."
+
+"You rascal, what are you loitering around here for? If you want
+anything, come in; if you don't, make yourself scarce."
+
+And now Walter had to go in, or else abandon his cherished
+Glorioso. But the man who bent over the counter and twisted himself
+like a crane to open the door and snarl these words at our young hero
+did not have a face that advised anything like turning back. He was
+angry. At first Walter had not had the courage to go in; now he did
+not dare to turn back. He felt himself drawn in. It was as if the
+book-shop swallowed him.
+
+"Glorioso, if you please, M'neer, and here----" He drew that infernal
+machine from his pocket. "And here is money----"
+
+For he had learned from his schoolmates, who had infected him with
+this craving for romance, that at the circulating library strangers
+must deposit a forfeit.
+
+The shopman seemed to regard himself as "sufficiently protected"
+by the sum produced. He took down a small volume, which was greasy
+and well worn, and bore both within and without the traces of much
+unclean enjoyment.
+
+I am certain that the "Sermons of Pastor Splitvesel," which stood
+undisturbed on the top shelf and looked down contemptuously on
+the literature of the day, would have been ashamed to bring their
+spotless binding into contact with so much uncleanliness. But it is
+not difficult to remain clean in the upper row. I find, therefore,
+that the "sermons" were unjust; and the same is true of many sermons.
+
+After Walter had given his name to the man in a trembling voice, he
+stuck the reward of his misdeed under his coat and hurried out the
+door, like a cat making away with the prey for which it has waited
+for hours.
+
+Walter ran and ran, and did not know where to go. He couldn't go home;
+he was watched too closely there,--which was not very difficult,
+as the space was rather limited.
+
+He selected quiet streets and finally came to a gateway that he
+remembered to have seen several times. It was a low, smooth arch,
+where it always smelled like ashes. Here, as a truant, he had taken
+that leap! He was with Franz Halleman, who had dared him to cut sacred
+studies and jump from the top of this arch. Walter did it just because
+little Franz had questioned his courage.
+
+To this escapade he was indebted for his great familiarity with the
+prophet Habakkuk, whose prophecies he had to copy twelve times as
+a penalty. Further, the sprain that he got in his big toe on that
+occasion gave him a good barometer in that organ, which always warned
+him of approaching rain.
+
+In a certain sense Habakkuk is to be regarded as marking a transition
+in Walter's life, viz. from nursery rhymes to books which deal with big
+people. For some time he had felt his admiration for "brave Heinriche"
+to be growing; and he was disgusted with the paper peaches that are
+distributed as the reward of diligence in the beautiful stories. Of
+any other peaches he had no knowledge, as the real article was never
+seen in the houses he visited.
+
+Nothing was more natural than that he should most ardently long to
+talk with the older schoolboys about the wonders of the real world,
+where people ride in coaches, devastate cities, marry princesses,
+and stay up in the evening till after 10 o'clock--even if it isn't a
+birthday. And then at the table one helps one's self, and may select
+just whatever one wants to eat. So think children.
+
+Every boy has his heroic age, and humanity, as a whole, has worn the
+little coat with the big collar.
+
+But how far can this comparison be carried? Where does the
+identity stop? Will the human race become mature? and more than
+mature?--old? Feeble and childish?
+
+How old are we now? Are we boys, youths, men? Or are we
+already----? No, that would be too unpleasant to think of.
+
+Let us suppose that we are just in the exuberance of youth! We are
+then no longer children exactly, and still we may hope something of
+the future.
+
+Yes, of the future,--when this stifling school atmosphere has been
+blown away. When we shall take pleasure in the short jacket of the boy
+that comes after us; when people will be at liberty to be born without
+any legal permit, and will not be reviled for it; when humanity will
+speak one language; when metaphysics and religion have been forgotten,
+and knowledge of nature takes the place of noble birth. When we shall
+have broken away from the nursery stories.
+
+There is some silk for my Chinaman's pigtail. Some will say it is
+only flax.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Walter thought neither of the heroic age nor of Chinese cues. Without
+any feeling for the beauty of the landscape, he hurried along till
+he came to a bridge that spanned a marshy ditch. After looking about
+carefully to assure himself that he was alone, he selected this
+bridge for his reading-room, and proceeded at once to devour his
+robber undisturbed.
+
+For a moment I felt tempted to make the reader a participant of
+Walter's pleasure by giving a sketch of the immortal work that chained
+the boy's attention. But aside from the fact that I am not very well
+versed in Glorioso--which fact of itself, though, would not prevent me
+from speaking about him--I have many other things of a more urgent
+nature to relate, and am compelled therefore to take the reader
+directly to the Hartenstraat, hoping that he will be able to find
+his way just as well as if he had crossed the Ouwebrug--the old bridge.
+
+Suffice it to say that Walter found the book "very nice." The virtuous
+Amalia, in the glare of flaring torches, at the death-bed of her
+revered mother, in the dismal cypress valley, swearing that her ardent
+love for the noble robber--through the horrible trapdoor, the rusty
+chains, her briny tears--in a word, it was stirring! And there was
+more morality in it, too, than in all the insipid imitations. All the
+members of the band were married and wore gloves. In the cave was
+an altar, with wax tapers; and those chapters in which girls were
+abducted always ended with a row of most decorous periods, or with
+mysterious dashes--which Walter vainly held up to the light in his
+effort to learn more about it.
+
+He read to: "Die, betrayer!" Then it was dark, and he knew that it
+was time to go home. He was supposed to be taking a walk with the
+Halleman boys,--who were "such respectable children." With regret he
+closed the precious volume and hurried away as fast as he could, for
+he was afraid he was going to get a whipping for staying away so long.
+
+"You will never get permission again"--thus he was always threatened
+on such occasions. But he understood, of course, that they didn't mean
+it. He knew too well that people like to get rid of the children for
+a while when they are a little short of space at home. And then the
+little Hallemans were "such extraordinarily respectable children;
+they lived next to a house with a portico, and recently they had
+taken off their little caps so politely."
+
+Now, I don't believe that the Hallemans were any more respectable
+than other boys of Walter's acquaintance; and, as I would like to
+give some reasons for my belief, I am going to relate an incident
+that had happened some time before this.
+
+Walter never got any pocket-money. His mother considered this
+unnecessary, because he got at home everything that he needed. It
+mortified him to have to wait for an invitation to join in a game
+of ball with his companions, and then be reminded that he had
+contributed nothing towards buying the ball. In Walter's time that
+useful instrument of sport cost three doits--just a trifle. Now
+I suppose they are more expensive--but no, cheaper, of course, on
+account of Political Economy.
+
+On many occasions he was depressed by reason of this lack of money. We
+shall see later whether what his mother said was true, or not: that he
+received at home everything he needed. It is certain that at home he
+never had the privilege of doing with some little thing as he pleased,
+which is very nice for children. And for grown-up people, too.
+
+The Hallemans--who were so especially respectable--gave him to
+understand that they had no desire to bear all the expenses. Franz
+calculated that Walter's friendship had already cost them nine
+stivers, which I find high--not for the friendship, but merely
+as an estimate. Gustave said it was still more; but that is a
+detail. Gustave, too, had let him have four slate pencils, that he
+might court "the tall Cecilia," who wouldn't have anything to do with
+him because he wore a jacket stuck in his trousers--the kind small
+boys wore then. She accepted the pencils, and then made Gustave a
+present of them for a kiss.
+
+The reproaches of the little Hallemans, who were so very respectable,
+almost drove Walter to despair.
+
+"I have told my mother, but she won't give me anything."
+
+The little Hallemans, who were so respectable, said: "What's that
+you're giving us? You're a parasite."
+
+This was the first time Walter had ever heard the word, but he knew
+what it meant. Nothing sharpens the wits like bitterness of heart.
+
+"A parasite, a parasite--I'm a parasite," and he ran off screaming,
+making a detour in order to avoid the street where Cecilia's father
+had a second-hand store. Oh, if she had seen him running through
+the street crying like a baby--that would have been worse than the
+breeches pulled up over his jacket!
+
+A parasite, a parasite!
+
+He met lots of grown-up people who perhaps were parasites, but they
+were not bawling on this account.
+
+Parasite!
+
+He saw a policeman, and caught his breath when he got by him, surprised
+that the man hadn't arrested him.
+
+Parasite!
+
+Then came a street-sweeper with his cart, who seemed to rattle that
+hateful word after him.
+
+Our little sufferer remembered that the Halleman boys had once told
+him what a fortune could be made by peddling peppermint drops. For
+twenty-four stivers one could buy a big sack full. By selling so
+and so many for a doit, the profit would be enormous. If one only
+had the capital to begin! The Hallemans had calculated everything
+very exactly; for they were not only very respectable, but also very
+cunning. Cunningness and respectability usually go hand in hand. They
+had said, all that was needed was the capital. They would attend to
+laying in the stock, and would assume all responsibility for the sale
+of the same. If Walter would chip in just a florin, they could raise
+the rest and all would go well.
+
+Parasite.... Parasite....
+
+Walter slipped a florin from his mother's box of savings and brought
+it to the Halleman boys, who were so remarkably respectable.
+
+"Where did you get it?" asked Gustave, but careful not to give Walter
+time to answer, or to fall into an embarrassing silence.
+
+"Where did you get it?"--without any interrogation point--"fine! Franz
+and I will each add one like it. That'll make twenty-four, and then
+we'll buy the peppermints. There's a factory on the Rosengracht--such
+a sack for four shillings. Franz and I will do everything. We'll
+have more opportunity at school, you understand. Christian Kloskamp
+has already ordered twelve; he'll pay after the holidays. We'll take
+all the trouble; you needn't do anything, Walter--and then an equal
+divide. You can depend upon it."
+
+Walter went home and dreamed of unheard-of wealth. He would put a
+dollar in his mother's savings-bank, and buy for Cecilia a lead pencil
+from the man who had picked holes in the wood-work of his wagon with
+them. So strong were they! That would be something entirely different
+from those slate pencils; and if the tall Cecilia still wouldn't
+have him, then--but Walter did not care to think further. There are
+abysses along the path of fancy that we do not dare to sound. We see
+them instinctively, close the eyes and--I only know that on that
+evening Walter fell asleep feeling good, expecting soon to have a
+good conscience over his little theft and hoping that Cecilia would
+give him a happy heart.
+
+Alas, alas! Little Walter had made his calculations without taking into
+consideration the slyness and respectability of the Hallemans. They
+lay in wait for him the next day as he came from school. Walter,
+who had painted to himself how they would be panting under the
+weight of the great sack; Walter, who was so anxious to know if
+Christian Kloskamp had taken what he had ordered; Walter, who was
+burning with curiosity as to the success of the venture--oh, he was
+bitterly disappointed. Gustave Halleman not only carried no sack of
+peppermints. What's more, he had a very grave face. And little Franz
+looked like virtue itself.
+
+"Well, how is everything?" Walter asked, but without saying a word. He
+was too curious not to ask, and too fearful to express the question
+otherwise than by opening his mouth and poking out his face.
+
+"Don't you know, Walter, we've been thinking about the matter; and
+there's a lot to be said against the plan."
+
+Poor Walter! In that moment both his heart and his conscience suffered
+shipwreck. Away with your dreams of ethical vindication, away with
+the gaping money-boxes of mothers--away, lead pencil that was to
+bore a hole in the hard heart of the tall Cecilia--gone, gone, gone,
+everything lost.
+
+"You see, Walter, the mint-drops might melt."
+
+"Y-e-s," sobbed Walter.
+
+"And Christian Kloskamp, who ordered twelve--don't you know----"
+
+"Y-e-s."
+
+I wonder if Christian was likely to melt too.
+
+"He is leaving school, and will certainly not return after the
+holidays."
+
+"H-e-e i-i-s?"
+
+"Yes, and for that reason, and also because there are not anything like
+so many to the pound as we had thought. Mint-drops are heavy. We've
+calculated everything, Franz and I."
+
+"Yes," added little Franz, with the seriousness of one giving
+important advice in a time of great danger, "the things are very
+heavy at present. Feel this one; but you must give it back to me."
+
+Walter weighed the mint-drop on his finger and returned it
+conscientiously.
+
+He found it heavy. Ah, in this moment he was so depressed that he
+would have found everything heavy.
+
+Franz stuck the piece of candy into his mouth, and sucking at it
+continued:
+
+"Yes, really, very heavy. These are the English drops, you know. And
+then there is something else, too, isn't there, Gustave? The propriety,
+the respectability! Tell him, Gustave."
+
+"The respectability," cried Gustave, significantly.
+
+"We mean the respectability of it," repeated Franz, as if he were
+explaining something.
+
+Walter looked first from one to the other, and did not seem to
+comprehend.
+
+"You tell him, Gustave."
+
+"Yes, Walter, Franz will tell you," said Gustave.
+
+"Walter, our papa is a deacon, and carries a portfolio, and there
+where we live is a----"
+
+"Yes," cried Gustave, "there on the Gracht, you know, lives M'neer
+Krulewinkel. He has a villa----"
+
+"With a portico," added Franz.
+
+"It's just on account of our standing--don't you see, Walter? And
+when a visitor comes our mother brings out the wine."
+
+"Yes, Maderia, Maderia! And our tobacco-box is silver, and----"
+
+"No, Franz, it isn't silver; but, Walter, it looks just like silver."
+
+Our poor little sinner understood all of this, but he failed to see
+what bearing it might have on his own disappointed hopes. He stuttered:
+"Yes, Gustave--yes, Franz--but the peppermint----"
+
+"We just wanted to tell you that we are very respectable, don't
+you see?"
+
+"Yes, Gustave."
+
+"And well-behaved."
+
+"Y-e-e-s, Franz." Poor Walter!
+
+"And then as you said you never got any pocket-money----"
+
+"Yes, Walter--and don't you know? Because our papa is so
+respectable--when winter comes you can see how he looks after the
+orphans."
+
+"Yes, and he rings at every door. And--and--we are afraid, that
+you----"
+
+"That you----"
+
+"The florin----"
+
+"The florin! You understand?"
+
+"That you didn't get it----"
+
+"That you didn't get it honestly. That's it," said Franz, sticking
+another mint-drop into his mouth, perhaps to brace himself up.
+
+It was out at last. Poor, miserable Walter.
+
+"And on that account, Walter, we would rather not keep the money,
+but just divide now--equally, as we all agreed."
+
+"Yes," cried Gustave, "divide equally. The work--we--you understand?"
+
+They divided the profits. And the Hallemans were sleek about
+it. Twenty-four stivers; three into twenty-four goes eight times,
+therefore----
+
+Walter received eight stivers.
+
+"Don't you see," explained Gustave, "we couldn't do it, because our
+papa is a deacon."
+
+"Yes--and our tobacco-box, even if it isn't pure silver, it's just
+like silver."
+
+My lack of faith in the extreme respectability of the Hallemans
+is based upon the foregoing story; and I am inclined to think that
+all this "respectability" of which Walter heard so much at home was
+only an excuse on his mother's part to get him out of the way. For
+there was a lack of room. If she had wanted to use Walter about the
+house, it is questionable if she had discovered anything especially
+respectable about those boys.
+
+Many laws and most customs have their origin in a "lack of room"--in
+the intellect, in one's character, in the house or flat, in the fields,
+in the city.
+
+This applies to the preference for the right hand--a result of
+crowding at the table--to the institution of marriage, and to many
+things lying between these extremes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+We will not try to explain further this fruitful principle of
+"limitation of space." Walter knew the fruit of it, even if he failed
+to recognize the origin. He was not worried so much by the mere coming
+home as by the punishment he expected to receive as soon as that New
+Testament should be missed. He had returned from his little excursion
+into the country with Glorioso, and now in Amsterdam again the memory
+of his recent offense--or shall I say the anticipation of what was
+coming?--lay heavily on his mind.
+
+If we could think away all the results of crime committed, there
+would be very little left of what we call conscience.
+
+But Walter consoled himself with the thought that it wasn't a thimble
+this time. The testament will not be missed at once, he reflected,
+because Sunday was a long way off, and no one would ask about it
+during the week.
+
+No, it was not a thimble, or a knitting-needle, or a sugar-bowl,
+or anything in daily use.
+
+When our hero got home, he stuck his greasy Glorioso under Leentje's
+sewing-table--the same Leentje who had sewed up his breeches after
+that wonderful leap, so that his mother never found out about it. She
+went down to her grave in ignorance of these torn breeches.
+
+But Leentje was employed to patch breeches and such things. She
+received for this seven stivers a week, and every evening a slice of
+bread and butter.
+
+Long after the Habakkuk period, Walter often thought of her humble
+"Good-evening, Juffrouw; good-evening, M'neer and the young Juffrouwen;
+good-evening, Walter," etc.
+
+Yes, Walter's mother was called Juffrouw, on account of the
+shoe-business. For Juffrouw is the title of women of the lower middle
+classes, while plain working women are called simply Vrouw. Mevrouw
+is the title of women of the better classes. And so it is in the
+Netherlands till to-day: The social structure is a series of classes,
+graduated in an ascending scale. Single ladies are also called
+Juffrouw, so that Juffrouw may mean either a young lady or a young
+matron--who need not necessarily be so young. The young Juffrouwen
+were Walter's sisters, who had learned how to dance. His brother
+had been called M'neer since his appointment as assistant at the
+"intermediate school," a sort of charity school now no longer in
+existence. His mother had spliced his jacket that he might command
+the respect of the boys, and remarked that the name "Stoffel" scarcely
+suited him now. This explains why Leentje addressed him as M'neer. To
+Walter she simply said Walter, for he was only a small boy. Walter
+owed her three stivers, or, to be exact, twenty-six doits, which he
+never did pay her. For, years afterward, when he wanted to return the
+money to her, there were no more doits; and, besides, Leentje was dead.
+
+This pained him very much, for he had thought a great deal of her. She
+was ugly, even dirty, and was stoop-shouldered, too. Stoffel, the
+schoolmaster, said that she had an evil tongue: She was thought to
+have started the report that he had once eaten strawberries with
+sugar in the "Netherlands." This was a small garden-restaurant.
+
+I am willing to admit the truth of all this; but what more could one
+expect for seven stivers and a slice of bread and butter? I have known
+duchesses who had larger incomes; and still in social intercourse
+they were not agreeable.
+
+Leentje was stooped as a result of continuous sewing. Her needle
+kept the whole family clothed; and she knew how to make two jackets
+and a cap out of an old coat and still have enough pieces left for
+the gaiters that Stoffel needed for his final examination. He fell
+through on account of a mistake in Euclid.
+
+With the exception of Walter nobody was satisfied with Leentje. I
+believe they were afraid of spoiling her by too much kindness. Walter's
+sisters were always talking about "class" and "rank," saying that
+"everyone must stay in his place." This was for Leentje. Her father
+had been a cobbler who soled shoes, while the father of the young
+Juffrouwen had had a store in which "shoes from Paris" were sold. A
+big difference. For it is much grander to sell something that somebody
+else has made than to make something one's self.
+
+The mother thought that Leentje might be a little cleaner. But I am
+going to speak of the price again, and of the difficulty of washing
+when one has no time, no soap, no room, and no water. At that time
+waterpipes had not been laid, and, if they had been, it's a question
+if the water had ever got as far as Leentje.
+
+So, everyone but Walter had a spite against Leentje. He liked her,
+and was more intimate with her than with anyone else in the house,
+perhaps because the others could not endure him, and there was nothing
+left for him to do but to seek consolation from her. For every feeling
+finds expression, and nothing is lost, either in the moral or in the
+material world. I could say more about this, but I prefer to drop the
+subject now, for the organ-grinder under my window is driving me crazy.
+
+Walter's mother called him, "That boy." His brothers--there were
+more beside Stoffel--affirmed that he was treacherous and morose,
+because he spoke little and didn't care for "marbles." When he did say
+anything, they attributed to him a relationship with King Solomon's
+cat. His sisters declared he was a little devil. But Walter stood
+well with Leentje. She consoled him, and considered it disgraceful
+that the family didn't make more out of such a boy as Walter. She
+had seen that he was not a child like ordinary children. And I should
+scarcely take the trouble to write his story if he had been.
+
+Up to a short time after his trip to Hartenstraat, Ash Gate and the
+old bridge, Leentje was Walter's sole confidant. To her he read
+the verses that slender Cecilia had disdained. To her he poured
+out his grief over the injustice of his teacher Pennewip, who gave
+him only "Fair," while to that red-headed Keesje he gave "Very good"
+underscored--Keesje who couldn't work an example by himself and always
+"stuck" in "Holland Counts."
+
+"Poor boy," said Leentje, "you're right about it." They went over into
+the Bavarian house. It's a disgrace! And to save a doit on the pound.
+
+She claimed that Keesje's father, who was a butcher, let Pennewip
+have meat at a reduced price, and that this was what was the matter
+with all those Holland counts and their several houses.
+
+Later Walter looked upon this as a "white lie," for Pennewip, when
+examined closely, didn't look like a man who would carry on a crooked
+business with beefsteak. But in those days he accepted gladly this
+frivolous suspicion against the man's honor as a plaster for his own,
+which had been hurt by the favoritism towards Keesje. Whenever our
+honor is touched, or what we regard as our honor, then we think little
+of the honor of others.
+
+When his brothers jeered at him and called him "Professor Walter,"
+or when his sisters scolded him for his "idiotic groping among
+the bed-curtains," or when his mother punished him for eating up
+the rice that she intended to serve again "to-morrow"--then it was
+always Leentje who restored the equilibrium of his soul and banished
+his cares, just as, with her inimitable stitches, she banished the
+"triangles" from his jacket and breeches.
+
+Ugly, dirty, evil-tongued Leentje, how Walter did like you! What
+consolation radiated from her thimble, what encouragement even in
+the sight of her tapeline! And what a lullaby in those gentle words:
+"There now, you have a needle and thread and scraps. Sew your little
+sack for your pencils and tell me more of all those counts, who always
+passed over from one house into another."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+I don't know what prophet Walter got as punishment for that pawned
+Bible. The pastor came to preach a special sermon. The man was simply
+horrified at such impiousness. Juffrouw Laps, who lived in the lower
+anteroom, had heard about it too. She was very pious and asserted
+that such a boy was destined for the gallows.
+
+"One begins with the Bible," she said significantly, "and ends with
+something else."
+
+No one has ever found out just what that "something else" is which
+follows a beginning with the Bible. I don't think she knew herself,
+and that she said it to make people believe that she possessed much
+wisdom and knew more about the world than she gave utterance to. Now,
+I admit that I have no respect for wisdom that cannot express itself
+in intelligible words, and, if it had been my affair, I should have
+very promptly drawn a tight rein on Juffrouw Laps.
+
+Stoffel delivered an exhortation in which he brought out all that had
+been forgotten by the preacher. He spoke of Korah, Dathan and Abiram,
+who had erred similarly to Walter and had been sent to an early grave
+for their sins. He said too, that the honor of the family had been
+lost at the "Ouwebrug," that it was his duty, "as the eldest son of an
+irreproachable widow and third assistant at the intermediate school,
+to take care of the honor of the house----"
+
+"Of Bavaria," said Leentje softly.
+
+That "a marriage, or any other arrangement for the girls, would be
+frustrated by Walter's offence, for no one would have anything to do
+with girls who----"
+
+In short, Stoffel accented the fact that it was "a disgrace," and that
+"he would never be able to look anyone in the face who knew of this
+crime." He remarked distinctly that the schoolboys must know of it,
+for Louis Hopper had already stuck out his tongue at him!
+
+And finally, that he "shuddered to cross the new market-place"--in
+those days criminals were scourged, branded and hanged here--because
+it reminded him so disagreeably of Juffrouw Laps's horrible allusion
+to Walter's fate.
+
+Then followed all sorts of things about Korahs, Dathans and Abirams,
+whereupon the whole family broke out in a wail. For it was so pathetic.
+
+Walter comforted himself with thoughts of Glorioso, and, whenever that
+"something else" of Juffrouw Laps was spoken of, he just dreamed of
+his marriage with beautiful Amalia, whose train was carried by six
+pages. I fancy Juffrouw Laps would have made a pretty face if she
+had learned of this interpretation of her mysterious climax.
+
+All efforts to compel our hero to tell how he had spent that money were
+in vain. After all known means had been applied, the attempt to force a
+confession had to be abandoned. Water and bread, water without bread,
+bread without water, no water and no bread, the preacher, Stoffel,
+Habakkuk, Juffrouw Laps, tears, the rod--all in vain. Walter was not
+the boy to betray Glorioso. This was what he had found so shabby of
+Scelerajoso, who had to pay the penalty, as we have seen.
+
+As soon as he got the privilege of walking again with the Hallemans,
+who were so eminently respectable, he hurried away to the old bridge,
+near Ash Gate, to continue his thrilling book. He read up to that
+fatal moment when he had to tell his hero good-bye, and on the last
+page saw Glorioso, as a major-general, peacefully expire in the arms
+of the virtuous Alvira.
+
+When Walter had returned the book to Hartenstraat his eye was attracted
+by some almond-cakes at the confectioner's on the corner. He did with
+Glorioso just as the Athenians did with Kodrus: No one was worthy to
+be the successor of such a hero, and within a few days the residue
+of the New Testament had been converted into stomach-destroying pastry.
+
+I ought to add that a part of the "balance" left after that Italian
+excursion--perhaps the part contributed by the Psalms--was invested
+in a triple-toned, ear-splitting, soul-searing harmonica, which was
+finally confiscated by Master Pennewip as being a disturbing element
+in the schoolroom.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+I don't feel called upon to pass judgment on the strife between
+Leentje and Pennewip regarding the latter's partiality towards Keesje,
+the butcher's son. But that fiery feeling for right and justice
+which has harrassed me from my earliest youth--ah, for years have I
+waited in vain for justice--and the foolish passion for hunting after
+mitigating circumstances, even when the misdeed has been proved--all
+this compels me to say that Pennewip's lot might be considered a
+mitigating circumstance for a man convicted of the eight deadly sins.
+
+I have found that many great men began their careers as feeders of
+hogs (see biographical encyclopedias); and it seems to me that this
+occupation develops those qualities necessary in ruling or advancing
+mankind.
+
+If the theologists should happen to criticise this story, and perhaps
+accuse me of far-reaching ignorance, because I enumerate one cardinal
+sin more than they knew of, or of the crime of classifying man as
+a sort of hog, I reply that, still another new canonical sin could
+be discovered that they have never studied. And that ought to be as
+pleasing to them as influenza is to the apothecary.
+
+New problems, gentlemen, new problems!
+
+And as for our relationship with pigs, just consider the relation
+of coal to diamond, and I think everyone will be satisfied--even
+the theologists.
+
+What a magnificent prospect anyone has who spends his tender youth
+with those grunting coal-diamonds of the animal world! But I have
+often wondered that in the "Lives of Famous Men" we so seldom read of
+a school-teacher, for in the school all the ingredients of greatness
+are abounding.
+
+The reverse is more often true. Every day we see banished princes
+teaching lazy boys. Dionysius and Louis Philippe are not the only
+ones. I myself once tried to teach an American French. It was no go.
+
+If it should ever become customary again to elect kings, I hope the
+people will elect such persons as have studied men, just as one studies
+Geography on globes or maps. All virtues, propensities, passions,
+mistakes, misdeeds, knowledge of which is so indispensable in human
+society, can be studied much better in the schoolroom. The field is
+restricted, and can be taken in more readily. The famous statecraft
+of many a great man, if the truth were known, had its origin in that
+old tripping trick, which is everything to the three-foot Machiavellis.
+
+The task of a schoolmaster is not an easy one. I have never understood
+why he is not better paid, or, since this must be so, why there are
+still men who prefer to teach, when on the same pay they might be
+corporals in the army, and teach the use of firearms, which offers
+fewer headaches and more fresh air.
+
+I would even rather be a preacher; for he does work with people who are
+interested and come to hear him of their own free will. The teacher
+has to fight continually with indifference, and with the extremely
+dangerous rivalry of tops, marbles, and paper-dolls--not to speak of
+candy, scarlatina and weak mothers.
+
+Pennewip was a man of the old school. At least he would seem so to
+us if we could see him in his gray school jacket and short trousers
+with buckles, and his brown wig, which he was continually pushing
+into place. At the first of the week this was always curly, when it
+was not raining--rain isn't good for curls; and on Sundays "the man
+with the curling irons" came.
+
+Antiquated? But perhaps this is only imagination. Who knows? perhaps
+in his day he was quite modern. How soon people will say the same
+of us! At all events, the man called himself "Master" and his school
+was a school and not an "Institute." It is no advance to call things
+by other than their right names. In his school boys and girls sat
+together indiscriminately, according to the naÔve custom of those
+days. They learned, or might learn, Reading, Writing, Arithmetic,
+National History, Psalmody, Sewing, Knitting, and Religion. These
+were the order of the day, but if anyone distinguished himself by
+a show of talent, diligence or good behavior, that one received
+special instruction in versification, an art in which Pennewip took
+great pleasure.
+
+Thus he taught the boys till they were sufficiently advanced to be
+confirmed. With the help of his wife he gave the girls a "finishing
+course." They were graduated with a paternoster done in red on a black
+background, or perhaps a pierced heart between two flower-pots. Then
+they were through and ready to become the grandmothers of their
+own generation.
+
+There was no natural science then. Even to-day there is room for
+improvement along this line. It is said that some advance has been
+made recently. It is more useful for a child to know how corn grows
+than to be able to call the name of it in a foreign language. I don't
+say that either is incompatible with the other.
+
+The public schools were most deficient at the time when Walter and
+Keesje were slowly crawling around the arena of honor; but I doubt if
+one could say much more of the "institutes" of to-day. I would advise
+everyone to visit such a school as he attended when a boy; and I am
+convinced that after this test many a father who has the welfare of
+his children at heart will prefer to keep them at home. One comes to
+the conclusion, that after all in the school of clever Master Miller,
+who was so clever that he got himself addressed as M'sieu Millaire,
+precious little was to be learned.
+
+Failing to make this test we continue to believe in the infallibility
+of M'sieu of Millaire. We always consider that one a great man whom
+we have known in childhood and haven't seen since.
+
+When I remarked a moment ago that school-teachers are paid so
+niggardly, I didn't mean that their remuneration was insufficient,
+considering the quality and quantity of the goods delivered--knowledge,
+scholarship, education. I only had in mind the bitterness of their
+lot, and the poor indemnity given to the man who spends his life in
+a wasp's nest.
+
+In addition to versifying, Pennewip had still another hobby, which gave
+him more claim to a throne than did anything else. He was possessed
+with the mania for classifying, a passion known to few, but still of
+not infrequent occurrence. I have never quite understood the disease;
+and I gave up my search for the "first cause" as soon as I saw how
+difficult it is to get around with a hobby-horse taken from somebody
+else's stable. So I am going to give only a short sketch of Pennewip's
+harmless animal.
+
+Everything that he saw, perceived, experienced he divided into
+families, classes, genera, species and sub-species, and made of the
+human race a sort of botanical garden, in which he was the Linne. He
+regarded that as the only possible way to grasp the final purpose
+of creation and clear up all obscure things, both in and out of
+school. He even went so far as to say that Walter's New Testament
+would have turned up again if Juffrouw Pieterse had only been able
+to tell to what class the man belonged who had bound the volume in
+black leather. But that was something she didn't know.
+
+As for myself, I shouldn't have said a word about Pennewip's mania for
+classifying everything, if I hadn't thought it might help me to give
+the reader a better picture of our hero and his surroundings. I should
+have preferred to leave the said Pennewip in undisturbed intercourse
+with the muses; but we shall have occasion later to refer to his
+poetic art, when we shall quote some poems by his pupils.
+
+After the usual general division into "animate" and "inanimate"--the
+good man gave the human race only one soul--followed a system that
+looked like a pyramid. On the top was God with the angels and
+spirits and other accessories, while the oysters and polyps and
+mussels were crawling about down near the base, or lying still--just
+as they pleased. Half way up stood kings, members of school-boards,
+mayors, legislators, theologians and D.D.'s. Next under these were
+professors and merchants who do not work themselves. Then came
+doctors of things profane, i. e., those driving double rigs, also
+lawyers and untitled preachers, the Colonel of the City Militia,
+the Rector of the Latin School. Philosophers (only those who have
+developed a system), doctors with one horse, doctors without any
+horse and poets were further down. Rather low down, and not far from
+the mussels, was the seventh sub-division of the third class of the
+"citizen population." Our hero would come under this sub-section.
+
+
+    Citizen Population, Class III., 7th Sub-Division.
+
+    People Living in Rented Flats.
+
+    a. Entrance for tenants only. Three-window front. Two stories,
+    with back-rooms. The boys sleep alone, dress, however, with
+    the girls. Fresh straw in case a baby is born. Learning French,
+    poems at Christmas. The girls are sometimes called Lena or Maria,
+    but seldom Louise. Darning. The boys work in offices. One girl
+    kept, sewing-girl, and "person for the rough work." Washing
+    at home. Read sermons by Palm. Pickled pork on Sundays, with
+    table-cloth, liquor after coffee. Religion. Respectability.
+
+    b 1. Still three windows. One story. Neighbors live above who ring
+    twice (Vide b. 2). Leentje, Mietje; Louise heard seldom. House-door
+    opened with a cord, which is sleek from long use. Sleep in one
+    room. Straw-heaps in cases of confinement. One maid-servant
+    for everything. Sundays cheese, no liquor, but religion and
+    respectability as above.
+
+    b 2. Neighbors who ring twice. About as above. No maid, only a
+    "person for the rough work." Seamstress. White table-cloth. Cheese
+    from time to time, only occasionally. Religion as above.
+
+    c. One story higher. Two-window front. Small projecting
+    back-room. The entire family sleeps in two beds. No trace of
+    straw. The boys are called Louw, Piet, or Gerrit, and become
+    watchmakers or type-setters. A few become sailors. Continual
+    wrangle with the neighbors about the waste-water. Religion as
+    above. Associate with "respectable folk." Read "Harlemmer" with
+    III. 7, b. 2. No maid, or person for rough work, but a seamstress
+    on seven stivers and a piece of bread and butter.
+
+
+That brings us to Juffrouw Pieterse.
+
+The reader will now have a very good idea of Walter's environment, and
+will readily understand why I said he had a "city complexion." That
+was when we saw him in the Hartenstraat, on the road to fame, or on
+the road to that nameless "other thing" of Juffrouw Laps. At all
+events he was on his way to things that will occupy our attention
+for some time yet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+It was Wednesday, and the Pieterses were going to give a
+party. Juffrouw Laps had been invited, also the Juffrouw living
+over the dairy, whose husband was employed at the "bourse." Further
+Mrs. Stotter, who had been a midwife for so long and was still merely
+"very respectable." Then the widow Zipperman, whose daughter had
+married some fellow in the insurance business, or something of the
+kind. Also the baker's wife. That was unavoidable: it was impossible
+to buy all kinds of pastry and cakes without her finding out what
+was up. Then the Juffrouw living below and to the rear. Of course
+she wouldn't come, but the Pieterses wanted to show that they had
+forgotten the late quarrel over the broken window-pane. If she didn't
+come that was the end of the matter, so far as Juffrouw Pieterse was
+concerned. She would have nothing more to do with the Juffrouw from
+below. I may add that the lady from below did not come, and that her
+name was stricken from the calling-list of those higher up.
+
+The children were to go to bed early, with the promise of a cup of
+sage-milk for breakfast if they would not make any noise the entire
+evening. This drink largely took the place of tea then. It was thought
+that the "noise" made by children would not be appreciated. Walter
+got permission to go play with the Halleman boys, who were thought
+to be very respectable. He must be at home by eight o'clock; but this
+was said in a tone that gave him no cause to fear a reprimand in case
+he should stay out later. Laurens, who of course was an apprentice to
+a printer, and usually came home about seven o'clock in the evening,
+was big enough to be present with the guests, but must promise to sit
+still and drink only two glasses. The big girls were to be present
+as a matter of course: They had been confirmed. Stoffel presided. His
+business was to meet the gentlemen when they came for the ladies about
+ten o'clock, and entertain the company with stories of Mungo Park.
+
+Leentje was to remain till the people were all there, as it was so
+inconvenient to have to open the door every time. She could make
+herself useful in arranging the table and doing other things incident
+to such occasions. But she "must move about a little brisker,"
+otherwise they would prefer to do everything themselves.
+
+The eldest of the girls, Juffrouw Truitje, must look after the
+"sage-milk." Pietje had charge of the sandwiches; but Myntje was to
+see to it that the butter was spread a little thicker, for the last
+time the bread had been too dry.
+
+Everything was going to turn out so nicely, "if only Juffrouw
+Laps wouldn't talk so much." That was her failing. And, too, they
+hoped that the widow Zipperman would "brag a little less about her
+son-in-law." This was considered a source of weariness. And the
+Juffrouw who lived over the dairy "might be more modest." She had
+"never lived in such a fine house"; and as for the shop--that was no
+disgrace; and on the top floor--but one cannot tell how it will be.
+
+No one understood why the baker's wife used so many French words, which
+was not becoming in one of her station. "If she does it this evening,
+Stoffel, say something to me that she can't understand, then she will
+find out that we are not 'from the street,' that we know what's what."
+
+"It's all the same to me," Juffrouw Pieterse continued, "whether the
+Juffrouw downstairs comes or not. I don't care a fig about it.--Four,
+five--Louw can sit there, but he must keep his legs still--and a chair
+there--yes--so! It's a good thing she's not coming; it would have been
+too crowded. Leentje, go to work--do blow your nose! No, run over to
+Juffrouw Laps's and ask the Juffrouw if the Juffrouw could spare a
+few stools--without backs, you understand; because the chairs there
+by the chimney--yes, ask the Juffrouw for a few stools, and tell the
+Juffrouw that they are for me, and that I expect the Juffrouws about
+seven. Give my compliments to the Juffrouw and wipe your nose."
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse didn't like to use personal pronouns; it was
+impolite.
+
+On this afternoon Walter went to his bridge early. It was now not
+so useless as usual, for the rain of the day before had filled the
+ditch with water, which was even running, so that the straws which
+Walter thoughtlessly, or full of thought--both are about the same
+thing--threw into the water were carried down to the pond, where
+the logs lay that were to be sawed up by the "Eagle" and the "Early
+Hour." These were the names of the sawmills that for some weeks had
+been the witnesses of Walter's daydreams.
+
+Glorioso was gone, and could not be replaced; but on those afternoons
+when he was free Walter returned involuntarily to the spot where he had
+had his first glimpse of the world of romance. How rough and crude the
+colors in that first picture! Perhaps it was the very roughness of the
+colors that attracted him and changed him, till he could not conceive
+how he had ever found enjoyment in the little cakes on the corner.
+
+A peculiar prospective had opened up before him. He dreamed of things
+that he could not name; but they made him bitterly dissatisfied with
+his present condition. He was anxious to do everything prescribed
+to get to Heaven; but he thought it would be much easier to pray in
+such a cave with wax candles. And as for honoring his mother, a point
+upon which she always laid great stress--why didn't she have a train
+like the countess? Certainly he ought not to have sold the Bible;
+and he wouldn't do it any more--he had vowed it; but then he ought
+to have had a box filled with florins, and a feather in his cap,
+just as it was in the book.
+
+He was disgusted with his brother Stoffel, and his sisters, and
+Juffrouw Laps, and the preacher and everything. He couldn't understand
+why the whole family didn't go to Italy and form a respectable
+robber-band. But Pennewip and Keesje shouldn't go; that was certain.
+
+He wondered what had become of his verses. Every Wednesday such
+pupils as had been well-behaved, and, for that reason, deemed worthy
+to contest for the "laurel," handed in a poem written on some subject
+suggested by the teacher. This time the subject assigned to Walter was
+"Goodness," which probably had some reference to his former behavior,
+and was a hint for the improvement of his moral character. But Walter
+had already put goodness into rhyme so often, and found the subject so
+dry and tedious and worn-out that he had taken the liberty of "singing"
+something else. He selected the theme nearest his heart--robbers!
+
+Like all authors he was greatly infatuated with his work. He was
+convinced that the teacher, too, would see the excellencies of his poem
+and forgive him for deviating from the path of goodness. The verses
+would undoubtedly be sent to the mayor, and he would pass them on to
+the Pope, who would then summon Walter and appoint him "Court-robber."
+
+And thus he dreamed and threw his straws into the stream. They
+moved away slowly and disappeared between the moss-covered
+timbers. Involuntarily his fancy had transmuted them into the
+characters of his world of romance. There went the countess with
+her long train, which got caught in the moss and held the countess
+fast. The virtuous Amalia met with no better luck; she got tangled
+up in the water lentils. And now came Walter himself. He approached
+Amalia, in her green robes, and was just about to rescue her, when
+he was swallowed by a duck. This was most unkind of the duck, for
+it was Walter's last stalk of grass; and now in the rattling and
+buzzing of the sawmills below he could hear Amalia repeating in a
+reproachful voice:
+
+
+            "Warre, warre, warre, we;
+            Where is warre, warre, wall--
+            Walter, who will rescue me?"
+
+
+This annoyed him, and he could not resist the temptation to throw
+a rock at the duck whose greediness had caused Amalia to doubt his
+chivalry.
+
+The duck chose the better part, and retired after she had done Walter
+all the damage she could. But the sawmills paid no attention to these
+happenings and continued to rattle away.
+
+Walter heard now in the noisy clatter of the mills all kinds of songs
+and stories, and, listening to these, he soon forgot Amalia and the
+Pope. That the reader may not get a wrong impression of these mills,
+I hasten to say that there was really nothing extraordinary about
+them. They buzzed and rattled just like other sawmills.
+
+It often happens that we think we perceive something which comes from
+the external world, when in fact it is only a subjective product in
+ourselves. Similarly, we may think we have just imagined something,
+when really it came to us from the world of the senses.
+
+This is a kind of ventriloquism that often gives cause for annoyance
+and enmity.
+
+I wonder which turns the faster?--Walter listened to the mills. Now--I
+think--no, begin together. Good! No, the Eagle was ahead! Once
+more--now!
+
+Which will get there first? No, that won't do. Once more together. Look
+sharp, Morning Hour,--out again! I can't hold my eye on it--what a
+whirling and buzzing!
+
+You are tired, are you? I believe it.
+
+If I might only sit on such a big wing, wouldn't I hold on tight? And
+wouldn't the sawyer look?
+
+Why are you called "Morning Hour"? Have you gold in your mouth? And
+"Eagle"! Can you fly? Take me with you. What a big play-ground up
+there, and no school!
+
+I wonder how the first school began. Which came first, the school,
+or the teacher? But the first teacher must have attended a school. And
+the first school must have had a teacher.
+
+So the first school must have just started itself. But that is
+impossible. "Eagle," can you turn yourself?--with the wind? Can you
+turn yourself some other way? Try it. Beat "Morning Hour." Quick,
+quick--beautiful!
+
+Now, once more alone. Good!
+
+Now, together again! Karre, karre, kra, kra--stretch your arms out and
+take me with you. Will you? Put your hat on, Eagle; how the ribbons
+fly.--Who are you? Warre, warre, ware, wan--I can't help it; it was the
+duck. Tell me what your name is. Fanny, fanny, fanny, fan---- Is your
+name fan? And you, Morning Hour, what is your name? Ceny, ceny, ceny,
+ce. What kind of a name is Ce? Now together--sing a song together:
+
+
+            Fanny, fanny, fanny, fan--
+            Ceny, ceny, ceny, ce--
+            Fanny, ceny, fanny, ceny,
+            Fanny, ceny, fan--cy.
+
+
+Fancy--what do you mean by that? Is that the name of both of you? And
+what is it? Has it wings?
+
+"Morning Hour" and "Eagle" had fused into something that had wings
+and was called fancy.
+
+Fancy lifted Walter up and bore him away.
+
+When she brought him back to the bridge again it had already been
+dark for a long time. He shook himself as if he were wet, rubbed his
+eyes and started home. We shall see later what awaited him there;
+but first we must go back a few hours. I hope the reader will not
+disdain an invitation to Juffrouw Pieterse's. Remember that her
+husband never made anything, but bought everything ready-made in Paris.
+
+In passing by I should like to make Master Pennewip a short visit.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+School was out; and the seats looked as if the pupils had just left
+the tediousness of it all lying there. The map of Europe looked down
+peevishly on the heap of writing-pads. There lay the mutilated and
+well-worn goose-quills, which since time immemorial have opened up
+the gates of learning. True, the black-board vaunted itself with the
+heavy results of the last lesson in "fractions"; but the school was
+no more. The spirit had fled: It was a corpse.
+
+Yes, the "Geist" had gone out with the children; for the reader will
+see in a moment that they carried about with them a tremendous amount
+of that article.
+
+We already know that this was the great day when Pennewip was to
+criticise the poetical effusions of his young geniuses. There he sat,
+his restless wig sharing all the poetical feelings and emotions--and
+motions--of its owner. We will just look over his shoulder and read
+with him those inestimable treasures of poetic art; and perhaps we
+too shall be moved to emotion.
+
+Wig: In the middle, resting quietly.
+
+
+    Lucas de Bryer: "Our Native Land."
+
+    Cake and wine and native land,
+    Out in the moonlight I take my stand;
+    Our native land and cake and wine,
+    And I hope the moon will shine;
+    Five fingers have I on my hand,
+    All to honor our native land.
+
+
+"Melodious," said the teacher, "very melodious; and very profound. Cake
+and wine, with our native land as a climax."
+
+Wig: On the right side.
+
+
+    Lizzie Webbelar: "My Father's Vocation."
+
+    The cat is sly, I know;
+    My father is a dealer in Po-
+    Tatoes and onions.
+
+
+"Original, immediate! But I don't like the way she cuts her potatoes
+in twain."
+
+Wig: On the left side.
+
+
+    Jeanette Rust: "The Weather-cock."
+
+    He stands on the chimney since long ago,
+    And shows the wind which way to blow.
+
+
+"Smooth, but not quite correct, if examined closely--but I'll let it
+pass as poetic license."
+
+Wig: Down in front.
+
+
+    Leendert Snelleman: "Lent."
+
+    In Lent it is always nice,
+    My brother's birth-day is in May,
+    He says his feet need warming,
+    So that Lent we must be praising,
+    And then we're going to celebrate,
+    Easter brings eggs and a holiday.
+
+
+"It's too bad that he's so careless with his rhymes. His imagination
+is extraordinary. Very original."
+
+Wig: Down on his neck.
+
+
+    Keesje, the Butcher's Boy: "In Praise of the Teacher."
+
+    My father has slaughtered many a steer,
+    But Master Pennewip is still living, I hear;
+    Some are lean, and some are well-fed,
+    He has slipped his wig to the side of his head.
+
+
+The wig actually went to the side of his head.
+
+"Well, this is curious. I hardly know what to say about it."
+
+The wig slipped to the other side.
+
+"What's the connection between me and steers?"
+
+The wig protested vigorously against any implication of relationship
+with steers.
+
+"H--mm! Can it be that this is what our new-fangled writers call
+humour?"
+
+The wig sank down to his eyebrows, which signified doubt.
+
+"I will call up the boy and----"
+
+The wig passed again to the zenith, to express its satisfaction with
+the teacher's determination to interview the butcher's boy.
+
+
+    Lucas de Wilde: "Religion."
+
+    Religion very nice must be,
+    Much it pleases the people we see.
+
+
+"The fundamental idea is very beautiful," said the teacher, "but it
+ought to have been developed better."
+
+The wig nodded acquiescence.
+
+
+    Trudie Gier: "Juffrouw Pennewip."
+
+    The path of virtue she shows us each day,
+    And we are glad to go that way;
+    And as there's nothing to do more fitting,
+    She teaches us sewing, darning and knitting.
+
+
+The wig fairly leaped with pleasure, and the curls embraced one
+another. This out-pouring of Trudie's heart was borne at once to
+Juffrouw Pennewip, and was later hung by the fireplace in honor of
+the poetess and the subject of the poem.
+
+Then followed a sublime poem on God by Klaasje van der Gracht, the
+son of the Catechist. He was thirteen years old, and had not been
+vaccinated--out of regard for predestination.
+
+"If only his father didn't help him!"
+
+The wig was rigid with astonishment.
+
+
+    Louwtje de Wilde: "Friendship."
+
+    Friendship very nice must be,
+    Much it pleases the people we see.
+
+
+The wig seemed dissatisfied. The "Religion" of Lucas de Wilde was
+pulled out and compared with Louwtje's "Friendship."
+
+"H--emm. It is possible. Another example of how one thought can
+originate in two heads at the same time."
+
+
+    Wimpje de Wilde: "Fishing."
+
+    Fishing very----
+
+
+"What's that?"
+
+Yes, really, there it was again:
+
+
+    Fishing very nice must be,
+    Much it pleases the people we see.
+
+
+The wig was moving continually. It looked as if it were fishing too.
+
+The teacher looked hurriedly through the remaining poems and picked out
+the offspring of the entire Wilde connection. His worst suspicions were
+realized. Mietje de Wilde, Kees de Wilde, Piet and Jan de Wilde--all
+uniformly declared that religion, friendship, fishing, dreaming,
+cauliflower and deception "very nice must be," and that they were
+also very pleasing "to the people we see." A regular flood of the
+nice and pleasing.
+
+Now, what do you suppose the wig did? It did the best thing that
+could be done under the circumstances. More could not be expected of a
+wig. As soon as it saw the futility of its efforts to comprehend the
+difference between fishing, friendship, deception, dreams, religion
+and cauliflower, it merely ignored the whole matter, readjusted itself
+and assumed an expression of expectancy for what was yet to come.
+
+
+    Leentje de Haas: "Admiral de Ruyter."
+
+    Pulling the rope with emotion,
+      To the top of the mast he came,
+    And then he went to the ocean,
+      And won for himself great fame.
+
+    And very much more he perfected,
+      Saleh he vanquished, too;
+    A hero he was then elected,
+      With nothing else to do.
+
+
+The wig lifted itself, the curls applauding enthusiastically. It was
+evidently pleased.
+
+
+    Grete Wauzer: "The Caterpillar."
+
+    The caterpillar, free from care,
+    Crawls on the tree just over there.
+
+
+"Descriptive poetry. A daring idea--the caterpillar crawling on the
+tree free from care."
+
+Wig: Quiet.
+
+Ah, the pleasure of a wig is short-lived! And how soon was this
+one--but I will not anticipate. Soon, all too soon, the reader will
+know the worst.
+
+
+    Walter Pieterse: "A Robber Song."
+
+
+"Aha, what's this? And 'goodness'? But where has he written on
+goodness?"
+
+The teacher could scarcely believe his eyes. He turned the sheet of
+paper over and examined the back side, hoping to discover there some
+lines on goodness.
+
+Then he saw that on Walter's sheet there was not a trace of "goodness."
+
+Oh, wretched wig!
+
+Yes, wretched wig! For after it had suffered as never wig had
+suffered before, after it had been pulled at and tugged at
+and martyred in a manner beyond even the imagination of the
+Wilde family, Master Pennewip snatched it from his head,
+twisted it convulsively in his hands, stammered a short
+"Heaven-human-Christian-soul-good-gracious-my-life--how is it
+possible!" slapped it on his head again, covered it with his venerable
+cap and burst out the door like one possessed.
+
+He was on his way to Walter's home, where we shall soon see him
+arrive. As a conscientious historian, however, it will be my duty
+first to give an account of the happenings there.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+"Goodness, I'm glad to see you! And so early, too! Leetje, place a
+chair over there and get the footstool, but be in a hurry, or I'd
+rather do it myself. And how are you? Juffrouw Laps is coming too,
+you know--Myntje, you'd better be thinking of your dough and stop
+combing your head. That girl can't keep her hands off of her hair
+when there's company. But do take a seat--no, not in the corner;
+there's a draft there."
+
+There was no more draft in this corner than is usual to corners;
+but Mrs. Stotter was only a Vrouw, and not a "Juffrouw." She had
+no right to the seat of honour; for on all occasions a Juffrouw
+takes precedence of a Vrouw, just as a Mevrouw takes precedence of
+a Juffrouw. Everyone must keep his place, especially those in III,
+7, b1; or c., where etiquette is observed more closely than at the
+court of Madrid. The care and anxiety of the mistress of ceremonies
+make her work most trying, and, too, not merely for Juffrouw Pieterse.
+
+"Ah, my dear Juffrouw Pieterse, I was so surprised when Louwie came
+to invite me, for I had just remarked to Wimpje, who makes caps, you
+know--no, thank you, Pietje, I don't care for any just now--I said
+to Wimpje, I wonder what Juffrouw Pieterse is doing, for I hadn't
+heard from you in so long, you know--yes, just throw it aside, it's
+my old one; I knew you wouldn't mind my wearing my old one--and then
+Wimpje said----"
+
+What Wimpje really said I don't know. Mrs. Stotter's garment, which she
+had described as her "old one," was removed and placed on the foot of
+the bed in the back room. The children, who were piled together there
+like sardines, were duly admonished not to stretch out their feet,
+lest in doing so they injure Mrs. Stotter's "old" garment.
+
+"And now, my dear, be seated--yes, that's for us, twice
+already. Leentje, where are you hiding now? Can't you hear that
+somebody is ringing?--It's probably Juffrouw Zipperman. Juffrouw
+Zipperman is coming, too, you know."
+
+Again I am at a loss: I don't know whether it was Juffrouw Zipperman
+who had rung, or somebody else. But the reader need not scold me for
+writing a story that I don't know myself. I cannot be sure whether it
+was Juffrouw Zipperman this time or Juffrouw Mabbel, from the bakery,
+or Juffrouw Krummel, whose husband is at the bourse, or Juffrouw
+Laps--but she didn't need to ring, as she lived in the house. Anyway,
+by half past seven the entire company was assembled, and Stoffel was
+smoking his pipe as if his life depended upon it. Leentje had gone home
+without her piece of bread and butter. She "could get it to-morrow";
+to-day there was "so much to do," and "one can't do everything at once,
+you know."
+
+"And then she got another one right away--don't you know? One with
+a wart on her nose."
+
+"Ah, it's an ordeal one has with girls," said Juffrouw Pieterse. "Take
+another piece, don't wait to be insisted upon; it's a cake from your
+own dough."
+
+"Excusez," said the Juffrouw from the bakery, with a mouth like a
+rabbit, a style of mouth signifying graciousness and good breeding.
+
+"You must eat more, or I shall think you don't like it." She had
+baked it herself.
+
+"Then I cannot refuse, Juffrouw Pieterse. ObligÈ and many thanks."
+
+"And you, Juffrouw Laps, what can I pass you?" Juffrouw Laps selected
+ginger cake.
+
+"Fill the cups, Trudie! Yes, Mrs. Stotter, when you are here you must
+drink with us. You are welcome to anything we've got. Pietje, wipe off
+a table--such a girl! And now go and look after the baby, and tell
+her that I don't want to hear any more noise. Ah, Juffrouw Mabbel,
+children are a great deal of trouble. And your little Sientje--how
+is her cough now?"
+
+"We've got a magnetisier, but that isn't enough. We must have the
+clairvoyange of the sonnebule."
+
+"You don't say so! One can hardly believe it. And when is he coming,
+the cler--cleek--clar----"
+
+"It's in the nerves, Juffrouw Zipperman. But he has the little nightcap
+and nightgown, in which she has sweated, you know; and he says that
+it will come all right now."
+
+"Who would have thought it! What will you do now?"
+
+"That's just it; the sonnebule must tell us what to do."
+
+Juffrouw Laps could not agree to this.
+
+"I wouldn't do it--I wouldn't do it--not for anything in the world! I
+tell you, what God does is all right. Just mark my words!"
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw Laps; but the Juffrouw at the provision store did it,
+and her child is lots better."
+
+"That's what you say, Juffrouw Mabbel, but I tell you there is
+something in her eye that I don't like."
+
+"What then, Juffrouw Laps?"
+
+"She has a look, a look--and it's sin--I tell you it is. It's wrong,
+it won't do. What God does is all right."
+
+"Come, Stoffel, talk some. You sit there like a stone. Recite a poem,
+or tell us something about your school. Would you believe it, Juffrouw
+Mabbel, he knows a whole poem by heart. And he has memorized all the
+verbs of the feminine gender."
+
+"Mother, what are you talking about?" said Stoffel, displeased. "Don't
+you see I'm smoking?"
+
+"Yes, dear, I meant when you were through smoking. Then you can repeat
+the words. You will be surprised, Juffrouw Zipperman, and wonder where
+he learned it all. How does it go? 'I would have been drunk, he would
+have been drunk'--of course, you know, he was not drunk, it belongs
+with the verbs. You will kill yourself laughing when he begins. Fill
+the cups, Trudie, and blow in the spout; there's a leaf over it."
+
+The reader will not take it amiss, I trust, if I pass over the
+subsequent history of this leaf, and, too, make some deviations from
+the text of the conversation during the further course of Juffrouw
+Pieterse's tea-evening. Stoffel spun off his conjugations and the
+ladies fairly shrieked when he related how "he had been drunk" and
+that "he would be drunk." Thereupon followed general and particular
+criticism of the neighbors. The Juffrouw below received her share,
+as a matter of course: She was absent.
+
+Religion and faith play an important part. Juffrouw Laps was for
+organizing a prayer-class. The preachers of to-day, she insisted,
+take their work too lightly and don't sweep out all the corners.
+
+"I tell you, it's in the Bible that man is only man," she cried;
+"that's what I want to tell you. Man must not try to know better than
+God himself. Salvation comes through grace, and grace through faith;
+but if a man is not chosen, then he has no grace and can have no
+faith. That's the way he is damned, don't you see? I tell you, it's
+just as certain as twice two--understand? And for that reason I want
+to have a prayer-class. Not for the sake of money or profit--God help
+me, no! At most just a trifle for the fair, or for New Year. What do
+you think of the plan, Juffrouw Mabbel?"
+
+That lady expressed the opinion that her husband would be opposed to
+it, for he liked to go out of evenings, and then she must stay in the
+shop. Besides, it was so difficult to get through with the work. No
+one could imagine what a laborious occupation baking was.
+
+"What do you say, Juffrouw Zipperman? Don't you think it would be a
+go? I would serve coffee; and the people could leave something on the
+saucers. Really, I am not doing it for the money. We would begin with
+the Old Testament--and then--exercise, you know; practice--understand?"
+
+Juffrouw Zipperman thought it would be very nice; but her son-in-law
+had said that the preachers are paid to do this, and that any
+additional "exercise" was merely an unnecessary expense.
+
+"What do you say to it, Juffrouw Krummel? Don't you think that such
+a class--just a small class----"
+
+Juffrouw Krummel said she practiced with her husband when he came
+from the bourse.
+
+Juffrouw Laps was now forced to turn to Mrs. Stotter, though she felt
+that she was letting herself down in appealing to a Vrouw.
+
+"Ah, my dear Juffrouw Laps, if you had been a midwife as long
+as I have you'd take no interest in a prayer-class. Now there is
+M'neer Littelman in Prince Street. I've been at his house--always in
+respectable houses--and he always said--it's a house with high steps,
+and in the hall there's a big clock about the wind and rain--and he
+always said: 'Vrouw Stotter,' said he, 'you're a good woman,' said he,
+'and a faithful midwife. I always tell the people that,' said he,
+'and,' said he, 'all of my connection must send for you,' said he,
+'but,' said he, 'when people tell you this you must act as if you
+didn't hear it'--thank you, Juffrouw Pieterse, my cup is turned
+over. Just as I said: Everyone must know what he's doing."
+
+"But just a little exercise like that, Mrs. Stotter!"
+
+"It's possible, it's possible. But I've had so much experience in such
+things. I go my own way; and that's the best way, too. For I've been in
+the home of M'neer Witte, who has an uncle in congress--for I always
+go to respectable places--and he always said, because he's so funny:
+'Child-woman, child-woman, you're nothing but a child-woman.' I was
+just going to say that I know what I'm doing, for I've seen a lot in
+my life. There's M'neer--what's his name? There in Prince Street--no,
+no, Market Square. Oh, what is his name!"
+
+The reader will have noticed that Mrs. Stotter digressed from the
+theme. But other folk do the same.
+
+"And Juffrouw Pieterse, what do you think of the idea? Just a little
+exercise."
+
+"Ah, my dear, I have exercise enough with my children. You don't know
+what it means to bring up nine. I always worship with the children,
+for the Bible says--Trudie, go to the baby; I hear her again."
+
+There was something noble in Trudie's gait as she walked into that
+back room. One could see that she felt flattered by the transmission
+to her of maternal dignity. Little Kee, the baby, was less flattered.
+
+"What were we talking about? Yes, that is my religious service. The
+children keep me busy. You don't know anything about it; if I bring
+them up properly--run, Pietje, and straighten out Simon. He's pinching
+his sister again; he always does it when there's company."
+
+Simon was straightened out.
+
+"Whenever we have company the children behave so badly. There it
+goes again. Myntje, go and see what's the matter and tell them to go
+to sleep."
+
+Myntje went, returning immediately with the report that they had
+"turned something over."
+
+General indignation. Angry message from the Juffrouw below. It was
+unpleasant for the Juffrouw below when the children of the Juffrouw
+above turned over things and flooded the back room. Terrible
+excitement.
+
+Finally the children were straightened out.
+
+Juffrouw Zipperman again sat in the corner where there was such a
+"draft." This only goes to show that earthly greatness has its dark
+side, and that a son-in-law in the insurance business entitles one
+to rheumatism.
+
+Juffrouw Laps was greatly pleased with the hearty manner in which
+punishment was meted out to the children. It was exactly according
+to Scripture, she said; and then she cited a text or two in which
+the rod was prescribed. It's in the Bible somewhere, I don't know
+where. The Bible mentions everything, and the "rod" especially.
+
+"Now, Stoffel," said the hostess sweetly, "recite something for
+us." She wanted to show that her children could do something else
+besides pinch and turn things over.
+
+"I don't know anything," said Stoffel, but without a trace of Socratic
+arrogance.
+
+"Just say for us what you said the other day. Come, Stoffel. That's
+the way he always is, Juffrouw Mabbel. One has to pull him up on his
+feet before he will do anything. But then he goes all right. Forward,
+Stoffel! He's tired now. Teaching in such a school is hard work. Yes,
+Juffrouw, he's as smart as he can be. Would you believe it? All words
+are either masculine or feminine. Aren't they, Stoffel?"
+
+"No, mother."
+
+"No? But--and the other day you said--it's only to get him started,
+you know, Juffrouw Zipperman, it takes a little time, because he's
+worn out with his school work--but you said that all words----"
+
+"No, mother. Masculine, feminine or neuter, I said."
+
+"Yes, and still more," said Juffrouw Pieterse. "You will be astonished
+when you hear him. What do you suppose you are, Juffrouw Krummel?"
+
+"I? What I am?"
+
+"Yes, yes, what you are--what you really are."
+
+"I am Juffrouw Krummel," she said, but doubtfully; for she read in
+the triumphant look of Juffrouw Pieterse and the tightly closed lips
+of Stoffel that she might easily be something entirely different from
+Juffrouw Krummel.
+
+The tension did not need to be farther increased; so Juffrouw Pieterse
+passed now from the special to the general. Her glance took in the
+entire company.
+
+"And you, too, Juffrouw Mabbel; and you, Juffrouw Laps; and you,
+Juffrouw Zipperman; and you, Mrs. Stotter--what do you all think
+you are?"
+
+No one knew.
+
+This will not be surprising to anyone who knows how difficult knowledge
+of the "self" is; but Stoffel had something else in mind. There was
+a deeper meaning involved.
+
+Juffrouw Laps was the first to answer, and she spoke with proud
+self-sufficiency:
+
+"I am Juffrouw Laps!"
+
+"Wrong, wrong--entirely wrong!"
+
+"But for Heaven sake, am I not Juffrouw Laps?"
+
+"Y-e-s. Of course you are Juffrouw Laps; but Stoffel didn't ask who
+you were, but what you were. There's the fine point."
+
+"What I am? I'm Dutch Reform!"
+
+"Y-e-s. That you are, too; but--it isn't that. The question is,
+What are you? Help her out, Stoffel."
+
+Between puffs of smoke, and with the air of a professor, Stoffel
+proceeded to "help":
+
+"Juffrouw Laps, I wished to know what you were from a zoˆlogical
+standpoint."
+
+"I won't have anything more to do with it," said Juffrouw Laps in
+the tone of one who feels that he is going to be insulted.
+
+"I am a midwife," said Mrs. Stotter, "and I'm going to stick to it."
+
+"And I am the baker's wife," cried Juffrouw Mabbel, with a positiveness
+in her tone which showed her intention to hold to this opinion.
+
+"Certainly, certainly, Juffrouw Mabbel; but I mean from a zoˆlogical
+standpoint."
+
+"If it's going to be indecent, I prefer to go home."
+
+"I, too," added Juffrouwen Krummel and Zipperman. "We came here to
+be entertained."
+
+"But you're not going to get angry about it! I tell you, it's in
+the book, Stoffel--you will laugh when you hear it, Juffrouw Mabbel;
+and the best part of it is, that it's in the book, and one can't say
+anything against it. Tell her, Stoffel!"
+
+"Juffrouw Laps," said Stoffel with dignity--an important moment in
+Juffrouw Pieterse's tea-evening had arrived--"Juffrouw Laps, you are
+a sucking animal."
+
+I admit frankly that I cannot adequately describe the crisis that
+followed these two words. If Stoffel had only said mammal, perhaps
+then my task would have been easier.
+
+Juffrouw Laps's face took on all the different colors that are
+generally supposed to express anger. She had been attacked more openly
+than the others, it is true; but her attitude toward the prayer-class
+would go to show that she was naturally polemical.
+
+In French novels people used to turn green; but Juffrouw Laps did not
+read French, so she stopped at a terrible violet and screamed--no,
+she didn't. She didn't scream anything; for she was choking for
+breath. But she did pulverize that piece of ginger cake; and she
+looked at Stoffel and his mother in a manner that would have been most
+damaging for her if those two persons had happened to die that night.
+
+Imitating the trick of the cuttle-fish, no doubt unconsciously,
+Stoffel managed to escape this fatal stare by enveloping himself in a
+heavy cloud of smoke. Juffrouw Pieterse, however, not being a smoker,
+was at the mercy of Juffrouw Laps. She stammered humbly: "It's in
+the book, really it's in the book. Don't be angry, it's in the book."
+
+By this time Juffrouw Laps was getting a little air, so much that
+there was now no danger of her suffocating. She threw the mutilated
+remains of the ginger cake on the table and began:
+
+"Juffrouw Pieterse, you are nothing but a low, vile, filthy--you
+may even be a sucking animal, you and your son too. I want you
+to understand that I've always been respectable. My father sold
+grain, and nobody's ever been able to say anything against me! Ask
+everybody about me--if I've ever run with men-folk, and such things;
+and if I haven't always paid my debts. He was manager I would have
+you understand, and we lived over the chapter-house, for he was in
+the grain business, and you can ask about me there. Thank God, you
+can ask about me everywhere--do you hear? But never, never, never,
+has such a thing happened to me. What you put on me! If it wasn't
+for lowering myself I'd tell you what I think of you--you sucking
+animal, you and your son and your whole family. My father sold grain,
+and I'm too respectable for you to----"
+
+"But--it's in the book that way. For God's sake believe me; it's in
+the book."
+
+"Just hold your lip about your book. Anybody who sells God's holy
+word on the Ouwebrug needn't talk to me about books."
+
+This accusation was false; for Walter, and not his mother, had sold
+the Bible; but this was no time for such fine distinctions.
+
+"Stoffel, go get the book and show Juffrouw--my God, what shall I do!"
+
+"Go to the Devil with your book and your sucking animals. You've got
+nothing to show in your book. I know you--and your lout of a son,
+and your wenches of daughters, that are growing up like----"
+
+Truitje, Myntje and Pietje, understanding from this that there
+was something radically wrong with their growth, began to screech
+too. Other members of the party bawled a word from time to time,
+as opportunity presented itself. Then came another message from the
+Juffrouw below. This time she threatened to call in the police. The
+children, taking advantage of the general excitement to break the
+ban under which they had been placed, had left the bed and were
+now listening at the keyhole. Juffrouw Pieterse was calling for the
+camphor bottle, declaring that she was going to die; Mrs. Stotter
+was clamoring for her wrap--her "old one"; and Stoffel was playing
+cuttle-fish as well as he could.
+
+All had got up and were going to leave. They could "put up with a
+good deal," but that was "too much"! Juffrouw Krummel was going to
+tell her husband; Juffrouw Zipperman was going to let everybody in the
+insurance business know about it; Mrs. Stotter was going to relate the
+whole story to the gentleman in Prince Street; and Juffrouw Mabbel--I
+forget whom she was going to tell it all to. In short, every one of
+them was going to see to it that the affair was well aired.
+
+Who knows but what these threats would have been carried out, if the
+good genius of the Pieterses had not at that moment caused someone
+to ring the door-bell? It was that worthy gentleman whom we left in
+such a state of pious despair at the close of the last chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+Yes, the door-bell rang. And it rang again: So it was "for
+us." Juffrouw Pieterse drew a long breath; and I must say, she did
+a very proper thing. While admitting that it is foolish to say what
+one would do if one were somebody else, still, in her place I should
+have drawn a long breath, too. Firstly, because I imagine she hadn't
+done this for a long time; secondly, because I know how, in adverse
+circumstances, every change and interruption gives one ground for
+hope; and, finally, because I think Juffrouw Pieterse was human,
+just like the rest of us.
+
+"Ah, my dears," she said, "be peaceable. It must be the gentlemen."
+
+The ladies declared it couldn't be the gentlemen, because it was
+too early for them; and this very doubt and uncertainty as to who it
+might be gave the crisis a favorable turn.
+
+Mere uncertainty, even when in no way connected with what is occupying
+us, has a sort of paralyzing effect. Besides, when one is interrupted
+in one's anger, afterwards it is difficult to find the place where
+one left off.
+
+This was Juffrouw Laps's experience; she tried it, but it wouldn't
+work. Her "a sucking animal, a sucking animal!" was smothered by,
+"What can it mean? He never comes before ten!"
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse quickly availed herself of this diversion to get
+them all seated again.
+
+Trudie was commissioned to "straighten out" the children, who came off
+rather badly. The hostess was just about to state a new zoˆlogical
+argument, which should establish peace between the hostile parties,
+when the door opened and Master Pennewip stood before the agitated
+assembly.
+
+He, too, was agitated: the reader knows it.
+
+The surprise caused by the arrival of this unexpected visitor had a
+most favorable effect on the peace negotiations. A truce was tacitly
+declared, though not without the proviso, at least on Juffrouw Laps's
+part, that hostilities should be reopened as soon as curiosity as to
+Pennewip's visit had been sufficiently satisfied. Indeed, she was
+all the more willing for a truce, as it was evident from the man's
+appearance that there was something momentous at hand. His wig cried
+out fire and murder in unmistakable tones. And that was just what
+the good Juffrouw Laps liked.
+
+"Good-evening, Juffrouw Pieterse; my humblest respects. I see you
+have company, but----"
+
+"That 'doesn't make a bit of difference,' Master Pennewip. 'Come
+right in and take a seat.'"
+
+These forms of expression were rigidly observed in the "citizen
+populace," III, 7. c.
+
+"Won't you drink a cup with us?"
+
+"Juffrouw Pieterse," he said with extreme dignity, "I didn't come
+here simply to drink a cup of sage-milk."
+
+"But, Master Pennewip, please be seated!"
+
+It wasn't easy; but the ladies made room and he was soon seated.
+
+He cleared up his throat and looked about him with dignity. Then
+he drew a roll of manuscript from his pocket, disarranged his wig
+and spoke:
+
+"Juffrouw Pieterse! You are a worthy, respectable woman, and your
+husband sold shoes----"
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse looked triumphantly at Juffrouw Laps.
+
+"Yes, Master Pennewip, quite so; he did----"
+
+"Don't interrupt me, Juffrouw Pieterse. Your departed husband sold
+shoes. I have taught your children from little tots up to their
+confirmation. Haven't I, Juffrouw Pieterse?"
+
+"Yes, Master Pennewip," she replied modestly; for she was afraid of
+that excessive dignity in Pennewip's manner and voice.
+
+"And I just want to ask you, Juffrouw Pieterse, whether, during all
+this time that your children were in my school, you ever heard any
+complaints--reasonable complaints--of the manner in which I, with
+my wife, instructed your children in reading, writing, arithmetic,
+national history, psalmody, sewing, knitting, drawing and religion? I
+put the question to you, Juffrouw Pieterse, and wait for a reply."
+
+An awful silence followed this speech. The Juffrouw below had every
+reason to be satisfied.
+
+"But, Master Pennewip----"
+
+"I don't want any 'but', Juffrouw Pieterse. I ask you, whether you
+have had any complaints. I mean, of course, well grounded complaints
+about my instruction in reading, writing, arithmetic----"
+
+"Well, no, Master Pennewip, I have no complaints; but----"
+
+"So-oo? No complaints? Well, then I will explain to you--where is
+your son Walter?"
+
+"Walter? Dear me! Hasn't he come home, Trudie? He went to take a
+walk with the Halleman boys. They are such respectable children,
+Master Pennewip, and they live----"
+
+"So! With the Hallemans--who go to the French school! Aha, and
+that's it? So--from the Hallemans! And he learns such things from the
+Hallemans--the Hallemans III, 7, a2, perhaps 'a'--yes, who knows but
+that it might be II. It's no wonder--immorality, viciousness--at the
+French school! And now, Juffrouw Pieterse, I want to tell you that
+your son----"
+
+"What did you say?"
+
+Master Pennewip looked about him as if he were drinking in the
+breathless silence that had fallen over his hearers.
+
+Juffrouw Laps hastened to repay with compound interest that triumphant
+look of the hostess, while that lady, thoroughly miserable, was making
+frequent use of the camphor bottle. She was not so much mortified that
+Juffrouw Laps should hear something else unfavorable about Walter,
+who had caused them so much trouble, as angry that she should be
+the witness of an accusation that would give her a new weapon in the
+zoˆlogical fray.
+
+"Didn't I tell you so? Nothing good will ever come to this Walter. A
+boy that begins with the Bible will end with something else. Yes,
+Master Pennewip, I'm not surprised--I shouldn't be surprised at
+anything he did. I've seen it coming for a long time. But what
+shouldn't one expect from a family----"
+
+As quick as a flash Juffrouw Pieterse saw here her opportunity to
+recover her lost advantage. Stoffel had said it was in the book;
+but a teacher must know whatever is in a book. Therefore----
+
+"Master Pennewip," she cried, "Is it true that Juffrouw Laps is a
+sucking animal?"
+
+I am convinced that Pennewip brought this question under a special
+category for "peculiar overflowings of the heart," seeing that it
+followed upon his unfinished accusation against Walter. He looked
+over his glasses and slowly described with his eye a circle, peopled
+with women holding their breath, heads and necks stretched out and
+mouths wide open. The attitude of Juffrouw Laps was threatening above
+everything else, and said quite distinctly: Answer or die! Am I a
+sucking animal?
+
+"With whom have I the honor to speak?" he asked, probably not
+considering that this question made the matter still more mysterious,
+giving the impression that Laps's animal quality depended upon her
+name, age, place of residence, family relations, etc.
+
+"I am Juffrouw Laps," she said, "and live down stairs in the front
+part of the house."
+
+"Ah--so! Yes, indeed you belong to the class of sucking animals."
+
+A ten-fold sigh was heaved; and Juffrouw Pieterse was again
+triumphant. In politics and the citizen populace complete equilibrium
+is impossible. The parties or powers are in continual motion, first
+one in the ascendency, then the other.
+
+Juffrouw Laps, who had not been able to accomplish anything with pride,
+now attempted good humor.
+
+"But Master Pennewip," she said sweetly, "how can you say such a
+thing? My father was in the grain business and----"
+
+"Juffrouw Laps, answer me one question."
+
+"Yes, Master Pennewip, but----"
+
+"Answer me, Juffrouw Laps, where do you live?"
+
+"Where I live? Why, in my room, down stairs--two windows--front
+entrance----"
+
+"You miss the significance of my question entirely, Juffrouw Laps. The
+meaning would be similar if I were to ask you if you belonged to that
+class of organisms that live in oyster-shells."
+
+"Yes, yes, Juffrouw Laps," cried the triumphant hostess, "that's the
+point--the main point!"
+
+And Stoffel added that it was really and truly the main point.
+
+Juffrouw Laps saw that she was hopelessly lost, for she had to admit to
+herself that she didn't usually reside in an oyster-shell. She looked
+at the teacher with astonishment; but he paid no attention at all to
+the effect of his questions. Assuming a sort of legal manner--which
+was closely imitated by his wig, he continued:
+
+"Can you live in water? Have you gills?"
+
+"In water? But--Master Pennewip----"
+
+Wig to the left, which meant: No, but!
+
+"Or half in water, half on land?"
+
+"Master Pennewip, how should I----"
+
+Wig to the right: No subterfuges.
+
+"Answer me, Juffrouw Laps, have you cold blood? Do you bring living
+young into the world?"
+
+"It is a sin, Master Pennewip!"
+
+The wig now looked like a battering-ram, anticipating the nature of
+the next question.
+
+"Can you lay eggs, Juffrouw Laps? I only ask you the question. Can
+you lay eggs? Eh?"
+
+She said she couldn't.
+
+"Then you are a sucking animal, Juffrouw Laps!"
+
+The wig was in the middle again resting quietly. It had vanquished
+Juffrouw Laps.
+
+I wonder what the reader's idea is of the effect produced on the
+company by this terrible sentence, against which there could be no
+appeal. There was something pitiless in Pennewip's manner, and in
+his contracted eyebrows there was no intimation of mercy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+The attentive reader who knows human nature will naturally wish to
+know why I closed the last chapter so tamely, and why that zoˆlogical
+problem which, only a short time before had caused such a violent
+explosion, was now allowed to rest in peace.
+
+There are three reasons for this.
+
+Firstly, the women had been so wrought up that they were now exhausted.
+
+Secondly, Juffrouw Laps, the shrewd leader of the fight, looked over
+the battlefield and, without thinking of the famous battle between
+the Horatii and the Curiatii, saw with innate tactical talent the
+correctness of "divide and conquer." With the forces Stotter, Mabbel,
+Krummel and Zipperman against the house of Pieterse--that was all
+right. But now that the house was supported by Pennewip's powerful
+hand, it was prudent to withdraw from the battle. For who could
+guarantee her that she might depend upon her allies? What assurance
+had she that the midwife, or even Juffrouw Zipperman would not go over
+to the enemy?--if only out of deference to the versatile wig! No, no,
+no! She wouldn't risk her rhetorical artillery in such a doubtful
+engagement! She was content to say to herself, "I will get even
+with you later." Imagining her, with all her relations to society,
+multiplied by twenty or thirty millions, we would have read the next
+day in this or that official Laps organ something like this:
+
+"Our relations with the Pietersian empire are most cordial. The
+recent friendly meeting between the two sovereigns was merely that
+they might have the mutual pleasure of seeing one another, and had
+no political significance whatever. It will be seen how unfounded
+were those rumors of 'strained relations,' which were said to have
+been brought about by a discussion of certain characteristics of our
+popular princess. The reader will recall that we never gave credence
+to those rumors, and reported them with great reserve."
+
+Thirdly. The third and chief cause of the armistice
+was--curiosity. Under the present changed circumstances whoever
+betrayed any anger would have to leave; and whoever left would not
+find out why Master Pennewip had come, or what new crime Walter had
+committed. Again we see the truth of the proposition, that everything
+has its good side.
+
+"But, Master Pennewip," asked Juffrouw Pieterse--she threw the
+subdued sucking animal a look that was like a triumphant telegram,
+and read: Where are you now?--"but Master Pennewip, what has Walter
+been doing now?"
+
+"Yes, what has he been up to this time," added Juffrouw Laps, delighted
+that the conversation had taken this turn, and that she was now to
+hear about Walter's latest sin.
+
+For the sinner is a thing in which pious persons find much
+edification. As we have already seen, Juffrouw Laps was fond of
+edification.
+
+Pennewip was just on the point of beginning his indictment when the
+door-bell rang. It rang again: "It's for us"--and in a moment our
+truant walked into the room.
+
+He was paler than usual, and with good reason; for strange things
+had happened to him since Fancy had lifted him up and borne him away.
+
+"Juffrouw Pieterse," began Pennewip, "my school is famous, even as
+far away as Kattenburg. Do you hear me?"
+
+"Yes, Master Pennewip."
+
+"I repeat it: Famous! And, too, chiefly on account of the fine moral
+there--I mean, of course, in my school. Religion and morality occupy
+the first place in my school. I could show you verses on the Deity--but
+I pass over that. It is sufficient for you to know that my school is
+famous as far as--but what am I talking about--I've even had a boy
+from Wittenburg; and I was once consulted about the education of a
+boy whose father lived at Muiderberg."
+
+"Oh, Master Pennewip!"
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw, I still have the letter and could show it to you. The
+man was a gravedigger--the boy painted inappropriate figures on
+the coffins. And just for this reason I feel it my duty to tell you
+that I don't intend to see my school lose its good name through that
+good-for-nothing boy of yours there!"
+
+Poor Walter had fallen from the clouds. That sounded quite different
+from a papal appointment--which he really no longer cared for, as he
+had just received another appointment that pleased him better.
+
+His mother wanted to pass immediately to what she called her "divine
+worship" and give him a sound thrashing, in order to satisfy the
+teacher that religion and morality took the first place in her
+house, too.
+
+But the teacher found it preferable to tell the party what the
+trouble was, and incidentally to strengthen the feeling of guilt in
+the patient.
+
+"Your son belongs to the class of robbers, murderers, ravishers of
+women, incendiaries----"
+
+That was all.
+
+"Holy grace! Heavenly righteousness! Compassionate Christian souls! Ah,
+divine and human virtue, is it possible! What must we endure!"
+
+I cannot always be exact; but, in general, such was the flood of
+exclamations that all but swept away that ten-year-old robber,
+murderer, ravisher of women and incendiary.
+
+"I am going to read you something from his hand," said the teacher,
+"and then if anybody still doubts the boy's viciousness----"
+
+All tacitly promised to have no doubts.
+
+The work that the teacher read was indeed of such a nature as to leave
+small room for doubts; and I, who have chosen Walter for my hero,
+anticipate difficulty in convincing the reader that he was not so
+bad as he seemed--after his
+
+
+    "Robber Song."
+
+    "On the steed,
+    Off I speed,
+    With helmet on head
+    And a sword in my hand and the enemy dead;
+    Quick, away!"
+
+
+"Christian souls," cried the whole party, "is he mad?"
+
+
+    "Rather late,
+    Near the gate
+    A push and a blow,
+    Vanquished dragoon, Margrave laid low----"
+
+
+"Heaven save us, what has he against the Margrave," wailed the mother.
+
+
+    "For the spoil!"
+
+
+"Don't you see, it's for booty," said Juffrouw Laps. "I told you so:
+He began with the Bible, he'll end with----"
+
+
+    "And the prize--
+    Pretty eyes----"
+
+
+"Did you ever hear the like--he has scarcely shed his milk teeth!"
+
+
+    "And the prize--
+    Pretty eyes--
+    She was bought with steel----"
+
+
+"With ste-e-l!"
+
+
+    "And the prize--
+    Pretty eyes--
+    She was bought with steel;
+    I bore her away to the cave just to feel
+    How it seemed."
+
+
+"Heavenly grace, what is he going to do in the cave?"
+
+
+    "In my arm,
+    Free from harm
+    Lay the maid as we sped;
+    Her cries, sweet complaints, and the tears----"
+
+
+"Oh, blessed peace, and the poor thing crying!"
+
+
+    "Her cries, sweet complaints, and the tears she shed--
+    O, delight!"
+
+
+"And he calls that delight! I'm getting right cold."
+
+
+    "Then again,
+    O'er the plain----"
+
+
+"Holy Father, there he goes again!"
+
+
+    "Then again,
+    O'er the plain.
+    Right and left, nothing spurned,
+    Here a villa destroyed or a cloister burned
+    For fun."
+
+
+"The Devil is in that boy. For fun!"
+
+
+    "Farther yet,
+    I forget--
+    But the deeds they were dire,
+    And the road was marked with blood and fire
+    And revenge!"
+
+
+"Mercy on us! What had they done to him!"
+
+
+    "Revenge's sweet,
+    And is meet
+    For the King of the World----"
+
+
+"Is he crazy? I'll make him a king!"
+
+
+    "Revenge's sweet
+    And is meet
+    For the King of the World,
+    Who alone is supreme, with a banner unfurled
+    Forever!"
+
+
+"What sort of a thing is he talking about?"
+
+
+    "All! Hurrah!
+    But, I say----"
+
+
+Everybody shuddered.
+
+
+    "All! Hurrah!
+    But, I say
+    No pardon shall be lavished,
+    The men shall be hanged and the women----"
+
+
+"Trudie, Trudie, the camphor bottle! You see--I----"
+
+
+    "The men shall be hanged and the women ravished----"
+
+
+"The camphor bottle! Trudie, Trudie!"
+
+
+    "For pleasure!"
+
+
+"For pleasure," repeated the teacher in a grave-yard voice, "for
+pleasure!"
+
+"He--does--it--for--pleasure!"
+
+The company was stupefied. Even Stoffel's pipe had gone out.
+
+But Walter's was not a nature to be easily disturbed. After his mother
+had beaten him till she came to her senses again, he went to bed
+in the little back room, far from dissatisfied with the day's work,
+and was soon dreaming of Fancy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+On the next day things had largely resumed their wonted course. That
+someone may not charge me with carelessness, or indifference towards
+the persons with whom we spent a pleasant evening, I will remark
+in passing that Juffrouw Mabbel was again busy with her baking and
+"clairvoyange," and that Mrs. Stotter had resumed her activities with
+the stork. Those unfortunate creatures who were committed to her care
+she condemned to lie motionless for two or three months--perhaps to
+give the newly born an idea of their new career, and, at the same time,
+to punish them for the shameful uproar they had caused by their birth.
+
+As for Master Pennewip, he was busy, as usual, educating future
+grandparents of the past. His wig had not yet recovered from the
+excitement of the night before and was longing for Sunday.
+
+Klaasje van der Gracht had been awarded the prize with an impressive,
+"Keep on that way, my boy"; and he kept on. I still see poems in
+the papers whose clearness, conciseness and sublimity betray his
+master hand. I have heard that he died of smallpox--he had not been
+vaccinated; it will be remembered--but I consider it my duty to
+protect him from any such slander. A genius does not die; otherwise
+it wouldn't be worth while to be born a genius. Still, if Klaas had
+died like other people, his spirit would have lived in those coming
+after him. And that is a beautiful immortality.
+
+The family de Wilde, too, has not died out, and will not die. I am
+certain of it.
+
+Juffrouw Krummel asked her husband if she was really a "sucking
+animal." Being from the bourse, and having much worldly wisdom, he
+replied after reflection that of such things he didn't believe more
+than half he heard. "In this case the last half," he added--but softly.
+
+Juffrouw Zipperman had caught a cold; but was still able to boast
+about her son-in-law. She was a "respectable woman." Only she couldn't
+endure for Juffrouw Laps to talk so much about "virtue," and the
+"respectability" of her father, who was "in the grain business." Old
+Man Laps, she said, was not in, but under the grain business. He had
+carried sacks of grain, but that was quite different from selling
+grain. For the man who sells is much bigger than the man who
+carries. Juffrouw, therefore, had been making misleading statements.
+
+Trudie and her sisters had decked themselves out as well as possible
+and were sitting at the window. When young people passed by they
+looked as if they had never in their lives straightened out anybody.
+
+The Juffrouw in the rear below told the grocer that she was going
+to move out; for it was just scandalous, simply scandalous the way
+the Pieterses carried on in their back room; that she couldn't leave
+anything uncovered.
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse was busy with her household, and looked like
+a working woman. From time to time she had "divine service" with
+the children, who, if they could have had their choice, would have
+preferred to have been born among the Alfures, Dajaks, or some other
+benighted people whose religion is less strenuous.
+
+I am glad to be able to say that Juffrouw Laps had passed a good
+night. I should like to tell more about her, but I don't care to
+exhaust myself.
+
+Stoffel had returned to school, and was trying to inspire the boys with
+contempt for riches. He was using on them a poem that had probably
+been written in a garret by some poor devil or other whose wealth
+gave him little cause for complaint. The boys were inattentive,
+and seemed not to grasp the peculiar pleasure in having no money to
+buy marbles. Stoffel attributed their hard-heartedness to Walter's
+crazy ideas: They had heard of his attack on the Margrave and of that
+remarkable visit to the cave.
+
+And Walter?
+
+He still lived in expectation of the punishment he deserved so
+richly. For his mother had given him to understand repeatedly that
+the little "straightening out" of the evening before was merely for
+practice, and that the reward of his sin would be delayed till she
+could speak with the preacher about it.
+
+In the meanwhile Walter didn't know what to do. He couldn't return
+to school: Pennewip had closed for him that fountain of knowledge.
+
+Nor was he allowed to go out for a walk. "Who knows what he will do
+if I let him out of my sight?" said his mother, who was presumably
+afraid that he might make a fresh attack on the cloisters. As a matter
+of fact, she denied him this privilege merely because Walter asked it.
+
+She expressed the opinion that it was best not to let bad children
+have their own way.
+
+If Walter had been right wise, he would have pretended to be thoroughly
+in love with that dark back room; then, for his moral improvement,
+he would have been chased down the steps, and away to his sawmills.
+
+But Walter was not smart.
+
+He was forbidden to go into the front room because the young ladies
+did not care to see him.
+
+That back room was more than dark: It was narrow, and dirty,
+and reeked with all the fumes of "III, 7, c." But Walter was used
+to all this and much more. He had always been a martyr--bandages,
+poultices, bandy legs, biblical history, rickets, poems on goodness,
+evening prayers, the judgment day, hobgoblins for wicked children,
+closed eyes before and after the slice of bread, sleeping with crooked
+knees, committing sins, fear for the torn breeches, "divine service"
+with and without sensible accompaniment!
+
+That droll robber song, whose origin we know so well, shows how easily
+his childish soul was moved by whatever seemed great to him. He was a
+pure child, and he was a good boy. He wouldn't have hurt a fly. The
+criminal character of his song was due to his desire to grasp what
+is greater than everything else and to be the leader in that world
+created by his childish fancy.
+
+Robber--good! But a first-class robber, a robber of robbers, a robber
+without mercy--for pleasure!
+
+As to the gross mistreatment of women mentioned in his song, he had
+no idea what it meant. He used the word for the sake of rhyme, and
+because from certain sentences in his book he had got the impression
+that it must afford great pleasure.
+
+If, perchance, for those fourteen stivers Grandisson--weary
+remembrance--had fallen into his hands, his Wednesday's poem would have
+been quite different. No doubt he would have sought a reconciliation
+with the butcher's Keesje, forgiving him completely all his liberties
+with "Holland nobility" and even presenting him a few slate pencils.
+
+For that is the striking characteristic of spirits such as
+Walter's. Whatever they are, they are that with all their might,
+always going further in any direction than they would seem to be
+warranted in doing by the mere external circumstances.
+
+From such characters we could hope much, if through some chance--i. e.,
+a natural cause, which we call chance, because we do not understand
+it and are ashamed to admit our ignorance--if through some chance
+they were not born among people who do not understand them, and,
+therefore, mistreat them.
+
+It is one of our peculiarities that we like to mistreat anyone
+whose soul is differently organized from ours. How does the watch
+move? asks the child, and cannot rest until he has torn apart the
+wheels he could not understand. There the watch lies in pieces, and
+the little miscreant excuses himself with the remark that he just
+wanted to see how it was made.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+Walter sat with his elbows on the table, his chin resting in his
+hands. He seemed to be deeply interested in Leentje's sewing, but
+we shall see in a moment that his thoughts were elsewhere, and, too,
+far away from III. 7, c.
+
+They had forbidden her to speak to the shameless rascal, and only
+occasionally, when Juffrouw Pieterse left the room, did she have an
+opportunity to whisper to him a few words of comfort. To be sure,
+she noticed that Walter was not so sad as we should expect one to be
+who was caught in between the thrashing of yesterday and the priest of
+to-morrow. This gentleman was to come to-morrow to settle the matter.
+
+"But, Walter, how could you speak of burning cloisters!"
+
+"Ah, I meant--sh!"
+
+"And the Count--what had he done?"
+
+"It was a Margrave--sh!"
+
+"What sort of a count is that? I'll bet he was one out of another
+house."
+
+"Yes, it was Amalia's father--but that isn't it. I have something to
+tell you, Leentje--sh!"
+
+"Amalia--who is Amalia?"
+
+"That was my bride, but--Leentje, I wanted to tell you something--sh!"
+
+"Your bride! Are you mad, Walter? Your bride?"
+
+"Yes, she was; but now no more. I was going to help her--but a duck
+came--but that isn't it, Leentje. Now I see it all--sh. I swam by--sh!"
+
+"Who, what? Swam by?"
+
+"By Amalia. She sat on the rushes--now I understand it all--I am--sh!"
+
+"I don't understand a word, Walter. But the women--why did you
+want to----"
+
+Poor innocent Leentje.
+
+"The women were in the book--but listen, I am--sh!"
+
+"And the cloisters?"
+
+"That has nothing to do with it--I know everything now. Listen Leentje,
+I am--sh!"
+
+"For Heaven sake, Walter, what's the matter with you? You look as if
+you were mad."
+
+Walter had a vision. He stretched himself up, cast a proud glance
+at the beams in the ceiling, placed his right hand over his heart,
+extended his left, as if he were draping a Spanish mantle about
+him--remember that he had never been in a theatre--and said:
+
+"Leentje, I am a prince."
+
+At that moment his mother came in, boxed his ears and sent him out
+of the room.
+
+
+
+Walter's principality was in the moon--no, much farther away.
+
+In the following the reader shall learn how he had attained to this
+new dignity.
+
+Long before the beginning of this story--yes, a long time before
+this--there was a queen of spirits, just like in "Hans Heiling." Her
+name was A----o.
+
+She did not live in a cave, but held her court far up in the clouds;
+and this was airier and more suitable for a queen.
+
+She wore a necklace of stars, and a sun was set in her signet-ring.
+
+Whenever she went forth, the clouds flew about like dust, and with
+a motion of her hand she drove away the firmaments.
+
+Her children played with planets as with marbles, and she complained
+that it was so difficult for her to find them again when they had
+rolled away under the furniture.
+
+The little son of the queen, Prince Upsilon, was peevish over this
+and was continually calling for more playthings.
+
+The queen then gave him a sack of siriuses; but in a short time these,
+too, were all lost. It was Upsilon's own fault: He ought to have paid
+more attention to his playthings.
+
+They tried to satisfy him as best they could, but no matter what they
+gave him, he always wanted something else, something larger. This
+was a defect in the character of the little prince.
+
+The mother, who, as queen of the spirits, was a very intelligent woman,
+thought it would be a good idea for the little prince to accustom
+himself to privations.
+
+She issued an order, therefore, that for a certain time Upsilon was
+to have no playthings.
+
+The order was carried out. Everything was taken away from him,
+even the comet that he and his little sister Omicron happened to be
+playing with.
+
+Prince Upsilon was somewhat stubborn. He so far forgot himself one
+day as to speak disrespectfully to his mother.
+
+Even Princess Omicron was contaminated by his example--nothing is
+worse than a bad example--and violently threw her pallet against the
+universe. That was not becoming in a girl.
+
+Now, in the kingdom of spirits, there was a law to the effect, that
+anyone showing disrespect toward the queen, or throwing anything
+against the universe, should be deprived of all titles and dignities
+for a certain length of time.
+
+Prince Upsilon became a grain of sand.
+
+After he had behaved himself well in this capacity for a few centuries
+he received the news that he had been promoted to be a moss plant.
+
+Then one morning he woke up and found himself a coral zoˆphyte.
+
+That occurred about the time that man began to cook his food.
+
+He was industrious, building up islands and continents on the earth. In
+recognition of his zeal he was turned into a crab.
+
+In this capacity, too, there could be no complaint against him,
+and he was soon transferred to the class of sea-serpents.
+
+He played some innocent pranks on sailors, but he never harmed
+anyone. Soon he received four feet and the rank of a mastodon, with
+the privilege of roaming over the land.
+
+With the self-control of a philosopher he entered upon his new life,
+busying himself with geological investigations.
+
+A few centuries later--remember that in the kingdom of spirits all time
+taken together is only as a short quarter of an hour--or to speak more
+correctly, that all time is nothing. For time was made merely for man,
+for his amusement, and given to him just as we give picture books to
+children. For spirits, present, past and future are all the same. They
+comprehend yesterday, to-day and to-morrow at a glance, just as one
+reads a word without spelling it out. What was and is going to be, is.
+
+The Egyptians and Phoenicians knew that very well, but Christians
+have forgotten it.
+
+Fancy knew that Walter could not read, so she related Upsilon's story
+to him, just as I am doing for the reader.
+
+Some centuries later he had become an elephant; then a moment later,
+i. e., about ten years before the opening of my story--I mean years
+as we mortals reckon them--he was elevated to the class of man.
+
+I don't know what sins he may have committed as an elephant.
+
+Anyway, Fancy had said, that in order to return to his station as a
+spirit-prince in a short time and escape any further degradation it
+was necessary for him to be diligent and well behaved in his present
+state, and not write any robber songs, or slip out things and sell
+them--even if it was only a Bible.
+
+And, too, he must become reconciled to seeing Juffrouw Pieterse
+without a train on her dress. Fancy said it couldn't be helped.
+
+This "Fancy" must have been some lady at his mother's court, who
+visited him in his exile to comfort and encourage him, so that
+he wouldn't think they were punishing him because they were angry
+with him.
+
+She promised to visit him from time to time. "But," asked Walter,
+"how is my little sister getting along?"
+
+"She's being punished, too. You know the law. She is patient with
+it all and promises to improve. At first she was a fire-ball; but
+she behaved so nicely that she was soon changed to a moon-beam; and
+also in this state there was nothing against her. It seemed to be
+a pleasure for her; and it was all her mother could do to keep from
+shortening the punishment. She was soon turned into vapor, and stood
+the test well; for she filled the universe. That was about the time
+you began to eat grass. Soon she was a butterfly. But your mother
+did not consider this suitable for a girl and had her changed into
+a constellation. There she stands before us now."
+
+It often happens that we do not see a thing because it is too big.
+
+"Look," said Fancy. "There--to the right! No, further--there,
+there--the north star! That is her left eye. You can't see her right,
+because she is bending over towards Orion, the doll which she holds
+in her lap and caresses."
+
+Walter saw it plainly enough and cried: "Omicron, Omicron!"
+
+"No, no, prince," said the lady of the court, "that will not do. Each
+must undergo his punishment alone. It's already a great concession
+that you two are imprisoned in the same universe. Recently, when your
+little brothers flooded the milky way with sin, they were separated
+completely."
+
+Walter was sad. How gladly would he have kissed his little
+sister!--that group of stars nursing the doll.
+
+"Ah, Fancy, let me be with Omicron."
+
+Fancy said neither yes nor no.
+
+She looked as if she were reflecting on the possibility of
+accomplishing the almost impossible.
+
+Walter, taking courage from her hesitation, repeated his request.
+
+"Ah, let me live with my little sister again, even if I have to eat
+grass or build continents--I will eat and build with pleasure, if I
+may only be with Omicron."
+
+Probably Fancy was afraid to promise something beyond her power;
+and she was sorry not to be able to give her promise.
+
+"I will ask," she whispered, "and now----"
+
+Walter rubbed his eyes. There was the bridge and the ditch. He heard
+the ducks cackling from the distance. He saw his mills again. Yes, yes,
+there they were. But their name was no longer--what was their name?
+
+The mills were called "Morning Hour" and "Eagle," and they called
+out just like other sawmills: "Karre, karre, kra, kra----"
+
+Thereupon Walter went home. We have already seen what awaited him
+there.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+The preacher had come and gone. Sentence had been passed and the
+penalty paid. But Walter was depressed and despondent. Leentje did
+her best to put some animation into him, but in vain. Perhaps it was
+because she no longer understood her ward.
+
+Those confidential communications of Walter's were beyond her
+comprehension; and often she looked at him as if she doubted his
+sanity. From her meagre weekly allowance she saved a few doits,
+thinking to gladden Walter's heart with some ginger cakes, which he
+had always enjoyed. It was no use: Walter's soul had outgrown ginger
+cakes. This discovery caused Leentje bitter pain.
+
+"But, my dear child, be reasonable, and don't worry over such
+foolishness. This Fancy, or whatever the creature's name is, has
+mocked you; or you have dreamed it all."
+
+"No, no, no, Leentje. It's all true. I know everything she said,
+and it's all true."
+
+"But, Walter, that story about your sister--you would have known that
+long ago."
+
+"I did know it, but I had forgotten it. I knew everything that Fancy
+told me. It had only slipped out of my mind. When she spoke, then it
+all came back to me distinctly."
+
+"I will go to those mills some day," said Leentje.
+
+And she did it. After Walter's description she was able to find
+the place where that important meeting had taken place. She saw
+the timbers, the dirt, the ducks, the meadow--everything was there,
+even the ashes,--everything except Fancy and her stories.
+
+Nor could Walter find Fancy now. In vain did he go out walking with
+those respectable Halleman boys as often as he was in the way at
+home. For hours he would stand on the bridge and listen to the rattling
+of the sawmills; but they told him nothing, and Fancy would not return.
+
+"She has too much to do at my mother's court," Walter sighed, and
+went home sad and disappointed.
+
+When he looked out the window and saw the beautiful stars twinkling
+encouragement to him, he cheered up a little. His sadness was less
+bitter, but it was still there. Pain passed into home-sickness,
+a sweet longing for home, and with tears in his eyes, but no longer
+despairing, he whispered "Omicron, Omicron!"
+
+Who heard that call, or understood his grief over his exile? Who
+observed how that sigh for the "higher" and that fiery desire had
+passed into a nobler state?
+
+After long deliberations and Walter's express promise to do better,
+Master Pennewip had at last been prevailed upon to allow our young
+robber to return to school. He now had the opportunity to perfect
+himself in verse-writing, penmanship, verbs, "Holland Counts" and
+other equally important things.
+
+The teacher said that the boy at Muiderberg had been still worse,
+and he had known what to prescribe. Walter would do all right now,
+he thought; but Juffrouw Pieterse must get another pastor, for the
+present one belonged to the class of "drinkers." This she did. Walter
+was to receive religious instruction from a real preacher.
+
+I don't remember the title of the book, but the first lines were:
+
+
+    "Q. From whom did you and everything in existence have its origin?"
+
+
+Walter wanted to say, From my mother; but the book said:
+
+
+    "Ans. From God, who made everything out of nothing."
+
+    "Q. How do you know that?"
+
+    "Ans. From nature and revelation."
+
+
+Walter didn't know what it meant, but like the good-natured,
+obedient child that he was, he repeated faithfully what he had
+memorized from the book. It was annoying for him to have his
+Sundays spoiled by recitations in the Kings of Israel--days so well
+suited for rambling. He was jealous of the Jews, who were always led
+away--a misfortune that seemed delightful to him. But he worked away
+patiently, and was not the worst of those apprentices in religion. At
+the end of the year he received a book containing three hundred and
+sixty-five scriptural texts, twenty-one prayers, as many graces,
+the Lord's Prayer, the ten commandments and the articles of faith. It
+also contained directions for using it--once a day through the year,
+three times a day for a week, etc., etc.; or simply use as needed. On
+a leaf pasted in the front of the book was written:
+
+
+                           To Walter Pieterse
+                                  as a
+                                 Reward
+                                  for
+                         Excellent recitations
+                                 in the
+                              Noorderkerk
+                               and as an
+                             Encouragement
+                         for him to continue to
+                               Honor God
+                  in the manner in which he has begun.
+
+
+Under this were the names of the preacher and the officers of the
+church, ornamented with flourishes that would have put Pennewip
+to shame.
+
+The outward respectability of the Hallemans continued to increase. The
+parents of these children had hired a garden on the "Overtoom." That
+was so "far out," they said; and then they "couldn't stay in the
+city forever." Besides, the expense was "not so much"; for there was
+one gardener for everybody; and then, there were plenty of berries
+growing there, and that was always very nice. There would be grass
+enough for bleaching the linen--an important item, for just lately,
+said the mother of the Hallemans, there had been iron-rust in Betty's
+dress. For that reason it was the very thing to rent the garden;
+and if people said anything about it, it would only be because they
+were jealous. And, too, there was a barrel there for rainwater; and
+Mrs. Karels had said it leaked, but it was not true; for everyone
+must know what he's doing; but when you do anything, everybody
+is talking about it. If one paid any attention to it, one would
+never get anything done--and it would be such a recreation for the
+children. Juffrouw Karels ought to attend to her own business--and
+when Gustave's birthday came, he might invite some "young gentlemen."
+
+Gustave's birthday came. "Young gentlemen" were to be invited,
+and--Walter was among that select number.
+
+It would lead me too far from the subject to enter upon an
+investigation of the motives that prompted Gustave and Franz to invite
+their former partner in the peppermint business. The list was made out
+and approved by their mother; and as Juffrouw Pieterse felt flattered,
+there was no objection from her side. Walter must promise, of course,
+to behave properly and be "respectable," not to soil his clothes, not
+to wrestle and tear his clothes, and many other things of a similar
+nature. Juffrouw Pieterse added that it was a great favor on her part
+to let him go, for such visits made a lot of work for her.
+
+Yes, Walter was to make a visit! Eat, drink and enjoy himself under
+a strange roof. It was a great event in his life, and already he
+was becoming less jealous of the Jews, who went away so often, and
+finally never came back home at all.
+
+It was midday now--that glorious midday. With indescribable dignity,
+for a boy, Walter stepped through the gate-way. "A little to right--to
+the left, to the left again, then over a bridge, and then to the
+right straight ahead. You can't miss it," Gustave had said. The name
+of the garden was "City Rest," so all Walter had to do was to "ask,"
+and he would "find it."
+
+And so it was.
+
+Anyone making a call or visit for the first time always arrives too
+early. So it was with Walter, who reached City Rest before any of the
+other guests. But the boys received him cordially and presented him
+to their mother, who said that Walter had a pretty face, if it were
+only not so pale.
+
+The other playmates came then, and running and throwing began, in
+the customary boyish style. This was interrupted with waffles and
+lemonade, which they "must drink quite slowly," because they were
+"wet with perspiration."
+
+When the proud mother of the Hallemans was speaking of berries and
+the grossly slandered rainwater barrel, she might have mentioned
+the advantages of the leafy bower, where Betty was now sitting with
+a gentleman.
+
+"Who is that?" asked Walter of little Emma, who was playing with
+the boys.
+
+"That? That's Betty's sweetheart."
+
+From that touching story of slender Cecilia we know that Walter already
+had his first love affair behind him; but still Emma's statement was
+to him something new. Up to that time he had thought that a sweetheart
+was a girl to whom one gives slatepencils and bonbons. But she seemed
+to be above such things. Walter saw immediately that he had not taken
+the right course with Cecilia; and all at once a desire came over
+him to know how a grown man treats a girl who is through school.
+
+"Her sweetheart?"
+
+"Oh yes--engagÈ!"
+
+That word was too modern for Walter. If the reader is sharp he can
+calculate in what year that girl married the barber's apprentice. All
+that is necessary is to determine when that stupid engagÈ came into
+use in this sense in "III. 7, a."
+
+"What did you say?" asked Walter.
+
+"EngagÈ--they go together."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"Oh, they're going to get married. Don't you know?"
+
+Walter was ashamed not to know such a simple thing; and, as is often
+the case, he was ashamed of being ashamed.
+
+"Certainly, of course I know. I hadn't understood right
+well. Emma--will you marry me?"
+
+For the moment Emma was unable to accommodate him, as she was engagÈ
+with her mother; but as soon as she was free she would consider
+the matter, and Walter would probably be favored. She looked at him
+sweetly--and then the game called her to another part of the yard.
+
+Love is the instinct for unity--and the instinct for multiplicity. As
+everywhere, nature is simple here in principle, but manifold in
+application. The love of a thief means: Come, we will go steal
+together. The servant of the Word unites with his loved one in prayer
+and psalm, etc., every animal after his kind.
+
+Or is this instinct to share, to be together, to be united at the
+same the instinct for the good?
+
+In Walter's case it was, even though he himself did not know it. Had
+he not, in the name of Cecilia, liberated a bird that fluttered about
+its narrow cage in distress? Of course Cecilia had laughed and asked
+Walter if he was crazy. She did not know that there was any connection
+between his sympathy for the poor little bird and the beating of his
+heart when he scratched her name on the frozen window-pane in the
+back room. Perhaps she would have understood if she had loved Walter;
+but that was impossible, because he still wore his jacket stuffed in
+his trousers.
+
+At all events, it was not possible for him to think of anything bad
+when he called "Omicron." He had now forgotten Cecilia, and would
+have been greatly surprised if she had appeared in answer to his
+call. Little Emma would have come nearer meeting his requirements.
+
+Walter felt that he must know just how the young man was proceeding
+with Betty in the bower. He soon found an excuse to separate himself
+from his companions; and then he heard all sorts of things that did
+not make him much wiser.
+
+"Yes, I said so too. In May----"
+
+"Certainly, on account of the top story----"
+
+"It's annoying! And what does your mother say?"
+
+"Hm--she says we must wait another year, that it isn't respectable
+to get married in such a hurry--it's just as if----"
+
+"Four years----"
+
+"Yes, four years. Louw and Anna have been engaged for seven."
+
+Walter was proud that he knew exactly what it all meant. To rent
+an upper story together, preferably in May!--that was the way he
+understood it.
+
+"And do you get that press for the linen?"
+
+"No, mother wants to keep it. But if we will only wait a year she
+will give us another one--a small one."
+
+"The big one would have been nicer."
+
+"I think so too, but she says young people don't need a big press. But
+when my sister was married she got a big one."
+
+"Tell them you want a big one too."
+
+"It's no use."
+
+"Try it. I won't marry without that big one."
+
+"I will make them----"
+
+This is a fair sample of what Walter overheard. He was dissatisfied
+and slipped away and hid himself, lost in thought. He didn't even know
+himself what was the matter with him; but when Emma came and called
+him he looked as if he had been thinking of anything else but presses
+and vacant flats, for in a tone at once joyous and fearful he cried:
+
+"Could it be she--my little sister?"
+
+It was evening now, and the children were to continue their games
+indoors. As the little party was tired, one of the grown-ups was
+going to tell a story.
+
+Just what "grown-up" had been requisitioned to narrate the story of
+Paradise and Peri, I don't know. Anyway the story hardly harmonized
+with Betty's engagement and that love-obstructing clothes-press. But
+just as Fortune is said to smile on everyone once in a lifetime, so,
+in the midst of the flatness and insipidity of everyday life, it seems
+that something always happens which gives that one who lays hold of it
+opportunity to lift himself above the ordinary and commonplace. To the
+drowning man a voice calls: "Stretch out thy arms, thou canst swim."
+
+"After Peri had begged long, but in vain, at the gates of paradise to
+be admitted to the land of the blessed, she brought at last, as the
+most beautiful thing in the world, the sigh of a repentant sinner;
+and she found favor with the keeper of the gate on account of the
+sacredness of the gift she had brought----"
+
+"Let's play forfeits now!" cried Gustave.
+
+"Forfeits! Forfeits!" everybody called out after him.
+
+And they played forfeits. Pawns were redeemed; and of course there
+was some kissing done. Riddles were given that nobody could guess;
+and who ever knew must not tell--a usual condition in this game.
+
+"Heavy, heavy hangs over your head; what shall the owner do to
+possess it?"
+
+"Stand on one leg for five minutes."
+
+"Let him jump over a straw--or recite a poem!"
+
+"No, a fable--la cigale, or something like that."
+
+"Yes, yes!"
+
+It was Walter's pawn.
+
+"I don't know any fable," he said, embarrassed; "and I don't know
+French either."
+
+"I will help you," cried Emma. "Le pere, du pere----"
+
+"That's no fable! Go ahead, Walter!"
+
+For some of the party it was a joy that Walter knew no Fable and no
+French. If it were only known how often one can do a kindness by being
+stupid, perhaps many, out of love for humanity, would affect stupidity.
+
+But Walter did not think of the pleasure of the others--which he
+could not have understood. He wept, and was angry at Master Pennewip,
+who had taught him no French and no fable.
+
+"Forward, Walter, forward!" insisted the holder of the pawn.
+
+"It needn't be French. Just tell a fable."
+
+"But I don't know what a fable is."
+
+"Oh, it's a story with animals."
+
+"Yes, or with trees! Le chÍne un jour dit au roseau--don't you see,
+you can have one without animals."
+
+"Yes, yes, a fable is just a story--nothing else. You can have in it
+anything you want to."
+
+"But it must rhyme!"
+
+Walter was thinking about reciting his robber song, but fortunately
+he reconsidered the matter. That would have been scandalous in the
+home of the Hallemans, who were so particularly respectable.
+
+"No," cried another, who was again wiser than all the rest, "it needn't
+rhyme. The cow gives milk--Jack saw the plums hanging--Prince William
+the First was a great thinker. Don't you see, Walter, it's as easy
+as rolling off of a log. Go ahead and tell something, or else you
+won't get your pawn."
+
+Walter began.
+
+"A little boy died once who was not allowed to go to heaven----"
+
+"Oho! That's the story of Peri. Tell something else."
+
+"I was going to change it," said Walter, embarrassed. "And so the
+little boy couldn't enter the heavenly gates, because he didn't know
+French, and because he had sometimes been bad, and because he hadn't
+learned his lessons, and also because he--because he"----I believe
+Walter had something on the end of his tongue about his mother's
+box of savings, but he swallowed it, that he might not offend the
+Hallemans by any allusion to the peppermint business--"because he
+once laughed during prayers. For it is certain, boys, that if you
+laugh during prayers you'll never get to heaven."
+
+"So--o-oo?" asked several, conscious of their guilt.
+
+"Yes, they can't go to heaven. Now the boy had had a sister, who died
+one year before him. He had loved her a lot, and when he died he began
+to hunt for his sister right away. 'Who is your sister?' he was asked."
+
+"Who asked him that?"
+
+"Be still! Don't interrupt him. Let Walter tell his story!"
+
+"I don't know who asked that. The boy said that his little sister
+had on a blue dress and had dimples in her cheeks, and----"
+
+"Just like Emma!"
+
+"Yes, exactly like Emma. They told him that there was a little girl
+in heaven that looked just like that. She had come the year before,
+and had asked them to let her brother in, who would certainly inquire
+after her. But the boy could not go in. I have already said why."
+
+"Had the little girl always learned her lessons?"
+
+"Of course! Don't you see she had? Let Walter go on with his story!"
+
+"It was sad that he could not get to see his sister any more. He felt
+that it hadn't really been worth the trouble to die. 'Oh, just let
+me in!' he begged the gentleman at the door----"
+
+"At the gate!" corrected several simultaneously, who, though untouched
+by the sublimity of Walter's conception of death, were offended by the
+commonplaceness of the word door. But such things happen frequently.
+
+"All right!" said Walter. He was ashamed that he had offended against
+propriety. "The gentleman at the gate said, 'No!' and then the poor
+boy returned to the earth."
+
+"That won't do," cried the philosophical contingency, "whoever is
+dead remains dead."
+
+"Don't interrupt him. Of course it's only a story!"
+
+Walter continued: "He returned to the earth and learned French. Then
+he appeared at the gate again and said, 'Oui, Monsieur!' but it did
+no good; he was not admitted."
+
+"I should think not; he ought to have said: 'j'aime, tu aimes.'"
+
+"I don't know anything about that," Walter replied.
+
+"Then he went to the earth again and learned his lessons till he
+could say them backwards. He did this for the keeper of the gate;
+but all this did no good; he was not allowed to go in."
+
+"Of course not," cried one of the wise ones, "to get to heaven you
+must be confirmed. Had he been confirmed?"
+
+"No. That's the reason it was so difficult. Then he tried something
+else. He said that he was engaged to his sister."
+
+"Just like Betty," cried Emma.
+
+"Yes, like Betty--and that he loved her and wanted to marry her. But
+it was all of no use; they wouldn't let him into heaven.
+
+"Finally he didn't dare go to the gate any more, for fear the keeper
+would get angry at him."
+
+"And then? What happened?"
+
+"I don't know," Walter stuttered. "I don't know what he ought to do
+to get to heaven."
+
+Walter knew the rest of the story very well, but he couldn't put it
+into words. This was shown in a peculiar manner an hour later.
+
+On the way home the party was almost run over by a wagon just as
+they were crossing a bridge. In the commotion Emma slipped under the
+railing and fell into the stream. Somebody screamed, and Walter sprang
+after her.
+
+If he had died at that moment the keeper of the gate would hardly
+have turned him away because he didn't know French and had not been
+confirmed.
+
+When he was brought home, wet and dirty, Juffrouw Pieterse said that
+one ought not to tempt the Master, and that's what one did when one
+jumped into the water without being able to swim.
+
+But I find that the man who can't swim is the very one to expect
+something of the Master; for the man who can swim has some prospect
+of helping himself.
+
+And Juffrouw Pieterse complained that there was "always something
+the matter with that boy." There was something the matter with him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse must have inherited something, for all at once the
+Pieterses moved to a more respectable neighborhood, and the daughters
+no longer knew any of the girls that they used to sew with. Such things
+do happen in cases of inheritance, when one moves to a more select
+quarter. Besides, there were other signs. They exerted themselves in
+trying to get Leentje to speak "better Dutch." Stoffel was zealous
+in teaching her, but Juffrouw Pieterse spoiled everything by her
+bad example.
+
+Walter was now wearing a new jacket, with a small collar, such as
+cabmen wore later. For him a jacket to stuff in the trousers was a
+thing of the past. It "looked so babyish," the young ladies said,
+and was "out of the question now when the boy can write poetry."
+
+That Walter could write poetry was boasted of to everybody that
+would listen. Under the circumstances they really had no right to
+reap any fame from Walter's robber song; but this only showed what an
+important rÙle vanity plays in the world. Of course he himself never
+heard anything of this; it was mentioned only when he was not present.
+
+The image of Cecilia had disappeared from Walter's heart; and little
+Emma was forgotten. Omicron must show her face in the stars from time
+to time to remind the child of his love. And even when he looked at
+the evening sky and his soul was stirred by an inexpressible longing
+after the good, it was not so much that he was thinking of Omicron
+as that he was moved by vague sweet memories. In the twelve years of
+his life there was a mythical prehistoric period which was difficult
+to separate from the historical period.
+
+He didn't know that he could write verses. He accepted it as a matter
+of course that his robber song was very poor, and looked upon Klaasje
+van der Gracht with awe. It was from Juffrouw Laps he learned that
+he could write poetry; and it was an illumination for him.
+
+Juffrouw Laps had an uncle whose birthday was coming the next week. She
+had paid the Pieterses a swell visit to ask if Walter wouldn't write
+her a poem for the occasion. She would see that he got some bonbons.
+
+"But Juffrouw Pieterse, you must tell him that it must be religious
+and that my uncle is a widower. He must bring that in. I should like
+for it to be in the melody of the 103d psalm, for my uncle has that
+psalm in his lyre."
+
+The reader will note that she did not mean the lyre of Apollo. What
+she spoke of was a thing that turned, and made a screechy noise.
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse was going to speak with Walter about it when he came
+from school, but first she had to consider the matter with Stoffel,
+to decide whether it should be a request or a command, so that Walter
+would have no reason to be "stuck-up." For that she could not endure
+in a child.
+
+"Walter, did you know your lesson?"
+
+"No, mother; I had to learn thirteen mountains in Asia, and I knew
+only nine."
+
+"Now, look here, that won't do. I'm paying tuition for nothing. Do you
+think money grows on my back? I don't know what's to become of you."
+
+"I don't know, either."
+
+After all, though, Walter was flattered by the commission to write
+a poem. Stoffel's and Juffrouw Pieterse's efforts to conceal their
+real opinion of his poetical talents had been useless. It was a
+pleasant surprise for the boy to learn that he was looked up to. He
+had always heard that he was worse than worthless, and that he would
+never amount to anything. It interested him now to hear the assurance
+of his mother and Stoffel that the commission was only a punishment for
+not knowing the mountains in Asia. In a great rush Stoffel taught him
+the difference between "masculine" and "feminine" verses, explaining
+that these must alternate, that all must be of the same length, and
+that if at any time the boy was in doubt he would clear the matter up,
+etc., etc.
+
+Walter was delighted. He went to the back room, got a slate pencil
+and began to write. It could hardly be called a success. "A widower
+of God"--"O God, a widower!" That was as far as he got.
+
+He gnawed on the pencil till he had pulverized it and worn out his
+teeth, but it wouldn't go. He was continually being interrupted
+by Stoffel's masculine and feminine verses. He had been too proud,
+and now he was receiving his punishment. He began to believe that
+his mother was right when she said nothing would ever come of him.
+
+Nor could Leentje help him. So he determined to make another attempt
+to-morrow. Perhaps he could do better then. Leentje agreed with him.
+
+"All right," said Juffrouw Pieterse. "But don't disgrace us
+all. Remember, I told Juffrouw Laps you could do it; and the man's
+birthday comes Thursday week. So you haven't any too much time."
+
+Walter went to Ash Gate, found his bridge and began to weep bitterly.
+
+"See what's the matter with that boy," he heard a woman saying to a
+girl fourteen or fifteen years old. "Perhaps he has lost something."
+
+"Have you lost anything?"
+
+Walter looked up, and was surprised; for he seemed to have seen that
+face before. It reminded him of Fancy.
+
+"Now, everything will be all right There you are; and I have been
+hunting for you."
+
+"For me?"
+
+"Yes, yes, but I just didn't know it. But I know it now. Tell me
+right quick how to write the poem!"
+
+The girl, who was helping her mother place the linen on the grass for
+bleaching, looked at Walter in astonishment. She hurried back to her
+mother to say that she didn't know what was the matter with the boy,
+but that there was certainly something wrong. "He looks as if he were
+scared half to death," she decided.
+
+Then she ran and fetched water from the house near by and made Walter
+drink. He saw that he had made a mistake; but there was something in
+the manner of the girl that drew him to her irresistibly, even though
+her name was only Femke. So the mother addressed her. And this name
+reminded him of Fancy, which was something.
+
+Femke pointed to an inverted basket and told him to tell the cause of
+his trouble; and Walter did it as well as he could, while the mother
+was busy with the linen.
+
+"Maybe I can help you," the mother said. "I have a nephew who is
+a widower."
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw--but the poem? And there must be something about God
+in it."
+
+"Certainly. It's a long story. His wife was a niece of my
+husband's--you see we are Catholics, and she acted according to
+her religion--put a stone on those cloths, Femke, or they'll blow
+away--yes, bleaching is a job. You have no idea what a bother
+it is--yes, she acted according to her religion; and that was
+right. People that don't do that are not much. But he--draw that
+shirt back a little, Femke. The sleeve is hanging in the ditch--but
+he didn't believe in it, and said it was all nonsense. But when she
+died, and he saw all that was done for her--it was Father Jansen who
+was there. Of course you know him--he always walks with a black cane,
+but he never lets it touch the ground----"
+
+The women looked at Walter questioningly. The poor boy sat on the
+basket, his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands. He had listened
+with open mouth, wondering how he was going to apply it all to his
+poem. Of Father Jansen and that cane which despised the ground he
+had never heard. This he had to confess.
+
+"Yes, it was Father Jansen who was there, and when my husband's nephew
+saw all that--don't spill any, Femke, or the mud will splatter so
+bad--yes, when he saw that a human being doesn't die like an animal,
+then he was more respectful, and after that he observed Easter like
+other people. And last year when he broke his leg--he's a dyer,
+you know--he drew thirteen stivers for nine weeks. And so I wanted
+to tell you that there's a widower in our family. And now you must
+get up, for I need the basket."
+
+Walter arose quickly, as if he feared he might seem to be trespassing;
+and the woman went away, after having warned Femke to watch the linen
+and call her if any bad boys should come along.
+
+"Are you better now?" Femke asked kindly.
+
+"Oh yes; but I don't see how I'm to use all that in my poem. You
+must remember that it has to rhyme, and the verses must be of the
+same length, and that they must be masculine and feminine; for my
+brother said so, and he's a school-teacher."
+
+Femke reflected, then all at once she cried, "Do you know Latin?" As
+if Latin would help Walter.
+
+"No," disconsolately.
+
+"Well, it really makes no difference. It's in Dutch, too. Just watch
+the linen a minute."
+
+Walter promised, and Femke ran to the house.
+
+Then some boys came along throwing rocks. Walter, conscious of his
+responsibility, called to them to desist--or words to that effect. This
+only made them worse. They came closer, and, to worry Walter, began to
+walk over the linen. For him it was as if they were mistreating Femke,
+and he charged on the miscreants. But it was two against one, and a
+weaker one at that; so he would have soon been defeated if his lady had
+not returned quickly. She rescued him and drove off his assailants; and
+when she saw that his lip was bleeding she gave him a kiss. The boy's
+heart trembled; all at once his soul was lifted to an unfamiliar level;
+and for the first time in weeks he felt again that princely nature
+that had given Leentje such a fright. His eyes shone, and the boy,
+who but a moment ago did not know how he was to write some rhymes,
+was filled with the feelings and emotions that make poets of men.
+
+"O Fancy, Fancy, to die for thee--to die with such a kiss on the lips!"
+
+It hurt him to think that the boys were gone. If there had been ten
+of them he would have had courage for the unequal fight.
+
+And Femke, who had never heard of poetical overflows, understood him
+immediately, for she was a pure, innocent girl. She felt Walter's
+chivalry, and knew that she was the lady to reward it.
+
+"You are a dear sweet boy," she said, taking his head between her
+hands and kissing him again, and again--as if she had done something
+of this kind before. But such was not the case.
+
+"And now you must read the verses in the little book. Maybe it will
+help you to write for your aunt----"
+
+"She isn't my aunt," Walter said, "but of course I will look through
+the book."
+
+He laid it on the railing of the bridge and began to read. Femke,
+who was taller than he, had put one arm around his neck, while with
+the other hand she was pointing out what he should read.
+
+"Don't you see?" she said, "the lines are the same length."
+
+"Yes, but they don't rhyme." And Walter read:
+
+
+    Mother most pure,
+    Mother undefiled,
+    Virgin most powerful,
+    Virgin most merciful,
+    Virgin most faithful,
+    Spiritual vessel,
+    Vessel of honor,
+    Vessel of singular devotion,
+    Mystical rose,
+    Tower of David,
+    Tower of Ivory,
+    Gate of Heaven----
+
+
+"But, Femke, how am I to use that for my poem? I don't understand
+any of it."
+
+Femke didn't understand much of it either. She had been reading the
+book every day for the past four or five years, and she had always been
+satisfied with her comprehension of it. But now she saw that she was
+as ignorant about it as Walter. She was ashamed and closed the book.
+
+"But don't you know what Faith is?" she asked, as if this defect
+might account for the general ignorance of both.
+
+"Not that way," Walter replied. "I learned it another way."
+
+"But you believe in Jesus, don't you?"
+
+"Oh, yes. That's God's son. But I didn't learn anything about vessels
+and towers. Do they belong to faith?"
+
+"Why, certainly! But you know the holy virgin, Maria!"
+
+"So? Maria? No, I don't."
+
+"And Purgatory?"
+
+"I don't know anything about it."
+
+"And confession?"
+
+"No."
+
+"What do you do then?"
+
+"How do you mean, Femke?"
+
+"I mean to be saved."
+
+"I don't know," Walter replied. "You mean, to get to heaven?"
+
+"Why, certainly. That's the point. And you can't do that without the
+holy virgin and such a book. Shall I teach you the creed, Walter? Then
+we'll be together in heaven."
+
+That pleased Walter, and Femke and Walter began:
+
+"God created the world----"
+
+"What did he do before that, Femke?"
+
+"I don't know. But the people were made wicked by a snake; then the
+Pope pronounced a curse upon the snake, for the Pope lives in Rome,
+you know. And then Jesus was crucified to make the people good
+again. That was a long time ago."
+
+"Yes, I know," Walter said, "Jesus changed the number of the year. At
+his birth he began at nought."
+
+Femke didn't know again. In this way each supplemented the knowledge
+of the other; and Walter was proud that he knew something about the
+creed, even if Femke did think it the wrong creed.
+
+"And so Jesus made the people good again, and if you will pray out
+of such a book you will be saved. Do you understand, Walter?"
+
+"Not quite. What is an ivory tower?"
+
+"Why, that's only a name for the virgin. It's as if you were to call
+the pastor father. Now you understand."
+
+Femke hunted for another illustration.
+
+"You have a mother; what do you call her?"
+
+"Why, I call her mother."
+
+"Correct. What do the other people call her?"
+
+"They call her Juffrouw Pieterse."
+
+"Just so. When we call the holy virgin 'ivory tower' it's just like
+calling your mother Juffrouw Pieterse. Ivory gate means that to get
+to heaven we must go through the holy virgin. That's the main thing."
+
+"But, Femke, what is a virgin?"
+
+Femke blushed.
+
+"That is anybody that has never had a child."
+
+"Me?" asked Walter in astonishment.
+
+"No, child, it must be a girl!"
+
+"Are you a virgin?"
+
+"Of course!"
+
+Femke spoke the unvarnished truth.
+
+"Of course--because I'm not married."
+
+"But Maria was married--and Jesus was her child."
+
+"Ah, that's where the holiness comes in," replied Femke. "And for that
+reason she is called the ivory gate. Do you understand now, Walter?"
+
+Walter did not understand; but he asked permission to take the book
+home with him, that he might study it. That, however, was not possible,
+as Femke needed the book every day. Walter consoled himself easily,
+for not for anything in the world would he have endangered Femke's
+salvation. Femke asked him to come again. She would be glad to tell
+him all she knew about the matter; and, if both should get tangled up,
+she would ask Father Jansen about it. And then Walter would soon be
+as wise as she was.
+
+Walter withdrew; i. e., after he had kissed Femke heartily. This
+meeting with her, the mysterious book, salvation, the fight with the
+boys--all these things would run through his mind whenever he tried
+to think of the poem. It seemed to him that there was some connection
+between them.
+
+When he got home he turned through Stoffel's books, hoping to find
+something about holy vessels, ivory towers, and immaculate virgins. But
+they were all school books, and gave information about everything
+else but salvation. Walter was crushed, but he was still searching.
+
+"Master Pennewip had a father and mother; and certainly old Pennewip,
+too, who slaughtered hogs; and the one before him, too--but who was the
+first Pennewip? And who slaughtered the hogs before old Pennewip? And
+before there were any hogs, what did butchers do? And----"
+
+I will know all of that some day, Walter thought. If he could have only
+quieted himself so well about his poem! If that were only written, he
+thought, then he would clear up the lost causes of everything. In the
+meanwhile he dreamed of Femke, of her blue eyes, her friendliness,
+her soft lips--and of her voice, when she said, "You are a dear,
+sweet boy."
+
+Could it be that she is Omicron? he thought.
+
+And thus the child dreamed, dreamed; and, just as in the development
+of humanity, in his life was working a three-fold impulse, towards
+love, knowledge, and conflict.
+
+"But Walter, don't you read any books at home about the creed?"
+
+Thus Femke questioned her little friend the next day, as he sat on
+her basket again.
+
+"Yes, but they're not pretty."
+
+"Don't you know anything by heart?"
+
+Walter repeated a stanza of a reformed church hymn. This found no
+favor with Femke; though she liked his reciting.
+
+"Don't you read anything else?"
+
+Walter reflected: he flew through Stoffel's library--works of the
+Poetical Society, Geology by Ippel, On Orthography, Regulations
+for the Fire-Watch, Story of Joseph by Hulshoff, Brave Henry, Jacob
+Among His Children, Sermons by Hellendoorn, A Catechism by the same,
+Hoorn's Song-book.
+
+He felt that all of this would not prove very imposing for
+Femke. Finally:
+
+"I do know something, but it isn't about faith and the creed. It's
+about Glorioso."
+
+Femke promised to listen, and he began to relate the story. At first
+he spoke mechanically, using all the "and then's": but soon he put
+himself into the soul of the hero and told the story better than he
+had read it in the greasy book. At every deed of Glorioso he would
+spring from the basket and act the part of that hero in a way that
+made Femke's blood run cold. Still, how magnificent she found it! And
+when at last he was through, a spark from his peculiar but sincere
+enthusiasm had fallen into her heart, which like his beat with delight
+over the beauty of what she had heard. Her cheeks glowed--really,
+if a Treckschent had started to Italy at that moment I believe she
+would have gone along, in order to take part in so much danger and
+adventure--and love. The nicest thing about the story was that it
+showed how firm such a robber is in the faith.
+
+"Don't you know another story?"
+
+"Yes," said Walter. "One more. It's in a little book--a calendar,
+I believe."
+
+And he related the story of Telasco and Kusco and the beautiful
+Aztalpa.
+
+Telasco and Kusco, sons of the King of the Sun-worshipers, were
+twins; and so both were equally near the throne. They loved each other
+devotedly; so which would give way for the other? Which of the two was
+to become Inca? Funeral pyres were built, one for each, and prayers
+were offered to the sun that one of the piles might be ignited. But the
+sun did not light either. He ordered that Aztalpa, the sister, should
+choose one. That one to whom she offered her hand should inherit the
+throne and the empire. But the princess could not decide, for she
+loved them both dearly and both equally. It was then decided that
+both should go out hunting on a certain morning, and that the one who
+killed the first doe should become king. Telasco had red arrows, Kusco
+blue. The morning came. The brothers were lying in a thicket as the
+deer approached. Both fired, and both missed. Then they swore mutually
+not to miss intentionally the next time. They kept the oath, and two
+deer fell; but Telasco had shot one of Kusco's arrows, and Kusco one
+of Telasco's. Telasco then proposed that Aztalpa should be killed,
+to avoid any discord in the empire; and in the other world both would
+enjoy the same place in her affections. All agreed to this; but when
+the fatal day came, Aztalpa fell on her knees before Telasco and begged
+that she might receive her death at the hand of Kusco. Telasco cried:
+"Aztalpa, you have chosen!" All bowed down before Kusco; and when
+they looked for Telasco he had disappeared. He was never seen again.
+
+Often Femke interrupted with questions, for there was much that was
+strange and wonderful to her; but she was charmed with the story and
+shared all of Walter's enthusiasm.
+
+"I tell you, though, Walter, if that girl had known what Telasco was
+up to she wouldn't have done it. But the story is beautiful. I wonder
+if such things really happen."
+
+"That was far from here, Femke, and a long time ago. That's just the
+way it was in the book. But now I must go home, for I haven't a stiver
+to pay the gate-keeper if I come in after eight. Oh, Femke--if I were
+only through with that poetry business."
+
+"It will turn out all right. Just think of Telasco. He had a difficult
+task, too."
+
+"No! I will think of the girl. Good-evening, Femke----"
+
+Walter received the hearty kiss that his story had earned him, and
+dreaming of Aztalpa, who was guarding the linen, he passed through
+the Ash Gate and turned towards home. The moon shone so brightly that
+he was annoyed not to have been able to remain with Femke. How much
+better, he thought, could he have told his story by moonlight! But
+he didn't have the price--a stiver.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+The moon paused on the sky, as if she were weary of her lonely
+lot. Was she grieved because ungrateful humanity had fallen asleep
+and was ignoring her?--or because of the light borrowed from her
+for thousands of years, and none returned? She poured forth her
+sorrow in heart-breaking noiseless elegies till the night-wind was
+moved to pity. Whish! he went through the trees; and the leaves
+danced. Crash! he went over the roof; and the tiles flew away, and
+chimneys bowed meekly; and over the walls and ditches the sawmills
+danced with the logs they were to saw. There a girl sat sleeping. Could
+it be Femke? The linen danced about her to the music of the wind, the
+shirts making graceful bows and extending their sleeves. Nightcaps,
+dickeys and drawers danced the minuet; stockings, skirts, collars,
+handkerchiefs waltzed thicker and thicker around the sleeping girl. Her
+curls began to flutter--a smile, a sigh, and she sprang to her feet. A
+whirlwind caught her up and----
+
+"O, heavens, Femke, Femke!" and Walter grasped at the apparition that
+was being borne away towards the moon in a cloud of stockings, socks,
+drawers, shirts and collars.
+
+"Mother! Walter's pinching me," cried Laurens, the printer's
+apprentice; and Juffrouw Pieterse groaned, that those boys couldn't
+even keep quiet at night.
+
+The "House of Pieterse" gathered at Walter's bed. There was the noble
+mother of the family enveloped in a venerable jacket that fell in broad
+folds over a black woolen skirt. There was Trudie, with her stupid blue
+eyes; and Myntje and Pietje--but what am I talking about? In the new
+home Trudie had become Gertrude, like a morganatic princess in Hessia;
+and Myntje was now Mina, but preferred to be called Mine, as that
+sounded more Frenchy. But her stupid face remained unchanged. Pietje
+was now Pietro. Stoffel had said that was a very swell name.
+
+Stoffel, too, had now appeared on the scene, to the great astonishment
+of his mother, who expected so much of him. This fine sense of
+propriety had been developed in the new home.
+
+"What's the matter with you, boy?" cried everybody at once.
+
+"Oh, mother, Femke--Femke!"
+
+"The boy is foolish." That was the unanimous verdict of the family.
+
+And they were not altogether wrong. Walter was delirious.
+
+"They are carrying her away--around and around--Daughter of the Sun,
+decide--here is Telasco--thou shalt die, Aztalpa--Femke, stay,
+stay, I will watch the clothes--I will shoot the doe--a widower
+of God--together through the ivory gate--there she is again--stay,
+Omicron!"
+
+"Ought we to call in a preacher?" asked Juffrouw Pieterse
+hesitatingly. She didn't know whether praying was needed or a
+whipping--or both.
+
+And now, perhaps for the first time in his life, Stoffel expressed a
+sensible thought: "Mother, we ought to have a doctor. Walter is sick."
+
+Walter had nervous fever. It was fortunate for him that a doctor was
+called in, and still more fortunate that it was a man who understood
+Walter's mental troubles. He exerted a most wholesome influence on
+the boy; though this came later, as at first he could only treat
+the disease.
+
+On Juffrouw Pieterse, too, he had a good influence. To her great
+astonishment, he explained to her that children ought not to be
+packed together in a bed as if they were superfluous pieces of
+furniture being thrown aside; that air, light, play, enjoyment,
+exercise are all necessary for the development of body and soul;
+that whipping does no good, and that she had better dispense with her
+"divine worship." He told her of other things she had never heard of;
+and she listened willingly, for the doctor----
+
+"Ah, dear Juffrouw Laps, you must manage to be here when he comes. He
+writes the prescriptions with a gold pen; and his coachman wears a
+brown bear-skin cape."
+
+That gold pen and the bear-skin cape! Ah, if everyone who preaches
+truth could only dress up his coachman so swell! But alas, alas--I
+know a great many people who love the truth, and they have no coachman
+at all--not to mention the bear-skin.
+
+And gold pens often get into the wrong hands.
+
+"I just wanted Juffrouw Zipperman to come sometime when the doctor's
+here. Run and tell her, Gertrude, that I said Walter was sick,
+and say that we have lunch about twelve. He came about that time
+yesterday. And Leentje, you go to the grocer's--we need salt--have
+something to say about it--it's not just to be gossiping, you know--I
+despise gossip--but I would like to know if the people have noticed
+it. And you, Pietro, remember that you are to give me a clean cap
+when he comes--for the doctor is such an elegant gentleman, and such
+a doctor! And all that he said--I drank it all in. Mina, you mustn't
+stare at him again like that; it's not proper. But I'm curious to
+know if the people at the grocer's have seen him!"
+
+I shouldn't like to be severe on her; but it seems to me that Juffrouw
+Pieterse was gradually beginning to take pleasure in Walter's illness.
+
+There is something swell in having such a carriage standing before
+one's door.
+
+Juffrouw Laps had come: "But dear Juffrouw Pieterse, what am I to do
+about my uncle? You are invited; and I have told him that there will
+be a poem."
+
+"Very bad, Juffrouw Laps. You can see though that that poor worm
+can't write the poem. What about Stoffel? Why not ask him to write it?"
+
+"It's all right with me. Just so it's a poem; otherwise I'm disgraced."
+
+Stoffel was requested to take Walter's place, but he raised objections
+at once.
+
+"You don't know what that would mean, mother. I would lose the respect
+of the boys. For anyone working with youth, respect is the main thing;
+and such a poem----"
+
+"But the boys at school need not know it."
+
+"But the man would tell somebody and then--you don't understand it. At
+the Diaconate school there was a fellow who wrote verses; and what
+has become of him? He went to India, mother, and he still owes me for
+half a bottle of ink. That's the way it goes, mother. For me to write
+such a poem? No, no, mother--for a boy like Walter it's all right;
+but when one is already a teacher!"
+
+"And Master Pennewip?" cried Juffrouw Laps.
+
+"The very man!" cried Stoffel, as if this supported his former
+argument. "A happy thought! Master Pennewip will do it."
+
+"I've read a poem by him, Stoffel."
+
+"Yes, yes. And you've read a poem by him. That's because--but how
+shall I explain that to you, Juffrouw Laps? You know that in teaching
+there are all kinds of things. Take Geography, for example. I will just
+mention one fact: Madrid is on the Manganares. Understand, mother?"
+
+"Yes, yes, Stoffel. That's just as if you were to say----"
+
+"Amsterdam on the Y. Exactly so. And then there are many, many more
+things, Juffrouw Laps. You have no idea how much there is of it. A
+grocer mixes sugar with something else. He must calculate exactly
+what he must get for a pound in order not to lose money. Think of
+it! And then you have partnership, and breakage, and the verbs--but
+I must go before those rascals break everything."
+
+Stoffel returned to school earlier than usual, without having
+diminished Juffrouw Laps's difficulties very much. That poor woman
+could not comprehend how geography and Madrid and the grocer and
+partnerships made it impossible for Stoffel to write verses. Juffrouw
+Pieterse smoothed the matter over as well as she could and sent
+Juffrouw Laps to Master Pennewip.
+
+That gentleman was alarmed when he saw the angry "sucking animal,"
+but he quieted down as soon as he heard the object of her visit.
+
+"To what class does your uncle belong, Juffrouw?"
+
+"Why, to the class--you mean the mussel-shells and eggs?"
+
+"No, no, Juffrouw, I mean on which rung of the ladder is he--how high
+up. I repeat it, on what rung--it's a figure, Juffrouw--on what rung
+of the social ladder?"
+
+"In the grain business? Is that what you mean?"
+
+"That is not sufficient, Juffrouw Laps. One may be in the grain
+business as a pastry cook, a baker, a retailer, a wholesaler, or as a
+broker; and all these vocations have their peculiar sub-divisions. Take
+Joseph in Egypt, for example. This man of God, whom some place in
+the class of patriarchs, while others claim--but let that be as it
+may. It is certain that Joseph bought corn and was on the topmost
+rung of the ladder, for we read in Genesis, chapter 41----"
+
+"Yes, indeed, he rode in Pharaoh's carriage, and he wore a white silk
+coat. My uncle is an agent, and my father was the same."
+
+"So-o-oo?  Agent!  That's something Moses doesn't mention, and I
+don't know in what class----" He spoke slowly, puzzling over his words.
+
+"Besides, my uncle is a widower."
+
+"Ah, there we have the difference! We read that Joseph wooed Asnath,
+the daughter of Potiphar; but nowhere do we read that his spouse was
+already dead when he went into the corn business. Therefore, Juffrouw
+Laps, if it is your earnest desire to have a pious poem written on
+your uncle, I advise you to go to my pupil, Klaasje van der Gracht."
+
+He explained to her where that prodigy might be found.
+
+Again I must beg pardon if my criticism of Pennewip is too severe; but
+he gave me reasons enough to harbor ugly suspicions against him. I am
+convinced that he would have written that poem for Juffrouw Laps if
+her uncle had received a white silk coat from the king, or had ever
+driven through The Hague in a royal carriage. But to sing an agent in
+verse! He would leave that to the genius of "the flying tea-kettle"
+in the Peperstraat. That was not nice of Pennewip. Was that uncle
+to blame because his brothers never threw him into a well? or sold
+him into Egypt? Or because he couldn't interpret dreams? Or because
+cleverness is not rewarded to-day with rings, white coats, carriages
+and high official position?
+
+Juffrouw Laps footed it over to the Peperstraat, where she made
+the acquaintance of the elder van der Gracht. The old gentleman
+felt flattered.
+
+He was most gracious, and assured the Juffrouw that the poem should
+be written that very evening. Klaasje could bring it over the next
+morning and repeat it to Juffrouw Laps, and if it were found worthy
+as an expression of her feelings toward her uncle, then Klaasje was
+to be invited to be present on that evening. The father assured her
+that Klaasje would wear a white stand-up collar.
+
+"Just like Joseph," said the Juffrouw. "Everything is in the Bible."
+
+When she got home she read the forty-first chapter of Genesis,
+trying to find the relation of Klaasje's apotheosis to Joseph's
+exaltation. That night she dreamed she had a mantle in her hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+It was the afternoon of the day on which Juffrouw Laps sought out
+Klaasje van der Gracht, and Walter was lying in bed, still weak but
+no longer delirious. The doctor had ordered rest and quiet. The child
+counted the flowers in the curtain, and, in his imagination tried
+to arrange them in some other order. He allowed them to jump over
+one another, or flow into one another. He saw in them faces, forms,
+armies, clouds--and all were alive and moving. It was tiresome, but
+he couldn't do anything else. If he turned his face toward the wall
+it was still worse. The hieroglyphic scratches on the wall told him
+all sorts of things that he didn't need to know and overwhelmed him
+with unnecessary impressions. He closed his eyes; but still he found
+no rest. It seemed to him as if he were being swept away to take part
+in that entertainment that the night-wind gave the moon. Everything
+was turning round and round, taking him along. He seized his head in
+both hands, as if he would stop his imagination by main strength; but
+it was useless. The curtains, the cords, the wall, the flowers, the
+dance, the whirlwind that tore Femke away--his efforts to hold her----
+
+The boy burst into tears. He knew that it was all imagination; he
+knew that he was sick; he knew that chimneys don't dance, and that
+girls are not blown to the moon; and yet----
+
+Weeping he called Femke's name softly, not loud enough to be heard
+by the others, but loud enough to relieve his own depression.
+
+"What's that?" he cried suddenly. "Does she answer? Is that
+imagination, too?"
+
+Actually, Walter heard his name called, and it was Femke's voice!
+
+"I must know whether I'm dreaming, or not," he said, and straightened
+himself up in bed. "That is a red flower, that is a black one, I am
+Walter, Laurens is a printer's apprentice--everything is all right;
+and I'm not dreaming."
+
+He leaned out of bed and listened again, his mouth and eyes as wide
+open as he could get them, as if the senses of taste and sight were
+going to reinforce that of hearing.
+
+"O, God! Femke's voice! Yes, yes, it is Femke!" He jumped out of bed,
+ran out the door, and half ran, half fell down the steps.
+
+To return to Femke for a little while. She had expected Walter at
+the bridge the next day after the story of the sun-worshipers. At
+first she thought that Walter was waiting till he could borrow from
+Stoffel the book with the picture showing Aztalpa embracing the two
+brothers. She wanted to see Walter with the picture; now she would have
+been satisfied with him without the picture. It couldn't be the boy's
+person, she thought--such a child!--but he did recite so well. Perhaps
+in the heart of the girl Walter and his recitals had already coalesced.
+
+"Put the clothes in the sun," cried her mother; and Femke translated
+that: Sun--Peru--Aztalpa--Kusco--Walter.
+
+"Run those fighters away; they'll throw dirt on the clothes."
+
+Femke dreamed: Courageously fighting against the enemies of the
+country--the noblest tribe of the Incas--Telasco--Walter.
+
+Everything seemed to be calling for Walter; but he did not come.
+
+The first day she was sad; the second, impatient; the third, restless.
+
+"Mother, I'm going to see what's become of the little boy who was
+going to write a poem."
+
+"Do, my child!" said the mother. "Do you think you will find him?"
+
+Femke nodded; but her nod was not convincing. She did not know where
+Walter lived and was afraid to say so. It took courage to start out to
+trace the child when she didn't know where he lived; and this courage
+she wished to conceal. And why? Just timidity incident to the tender
+feelings. Sometimes we conceal the good and boast of the bad.
+
+The girl dressed herself as prettily as she could and put all her
+money in her pocket. It was only a few stivers. She hurried through
+Ash Gate and inquired where the shop was that lent books. Thus she
+came directly to the Hartenstraat. She simply retraced the steps of
+our hero, when he made that first sally with Glorioso.
+
+Less timid than Walter--Femke was older, and had had more experience
+with men--she asked the gruff fellow in a business-like way for
+"the book about the countess with the long train or her dress."
+
+"What? What's the title?"
+
+"I don't know," Femke said. "It's about a robber--and the Pope's
+mentioned in it, too. I am hunting for the boy who read the book. I
+wanted to ask where he lives--I will pay you for your trouble."
+
+"Do you think I'm a fool? Am I here to hunt for boys?"
+
+"But, M'neer, I will pay you," the girl said, and laid the money on
+the counter.
+
+"Oh, get on! What do I know about your boy?"
+
+Femke got angry now.
+
+"I haven't done anything, and you can't run me off like that. No,
+you can't. If you don't want to tell me, you needn't to. You are an
+unaccommodating fellow!"
+
+She was going to leave, when it occurred to her to ask, "And won't
+you lend me a book, either?"
+
+"Yes, you can get a book. What do you want?"
+
+"That book about the robber and Amalia," said Femke. She felt now that
+she was a "customer," and oh, how proud she had become all at once!
+
+"I don't know anything about such a book. Do you mean Rinaldo
+Rinaldini?"
+
+"No. Is there more than one robber book? Just call over the names of
+them for me."
+
+This was said with an air of importance that was not without its effect
+on the shopman. He pulled down the catalogue, and soon he came to
+"Glorioso."
+
+"That's it, that's it!" cried Femke, delighted.
+
+"But you must deposit a forfeit," the man said, as he mounted the
+ladder to get that precious book.
+
+"No, no, I don't want the book at all. I only want to know where the
+boy lives who read it. I will pay you gladly," and she pointed to
+her money.
+
+"That isn't necessary," he said. "I don't mind accommodating you when
+you ask me politely."
+
+He looked in the register and found the name Femke had mentioned, with
+the address. He showed it to her, and was even going to explain to her
+the best way to get there; but Femke was already out the door. The
+fellow had difficulty in overtaking her to return the money she had
+forgotten on the counter.
+
+When she reached the address given, Femke learned that the Pieterses
+had moved to a "sweller neighborhood." It was quite a distance away;
+but Femke was not deterred by that.
+
+Once at the Pieterses', she was received by the young ladies with a
+rough, "What do you want?"
+
+"Oh, Juffrouw, I wanted to ask about Walter."
+
+"Who are you?"
+
+"I am Femke, Juffrouw, and my mother is a wash-woman. I would like
+to know if Walter is all right."
+
+"What have you got to do with Walter?" asked Juffrouw Pieterse,
+who had heard the commotion and came down.
+
+"Ah, Juffrouw, don't be angry--I wanted to know; and my mother knows
+that I've come to ask. Walter told me about Telasco, and the girl
+that was to die--oh, Juffrouw, tell me if he's sick! I cannot sleep
+till I know."
+
+"That's none of your business. Go, I tell you! I don't want strange
+people standing around the door."
+
+"For mercy's sake, Juffrouw!" cried the girl, wringing her hands.
+
+"The girl's crazy. Put her out, Trudie, and slam the door!"
+
+Trudie began to execute the order. Myntje and Pietje got ready to
+help her; but the child clung to the balustrade and held her ground.
+
+"Throw her out! The impudent thing!"
+
+"Oh, Juffrouw, I'm not impudent. I will go. Just tell me whether
+Walter is sick. Tell me, and I will go right now. Just tell me if
+he's sick--if, if he's going--to die."
+
+The poor child began to weep. Anybody else but those Pieterse women
+would have been touched at the sight. They were too far up the ladder.
+
+Plainer people, or nobler people would have understood Femke. Feeling,
+sympathy, is like the money in a gambling-place. It doesn't come
+to everybody. There wenches and countesses sit side by side; merely
+respectable people, who sell shoes made in Paris, are not there.
+
+"I won't go!" cried Femke. "Oh, God! I won't go! I will know whether
+that child is sick!"
+
+A door was heard opening above; and Walter came in sight. He tumbled
+down the steps and fell unconscious at Femke's feet.
+
+"That boy!" groaned the old lady, while the girls stood as if
+transfixed. Femke picked Walter up and carried him upstairs. His
+bed was pointed out to her, and she placed him in it. No one had the
+courage to run her away when she took a chair by the bedside. If at
+this moment the rights of the Pieterses and Femke had been voted upon,
+all the votes would have gone to Femke.
+
+She wept, and stammered "Don't be angry, Juffrouw; but I couldn't
+sleep for thinking of him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+Walter's illness now took a favorable turn. As soon as he was
+strong enough to leave his bed, the whole family noticed that he
+had grown. All remarked about it and called each other's attention to
+it. No one was better convinced of the fact than Juffrouw Pieterse; for
+"that boy" had "outgrown all of his clothes," and it would not be easy
+"to fit him out respectably again." So much interesting notoriety and
+respectability had been reaped from Walter's illness that it was only
+natural that his convalescence should be turned to the best account.
+
+The child would sit and fill in the colors in pictures. The doctor
+had presented him the pictures and a box of colors. The latter,
+so Stoffel said, were the genuine English article.
+
+Oh, such pictures!
+
+Walter was interested especially by pictures from the opera and the
+tragedy. There were pictures from Macbeth, Othello, Lear, Hamlet,
+from "The Magic Flute," "The Barber of Seville," "Der Freisch¸tz,"
+and from still a few more--each one always more romantic than the
+last. In selecting suitable colors for his heroes and heroines, Walter
+had the advice of the entire family, including Leentje. Usually there
+was disagreement, but that only made the matter more important. In
+only two details were they agreed: faces and hands were to have
+flesh-color, and lips were to be painted red. It had always been
+that way; otherwise, why was it called flesh-color? On account of
+this arrangement Hamlet came off rather badly, receiving a much more
+animated countenance than was suited to his melancholy.
+
+"I wish I knew what the dolls mean," said Walter. He was talking
+about his pictures.
+
+"It's only necessary to ask Stoffel," his mother replied. "Wait till
+he comes from school."
+
+Walter asked him. Stoffel--there are more such people in the
+world--would never admit that he did not know a thing; and he always
+knew how to appear knowing.
+
+"What the dolls mean? Well, you see--those are, so to say, the pictures
+of various persons. There, for instance, the one with a crown on his
+head--that is a king."
+
+"I told you Stoffel could explain them," corroborated his mother.
+
+"Yes, but I should have liked to know what king, and what he did."
+
+"Well! There it is at the bottom. You can read it, can't you?"
+
+"Macbeth?"
+
+"Certainly. It's Macbeth, a famous king of ancient times."
+
+"And that one there with a sword in his hand?"
+
+"Also a king, or a general, or a hero, or something of the
+kind--somebody that wants to fight. Perhaps David, or Saul, or
+Alexander the Great. That's not to be taken so exactly."
+
+"And the lady with the flowers? She seems to be tearing them up."
+
+"That one? Show her to me: Ophelia. Yes, that's Ophelia. Don't
+you know?"
+
+"Yes. Why does she throw the leaves on the ground?"
+
+"Why? why? The questions you do ask!"
+
+Here the mother came to the rescue of her eldest son.
+
+"Yes, Walter, you mustn't ask more questions than anybody can answer."
+
+Walter did not ask any more questions, but he determined to get to
+the bottom of the matter at the first opportunity. His imagination
+roamed over immeasurable domains--such an insatiate conqueror was
+the little emperor Walter in his night-jacket!
+
+He associated the heroes of his pictures with the doctor, who had been
+so friendly to him, and with his immortal Glorioso. The Peruvian story,
+too, furnished a few subjects for his empire. He married Telasco to
+Juliet; and the priests of the sun got their rights again. Master
+Pennewip received a new wig, but of gold-colored threads, on the
+model of the straw crown of a certain King Lear. Persons that he
+could see from the window were numbered among his subjects. He had
+to do something; and this foreign material was preferable to that in
+his immediate surroundings. Even Lady Macbeth, who was washing her
+hands and not looking particularly pleasing, seemed to him to be of
+a higher order than his mother or Juffrouw Laps.
+
+In fact, for him those pictures were the greatest things in
+the world. He was carried away with the crowns, diadems, plumes,
+iron gratings over the faces, with the swords and the daggers with
+cross-hilts to swear on--with the trains and puff-sleeves and girdles
+with pendents of gold--and the pages. All this had nothing in common
+with his everyday surroundings. How is it possible, he thought, that
+anyone who has such beautiful pictures should sell them? The doctor
+must have inherited them!
+
+Even if he had known that Lady Macbeth was the personification of
+crime, it would still have seemed to him a profanation to bring her
+into contact with the plebeian commonness around him.
+
+All at once something in Ophelia's form reminded him of Femke. She
+too could stand that way, plucking the petals from the flowers and
+strewing them on the ground.
+
+He had dim recollections of what had happened, and occasionally he
+would ask indifferently about "that girl." He was afraid to speak
+her name before Gertrude, Mina, and Pietro. He was always answered in
+tones that showed him that there was no room for his romance there;
+but he promised himself to visit her as soon as he got up.
+
+"When you're better you must go to see the doctor and thank him
+for curing you--but thank God first; and then you can show him what
+you've painted."
+
+"Of course, mother! I will give her the Prince of Denmark--I mean him,
+the doctor."
+
+"But be careful not to soil it; and don't forget that the ghost of the
+old knight must be very pale. Stoffel said so--because it's a ghost,
+you see."
+
+"Yes, mother, I'll make it white."
+
+"Good. And you'll make the lady there yellow?" pointing with a
+knitting-needle to Ophelia.
+
+"No, no," cried Walter quickly, "she was blue!"
+
+"She was? Who was?"
+
+"I only mean that I have so much yellow already, and I wanted to make
+her--this one--Ophelia--I wanted to make her blue. That one washing
+her hands can stay yellow."
+
+"So far as I'm concerned," the mother said, "but don't soil it!"
+
+Stoffel, in the meantime, had got on the track of those pictures. He
+was slick and had an inquiring mind. One of his colleagues at school,
+who was in some way connected with the stage, told him that such
+costume-pictures were of great value to players. He also told him
+other things about these pictures and about the play in general.
+
+It was fortunate for Walter that Stoffel brought this knowledge
+home with him. Even to-day there are people who find something
+immoral in the words "Theatre" and "Player"; but at that time it was
+still worse. The satisfaction, however, of imparting knowledge and
+appearing wise put Stoffel in an attitude of mind on this occasion
+that ordinarily would have been irreconcilable with that narrowness
+which with him took the place of conscience.
+
+"You see, mother, there are comedies and comedies. Some are sad,
+some funny. Some are all nonsense, and there's nothing to be learned
+from them; but there are comedies so sad that the people wail when
+they see them--even respectable people!"
+
+"Is it possible!"
+
+"Yes, and then there are others where there's music and singing. They
+are nice, and moral too. They are called operas; and people who
+are entirely respectable go there. You see, mother, there's nothing
+bad about it; and we ought not to be so narrow. The old Greeks had
+comedies, and our professors still study them."
+
+"Is it possible!"
+
+"Walter's pictures are from real comedies; but I can't tell all the
+details now. I will only say there are good comedies."
+
+"You must tell Juffrouw Laps. She always says----"
+
+"And what does she know about it? She never saw a comedy in her life."
+
+That was the truth; but it was just as true of the Pieterse
+family--with the exception of Leentje.
+
+One afternoon Leentje had complained of a terrible headache and
+had left off sewing and gone out. Later it was learned that she had
+not spent the evening with her mother; and then there was a perfect
+storm. But Leentje would not say where she had been that night. "That
+night" was Juffrouw Pieterse's expression, though she knew that the
+girl was at home by eleven o'clock. Leentje betrayed nothing. She
+had promised the dressmaker next door not to say anything; for the
+dressmaker had to be very careful, because her husband was a hypocrite.
+
+In Leentje's work-box was found a mutilated program; and then one day
+she began to sing a song she had never sung before--"I'm full of honor,
+I'm full of honor; oh, yes, I'm a man of honor!"
+
+And then it was all out! She had been to the Elandstraat and had seen
+the famous Ivan Gras in a comedy!
+
+Leentje began to cry and was going to promise never to do so again,
+when, to her amazement, she was told that there was nothing wrong in
+it, and that even the greatest professors went to see comedies.
+
+And now she must tell them about it.
+
+It was "The Child of Love," by Kotzebue, that had greeted her
+astonished eyes.
+
+"There was music, Juffrouw, and they played beautifully; and then the
+curtain went up, and there was a great forest, and a woman wept under
+a tree. There was a Baron who made her son a prisoner, because he was
+a hunter--but he spoke so nice, and his mother, too. The Baron said
+he was master on his place, and that he would punish such thieves. He
+was in a great rage. And then the mother said--no, somebody else
+came and said--but then the curtain went down. The dressmaker bought
+waffles that were being passed around, and we drank chocolate. The
+dressmaker said that every day wasn't a feast day. A man sat behind us
+and explained everything and took our cups when they were empty. Then
+the band played, 'Pretty girls and pretty flowers.'"
+
+"Shame!" cried the three young ladies. For it was a common street song.
+
+"And then the curtain went up again of its own accord; but the
+gentleman behind us said somebody raised it--perhaps the 'Child of
+Love' himself, for he was not in prison when the curtain was down. The
+dressmaker gave him a peppermint-drop, and he said: 'Watch the stage,
+Juffrouw, for you have paid to see it.' It cost twelve stivers,
+without the waffles and chocolate. Then the Baron said--but I can't
+tell it all exactly as it was. I will only say that the old woman
+wept all the time, and she could not be reconciled, because she was so
+unhappy. You see, Juffrouw, the child of love was her own child; and it
+was also the Baron's child of love. That was bad--because it was just
+a child of love, you see; and that is always bad. He had no papers,
+no credentials; nor the mother, either. And he was to die because he
+had hunted. Oh, it was beautiful, Juffrouw! And then the curtain went
+down again and we ate another waffle. The gentleman behind us said it
+was well that they gave plays with prison scenes in them. There were
+so many bad people in the hall, such as pickpockets and the like,
+and this would be a warning for them. The dressmaker was going to
+offer him another mint-drop, when she saw that her box was gone. It
+was silver. The gentleman said of course some pickpocket had taken it."
+
+"He was the pickpocket!" exclaimed several.
+
+Leentje was indignant at the idea.
+
+"No, no! Don't say that; it's a sin. He was a very respectable
+gentleman, and addressed me as Juffrouw, just as he did the
+dressmaker. He tried to find the thief. He asked where the Juffrouw
+lived, and said that if he found the box he would bring it to her. He
+wore a fancy vest--no, no, no. Don't say that of him!"
+
+"Well, tell some more about the child of love." All were interested.
+
+"Oh, the music was so nice! And a gentleman showed them with a stick
+how to play."
+
+"But tell us about the comedy!"
+
+"That is not so easy. It was very beautiful. It must be seen; it can't
+be told. The Baron saw that the hunter in prison was his own son;
+because a long time before, you see, that is--formerly, he had been
+acquainted with--you understand----"
+
+Poor Leentje turned as red as fire, and left her audience in a
+temporary suspense.
+
+"Yes, he had known the old woman formerly, and then they were good
+friends, and were often together--I will just tell it that way--and
+they were to marry, but something came between them; and so--and--for
+that reason the comedy was called the 'Child of Love.'"
+
+Walter listened with as much interest as the others; but he was less
+affected than the girls, who sat quietly staring into space. Stoffel
+felt called upon to say something.
+
+"That's it! He abused her chastity--that's the way it's spoken of--and
+she was left to bear the disgrace. The youth of to-day cannot be
+warned enough against this. How often have I told the boys at school!"
+
+"Listen, Walter, and pay attention to what Stoffel says!"
+
+Encouraged by the approval of his mother, Stoffel continued.
+
+"Yes, mother, virtue must be revered. That is God's will; and what God
+does is well done. Of all sins sensual pleasure is--a very great sin,
+because it is forbidden; and because all sins are punished, either
+in this world or in the next."
+
+"Do you hear, Walter?"
+
+"Here, or in the next world, mother! Innocent pleasure, yes; but
+sensual pleasure--it is forbidden! It loosens all the ties of human
+society. You see that such a comedy can be very fine. Only you must
+understand it properly--that's the idea."
+
+"And what did the Baron do then?"
+
+"Ah, Juffrouw, what shall I say! He talked a whole lot to the old
+woman, and was very sad because he had--away back there--because
+he had----"
+
+"Seduced her," added Stoffel, seeing that Leentje couldn't find the
+word. "That's what it's called."
+
+"Yes, that's what she said, too; and he promised never to do it
+again. And then he told the child of love always to follow the path
+of virtue, and that he would marry the old woman. She was satisfied
+with the arrangement."
+
+"I suppose so," cried the three girls in a breath. "She will be a
+rich baroness!"
+
+"Yes," said Leentje, "she became a great lady. And then the child of
+love fell on the Baron's neck; and they played 'Bridal Wreath.' The
+'Child of Love' became a hussar and sang, 'I'm full of honor, I'm
+full of honor; Oh, I'm a man of honor!' I don't know what became of
+the old Baron. And then we went home; but the dressmaker took no more
+pleasure in the play now, because her silver box was gone. I don't
+know whether the gentleman ever brought it to her, or not."
+
+The play was out.
+
+The girls thought: "Baroness!"
+
+Stoffel was thinking: "Virtue!"
+
+The mother's thoughts ran: "Twelve stivers for a ticket, and waffles
+and chocolate extra!"
+
+Walter was saying to himself: "A hunter! A whole year in the forest,
+in the great forest, and alone. I'd like to do it, too."
+
+He took up his brush and looked at Ophelia: "To be alone in the great
+forest with--Femke!"
+
+But the theatre question was far from being settled. Leentje had to
+clear up many doubtful points yet. For instance, Pietro wanted to
+know how old the woman was when the Baron finally married her. Leentje
+thought she must have been about sixty.
+
+Also Juffrouw Laps had to express her opinion. She declared that she
+was opposed to everything "worldly," and insisted that Walter be sent
+to church.
+
+Later she got into a big dispute over the theatre with Master
+Pennewip, whom Stoffel had brought in to reinforce his position. He
+had brought with him "Floris the Fifth," that powerful comedy by the
+noble Bilderdyk. With many declensions and conjugations and remarks
+on rhyme and metre, he explained, firstly, that "Floris the Fifth"
+was a play from which much could be learned; and, secondly, that the
+theatre was something very moral and thoroughly respectable.
+
+To be sure, he failed to convince Juffrouw Laps. Nor was Walter
+greatly impressed by that masterpiece, despite the fact that there
+were three deaths in it. He much preferred the beautiful story of
+Glorioso, or the Peruvian story--or even Little Red Riding Hood.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+Walter had been to church: that was now behind him. Stoffel thought
+the pastor had preached a beautiful sermon, and said that "in a way
+all he said could be accepted." He hoped that it would "bear fruit."
+
+"Yes," said the mother, "and he mustn't tear his new breeches
+again. They cost too much hard work for that."
+
+As a matter of fact the "hard work" done in the Pieterse family
+might be regarded as a negligible quantity. There was the necessary
+housework, and the usual complaining--or boasting, if you will--but
+this was to be expected.
+
+That Walter had postponed his visit to go to church was a result of
+the frightful threats of Juffrouw Laps. She cited Second Chronicles
+xvi. 12, and in the face of this text the Pieterses were not able
+successfully to defend their new and more liberal position. Juffrouw
+Pieterse could only say that the Bible was not to be interpreted that
+way, as if everything in it applied to a given individual.
+
+But Juffrouw Laps stuck to it, that if one has faith and grace one
+may come through all right; whereupon Juffrouw Pieterse expressed
+her willingness at all times to take advice.
+
+"Those are the essential things; through them we are saved! And--send
+him to me the first of the week. Or he can come Sunday, but after
+church. Then he can tell me about the sermon, even if the pastors
+are--but what does a child know about it!"
+
+Juffrouw Laps didn't think much of pastors. She held that people
+with grace in their hearts can understand God's word without Greek
+and Latin.
+
+"Yes, Sunday after church. I will count upon it." And in order to
+make her invitation more insistent she mentioned certain sweets that
+she usually served her guests at that time.
+
+Supposing that Juffrouw Laps was really anxious for Walter to come,
+we must admit that she showed deep knowledge of boy-nature.
+
+As for Walter, he was afraid to be alone with this pious lady. For
+him she was the living embodiment of all the plagues that are made
+use of in the Old Testament to convert rebellious tribes to the true
+faith. For instance, thunder and lightning, pestilence, abysses,
+boils, flaming swords, etc.
+
+If he had had the courage he would have asked her just to deposit
+the promised dainties somewhere outside of her flat. He would find
+them then. But he didn't have the courage.
+
+"And why didn't you go?" asked the mother when Stoffel's enthusiasm
+over the sermon had begun to die down.
+
+Walter said he had a pain in his stomach, which children always have
+when they want to bridge over disagreeable duties. With a better
+understanding between the parents and children this disease would be
+less frequent.
+
+"I don't believe you have any pain in your stomach," declared the
+mother. "It's only because you're a bad child and never do what you're
+told to do."
+
+Stoffel agreed with her; and then a council of war was held. Walter
+was condemned to go to Juffrouw Laps's at once; and he went.
+
+Expecting some terrible ordeal, he was greatly embarrassed and confused
+by the show of friendliness with which he was received.
+
+"And you did come, my dear boy! But you are so late! Church has been
+out a long time. See what I have for you, expressly for you!"
+
+She thrust him into a chair at the table and shoved all sorts of
+sweets over to him. Walter's embarrassment increased; and he felt
+even less at ease when she began to stroke him and call him pet names.
+
+"Now, tell me about the sermon," she said, when the child tried
+to escape the tenderness and affection to which he was not
+accustomed. "What did the pastor say?"
+
+"The text----"
+
+"But that's all right--afterwards, when your mouth is empty. You must
+eat a few cakes first. Nobody can do everything at once. There is
+chocolate; and you're to have a little dram, too. I've always said
+that you are a nice boy; but they're forever plaguing you so. But
+you're not eating enough; do just as if you were at home."
+
+For Walter that was not the right expression. At home!
+
+His first surprise over Walter began to be possessed by a feeling of
+fear. Why, he could not have told to save him.
+
+Suddenly he got up and declared that his mother had told him not to
+stay long.
+
+There wasn't a word of truth in it. Juffrouw Laps protested, but
+Walter held his ground. Despite all of that kindness Walter was able
+to escape from the enemy.
+
+Promising "to come back soon" he ran down the steps and into the
+street.
+
+An indescribable feeling of freedom regained thrilled through him. He
+had escaped. It was incomprehensible even to him. Never had he been
+received so kindly, so cordially; never had he been treated in a
+manner approaching this. But why his antipathy? When he left she
+was going to kiss him, but he managed to dodge her. Why? He didn't
+know. But it made him shudder to think of it.
+
+Should he go home now? What excuse could he give for coming back
+so soon?
+
+Involuntarily he bent his steps toward Ash Gate. It was not his
+intention to visit Femke--not at all, really not! For he didn't have
+his Ophelia with him--proof conclusive that when he left home he had
+not thought of Femke.
+
+And when he came in sight of his mills on the Buitensingel--oh,
+they were silent! Was there no wind? Or were they observing Sunday?
+
+The Buitensingel was full of people taking a Sunday stroll. Walter
+followed the small stream, which led him towards Femke's house. Soon he
+stood before the low enclosure; but he did not dare to go in. Why? He
+put the blame on the absent Ophelia.
+
+"If I only had that picture here I'd certainly go in!"
+
+That is questionable. Even with the picture he would have probably
+been just as shy. He didn't know what he ought to say--or, better,
+whether he could say anything, or not. He reflected. Suppose Femke's
+mother should ask, "Did you want anything?"
+
+We--yes, the "gentle reader" and I--we should have known what to
+answer. I wonder if our wisdom would have been wiser than the stupidity
+of the child, who stood irresolute and hesitating before the fence?
+
+He stood staring at the house, his mouth wide open. His knees trembled,
+his heart fluttered, his tongue was dry.
+
+A small column of smoke curling up from the chimney aroused him. What
+if a fire should break out! Then he would have to go in. He would
+rescue her, and carry her away in his arms--far, far away--to the end
+of the world, or at least outside of the town! Just anywhere where
+the people wear red velvet and green silk, where the gentlemen carry
+big swords and the ladies wear long trains. They would be so becoming
+to Femke. And she should ride horseback, and he would follow her--no,
+he would ride by her side, with a falcon on his hand!
+
+If a fire should break out!
+
+But Walter saw that the house was in no danger. This smoke came from
+the kitchen. He noticed other houses in the neighborhood where cooking
+seemed to be going on, and everywhere the chimneys were bearing witness
+to activities below which were presumably similar to those of Femke.
+
+Finally a crowd of fellows came along who had evidently been stopping
+at one of those establishments where "refreshments" are served. They
+had been greatly refreshed, and in their exuberance of freshness,
+so to say, they crowded Walter away from the fence and took him along
+with them for a little way.
+
+He was easily reconciled to this; for why, he thought, should he
+stand there and watch the smoke? There wasn't going to be any fire;
+and then he didn't have Ophelia with him.
+
+But to-morrow! To-morrow he would bring that picture with him! And
+then he wouldn't stand at the fence like a baby.
+
+He felt ashamed when he thought of his friends in their gay colors,
+or in armor, with plumes and swords. Those kings and knights and
+pages--they had been courageous, otherwise they never would have
+received such high orders and distinctions. Unless there were some
+change, he felt that he would never be pictured like that.
+
+However, he expected that such a change would come--without doubt,
+surely, certainly, truly! The further he went, the more determined
+he became to go in the next day and put on a bold front and say:
+"Good-day, Juffrouw, how do you do?"
+
+It was more difficult for him to decide what he would say to Femke.
+
+He made up various little speeches in the manner of Floris the
+Fifth. In case Femke shouldn't like them he was going to say, "Why,
+that is from our greatest poet."
+
+And then he would ask her to explain a lot of mysterious words
+in Floris that he hadn't understood--for instance, "fast fellow,"
+"coverture," "chastity," and others.
+
+Walter's development was determined by his desire to know things. His
+feeling for Femke, which was hardly real love, was subordinated to
+his thirst for knowledge. He knew that he couldn't get much from her,
+especially book-learning; but it was a pleasure merely to discuss
+things with her, even if she knew nothing about them.
+
+He was curious to know all that she might have to tell him, or to ask
+him; for no doubt she too had been saving up her impressions for her
+first friend. But, alas! he was not so certain of her friendship! True,
+when he was sick she had asked about him; but perhaps she was just
+passing by, and thought how easy it would be to ring the bell and ask,
+"How is Walter?"
+
+Still it had taken courage to do it. What would Mungo Park have said
+if he had seen him hesitating before the gate! Walter knew that wasn't
+the way to conquer the world.
+
+And if anybody had asked Mungo Park: "What do you want in Africa?"
+
+Well, he would have answered. Such a traveller in such a book is
+never embarrassed.
+
+Then Walter began to address all sorts of remarks to negro kings
+that he had conquered with lance and sword. All the women kissed his
+hand as he rode by on his bay, with fiery red caparison. He inquired
+patronizingly after those good girls who had nursed him in his illness,
+"because the strange white man was far from mother and sisters and
+had no home." He would reward them princely.
+
+In all this conquered land Walter was king and Femke was--queen! How
+magnificent the big red velvet cloak would look on her--and the
+gold crown!
+
+Conquering continents was easy. He was scarcely thirteen; and yet
+he was afraid that somebody might get ahead of him while he was
+being detained by the treacherous Pennewip with declensions and
+conjugations. And, then there were still more things to learn before
+one could be king, even of a small country. Pocket-change would have
+to be increased too, for, with all possible economy, six doits a week
+were insufficient. The Hallemans--well, they had more; but fortunately
+they were not thinking of Africa. For the present he was not afraid
+of any competition from that quarter; but other children, nearer the
+"grown-up" stage, might get the idea in their heads! And then, what
+would he do to keep his mother from guessing when he made his trips
+into the "interior" longer, and stayed out later than was allowed by
+the regulations of the Pieterse household?
+
+It was a difficult matter, but he would manage it.
+
+All that might happen to him and Femke in Africa would be read
+afterwards in pretty little books with colored pictures. He already
+saw himself sitting on a throne, and Femke by his side. She was not
+proud; she was willing for everybody to know--all those kneeling
+before her--that she had been a poor wash-girl. She had become queen
+because Walter had loved her; and now they needn't kneel any more.
+
+On special occasions--well, of course, that was different; for
+instance, when his mother and Stoffel came to visit him. They should
+see how all the people honored him--and Femke whom they had treated so
+badly. But once would be enough; then he would forgive them everything
+and build them a big house with water-barrels and wash-tubs. For
+Pennewip he would build a big schoolhouse, with desks and ink-bottles
+and copy-books and wall maps of Europe and tables of the new weights
+and measures. Then the old master could give instruction from early
+in the morning till late at night--or even all night.
+
+He was just puzzling over how he was going to reconcile Master
+Pennewip and the dusky young African to one another when Leentje
+opened the door.
+
+Without noticing it he had got home and rung the
+door-bell. Unsuspectingly he fell into an environment quite different
+from that in which he had moved for the last half hour. He scarcely
+understood what his mother meant when she asked him how the visit
+turned out, and whether Juffrouw Laps was satisfied with his report
+on the sermon.
+
+Sermon? Laps? He was unprepared for such an examination. He stammered
+out a sort of miscellaneous and irrelevant jumble of words, but
+fortunately containing nothing about Africa.
+
+It now developed that in the meantime there had been a sudden change
+in certain details of religious belief.
+
+"You see, mother?" said Stoffel. "Just as I've always said, it
+would take a lawyer to explain anything to suit her. She always
+knows better----"
+
+"That's so," answered the mother. "She's cracked or crazy. Now,
+just tell me, Stoffel, if anyone can expect such a child to remember
+everything a preacher says. I can't do it myself; and you can't do it,
+either. Master Pennewip can't do it. I tell you, nobody can do it. And
+to require that of such a child! She just wants to play the professor;
+that's the reason she does it."
+
+Stoffel was of the same opinion. Encouraged by his sympathy the mother
+became eloquent.
+
+"I would like to know what she's thinking about; or if she thinks
+she's a pastor. With all her biblical quotations! And then to torment
+a child hardly out of a sick bed--it's a disgrace. You don't need to
+go to her. What business have you got with her? I tell you----"
+
+Here it occurred to her that she herself had compelled Walter to go,
+and she interrupted this line of thought to scold Walter and tell him
+to get out of his Sunday breeches. Her dissatisfaction with herself
+expressed itself further in a funeral oration on Walter's last suit,
+which had cost so much "hard work."
+
+"And then to let that child sit there for an hour without anything
+to eat or drink! She would----"
+
+Walter's feeling for justice couldn't let that pass. He assured them
+that on the contrary--and then that excessive kindness got in his way
+again. In his confusion he went into all the details of the chocolate.
+
+"Well! Why didn't you say so at once? But it's all the same. I was
+going to add that she ought to have given you something to eat. That's
+the way such folks are--always grumbling about others and they won't
+see themselves. I believe in grace too, and when I have my housework
+done I like to hear the Scripture read--but to be everlastingly and
+eternally prating about it? No, that isn't religion. What do you say,
+Stoffel? One must work part of the time. Walter! aren't you going
+to pull off those new breeches? I've told him a dozen times. Trudie,
+give him his old ones!"
+
+Walter changed his breeches; but he promised himself that in Africa
+he would wear Sunday breeches every day.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+The next day Walter rang the doctor's door-bell. His heart was in a
+flutter, for the doctor lived in an imposing house. He was admitted
+and, after he had been announced, was told just to come upstairs.
+
+The maid conducted Walter to the "study," where the doctor was busy
+performing one of his paternal duties: he was teaching his children.
+
+There were three. A boy, somewhat older than Walter, sat alone in one
+corner writing at a small table. The other two, a boy of Walter's
+age and a girl that seemed to be a few years younger, stood before
+the table behind which the doctor was sitting. On the table stood a
+large globe, evidently the subject of discussion. This became clear
+to Walter later, for, as far as he knew, he had never seen such a
+large ball. He didn't know that there was any other way to explain
+the location of countries except by means of maps. Thus he noticed
+in the room all sorts of things that he didn't understand till later.
+
+When the maid opened the door of the room he heard the voices of
+the children, and also that of the father. He even heard laughter;
+but when he walked in all became as still as death. The two children
+at the table stood like soldiers. There was something so comical in
+their attitude that Walter could have laughed at them if he hadn't
+been so embarrassed. Even the girl had a touch of official earnestness
+in her face more striking than he had seen it in older people, even
+at church. While the doctor was welcoming Walter and offering him
+a chair, the boy stood with hands clapped down on the seams of his
+trousers as if he expected someone to say, "Right about--face!" or,
+"Forward, column right, march!"
+
+The larger boy in the corner had only looked up once, but with
+that peculiarly hostile expression which distinguishes man from
+other animals--to the disadvantage of the former. It is noticeable
+especially in children--sometimes in women.
+
+"I'm glad to see you, my boy. It was nice of you to come. What have
+you there?"--then he turned to the little soldiers.
+
+"Remind me afterward to tell you at dinner something about Olivier
+van Noort. William, you can think of it, can't you?"
+
+Walter squinted at his Lady Macbeth, and was so embarrassed that he
+was helpless to present it to the doctor. The room was so magnificent;
+and the furnishings--the big cases full of books! His picture seemed
+so common and ugly that, if he could have done so, he would have
+swallowed it.
+
+At home they had taught him how he must stand and sit and speak;
+and now he stood there, as awkward as a cow, stammering and
+stuttering. Making a supreme effort he managed to get it out that he
+had "come to thank the doctor" for his recovery--"but God first"!
+
+The two soldiers bit their lips; and even the doctor found it difficult
+to keep a straight face.
+
+"God first! Well said, my boy. Have you already thanked God?"
+
+"Yes, M'nheer, every evening in bed, and yesterday at church."
+
+Little Sietske unable to control herself any longer had to laugh
+outright. Her laughter threatened to become contagious. William was
+busier than usual with his nose; Hermann had come to life and was
+eyeing Walter slyly.
+
+"Order!" thundered the doctor, giving the table a rap with a ruler
+that made the globe tremble. Walter was frightened. "Order! This is
+a nice caper during study-hours."
+
+The clock began to strike. Sietske seemed to be counting, for at
+every stroke she raised a finger.
+
+"I am going to----"
+
+"Five!" she cried. "All my fingers--just look, five! Five o'clock,
+papa--Tyrant! Hurrah, hurrah!"
+
+Both boys joined in the uproar. It was a quodlibet from "Gaudeamus
+igitur," "Vive la joie," and "God save the king." Forward, all! Vive
+la vacance! A bas les tyrans! Revenge! * * * *
+
+The children were determined to have their well earned romp; and they
+had it. Walter rubbed his eyes, and would not believe his ears. It
+was beyond his comprehension. * * * *
+
+"That will do now," said the doctor. "Come, mamma is waiting
+dinner--and you, too, my boy!"
+
+William took Sietske on his back and Hermann mounted the father. Thus
+they descended the stairs, Walter bringing up the rear. Lady Macbeth
+had disappeared, being now crumpled up in Walter's breast-pocket.
+
+Walter was nonplussed. Was this the same man who used the gold
+pen?--whose coachman wore the furs?
+
+How was it possible? Was it a dream, that he and all the family had
+looked on this man and simply been overcome by his dignity?
+
+He couldn't understand it.
+
+Again the atmosphere of the dining-room was quite different from that
+of the schoolroom, either before or directly after five.
+
+"Present the young gentleman to your mamma," said the doctor, turning
+to William.
+
+"May I do it?" asked Sietske.
+
+Doctor Holsma nodded, and the little girl took Walter by the hand and
+conducted him to a lady who sat at the head of the table preparing
+the salad.
+
+"Mamma, this is a young gentleman--oh, I must know your name. What
+is your name?"
+
+"Walter Pieterse."
+
+"This is Mr. Walter Pieterse, who has come to thank papa, because
+he--he was sick; and he--the young gentleman is going to stay for
+dinner, papa?"--the doctor nodded again--"and he's going to stay for
+dinner, mamma."
+
+"With mamma's consent," said the father.
+
+"Yes, with mamma's consent."
+
+Mevrouw Holsma spoke to Walter kindly and offered him a chair. It
+was necessary, too.
+
+Everything seemed so princely to Walter that he was glad to be
+seated. Three-fourths of his little figure was hidden under the
+table. That was something gained. He was amazed at almost everything
+he saw and heard. He folded his hands.
+
+"Do you want to say a grace, little man?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Yes, M'nheer," Walter stammered.
+
+"A good custom. Do you always do that at the table?"
+
+"Yes, always--at warm meals, M'nheer!"
+
+Those children had been taught good manners. Nobody smiled.
+
+Walter bowed his head for a moment; and the doctor took advantage
+of the opportunity to give the children a look of warning. They
+remembered; and, if afterwards Walter discovered that he had cut a
+singular figure in this household, they were not to blame.
+
+"You do well to do it," said Holsma. "We don't do it; and perhaps we
+do well not to."
+
+"Certainly," said the mother. "Everyone must act according to his
+own conviction."
+
+This simple statement moved Walter more than any of them could have
+imagined. He--a conviction! That short sentence of Mevrouw Holsma
+attributed to him a dignity and importance that was strange to him,
+and gave him a right he had never thought of before. Through the soup
+he was thinking continually: "I may have a conviction!"
+
+It never occurred to him that a thing could be interpreted otherwise
+than it was interpreted for him by his mother or Stoffel, or some
+other grown-up person. The whole question of praying, or not praying,
+did not appear so important to him as this new fact, that he could
+have a conviction. His heart swelled.
+
+The doctor, who understood Walter, recalled him from his thoughts.
+
+"Everyone must act according to his conviction; and in order to come
+to a conviction one has to reflect a long time over the matter. I
+am convinced that our little guest would like to eat some of those
+peas. Pass them to him, Sietske."
+
+Walter had grasped the import of Holsma's words, and also the meaning
+of this transition to the peas. Walter felt--without putting his
+feelings into words--that the pedantry of the schoolroom had been put
+aside at five o'clock, and that his host merely wanted to give him a
+friendly warning against dogmatic bigotry, without tainting the fresh,
+wholesome atmosphere of the dining-room.
+
+Despite his shy, retiring nature--or, better, in connection with this
+characteristic--Walter was an extremely intelligent boy. This fact
+had escaped almost everybody he had come in contact with because of
+his lack of self-confidence, which prevented him from revealing his
+true self. He usually seemed to comprehend more slowly than others;
+but this was because he was less easily satisfied with the result of
+his thinking. His mind was exacting of knowledge. During Walter's
+sickness Holsma had remarked this peculiarity of the boy, and his
+interest had been enlisted at once.
+
+Walter's shyness was due in a great measure to the manner in which
+he had been taught what little he knew. Everything his teachers
+taught him was looked upon by them as something immutable and
+irrefutable. Twice two is four, Prince so-and-so is a hero, good
+children go to heaven, God is great, the Reform Church represents the
+true faith, etc., etc. It was never hinted to him that there was any
+room for doubt. Indeed, he was led to believe that his desire to know
+more about things was improper and even sinful.
+
+After all those extraordinary occurrences in the study, Walter was
+prepared to expect almost anything in the way of the unusual, but
+that William and Hermann, and even little Sietske, were allowed to
+help their plates to whatever they wanted--that was more wonderful
+to him than the aÎrial voyage of Elias. With GeneviËve in the famous
+wilderness--yes, even in Africa it couldn't be any more free and
+easy. He was continually surprised and taken off his guard by the
+unwonted and unexpected. In fact, his thoughts were so far away that
+when during dessert the little girl passed him a saucer of cream----
+
+Ye gods, it happened and--I must tell it. Oh, if like the
+chroniclers of old, I might put the blame on some privy councilor,
+"who unfortunately advised," etc.
+
+But what privy councilor in the whole world could have advised Walter
+to let that porcelain spoon tilt over the edge of the saucer and fall
+into Sietske's lap! He did it, he!
+
+Oh, how sad it was. He had just begun to pull himself up in his
+chair. Another moment and he would have actually been sitting. Perhaps
+he might have said something soon. The name of a certain country in
+Africa, which Sietske could not remember a moment before, had occurred
+to him. It was not that he might seem smarter than Sietske that he
+was going to speak out. No, it was only that he might seem a little
+less stupid than himself. But now--that miserable spoon!
+
+Before he had time to wonder how his awkwardness would be received,
+Sietske was talking along smoothly about something else--just as if
+this little "catastrophe" was a matter of course.
+
+"Papa, you were going to tell us something about Olivier van Noort."
+
+She arose, wiped off her little skirt and fetched Walter another
+spoon from the buffet.
+
+"Yes, papa, Olivier van Noort! You promised it, papa."
+
+All urged him to tell the story. Even Mevrouw Holsma manifested great
+interest in it. Walter was aware that this conversation was intended
+to cover up his accident. He was moved; for he was not accustomed to
+anything like this. As Sietske took her seat again she noticed a tear
+creeping down across his cheek.
+
+"Mamma, I got a silver spoon. That's just as good, isn't it? These
+porcelain things are so heavy and awkward. They've fallen out of my
+hand three times; and Hermann can't manage them, either."
+
+The mother nodded to her.
+
+"And how it is with Olivier van Noort?"
+
+The door-bell rang, and almost immediately afterwards a gentleman
+entered the room who was greeted by the children as Uncle Sybrand.
+
+The host now invited all to the garden and sent Hermann to the study
+for a book.
+
+"You young rascal, don't you go now and maliciously break that
+globe. It can't help it."
+
+Then came the story of Admiral Olivier van Noort and the poor
+Vice-Admiral Jan Claesz van Ilpendam, who was put ashore in the Strait
+of Magellan for insubordination. It interested all, and called forth
+a lively discussion, in which the entire family as well as the guests
+took part.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+To readers of a certain class of fiction it will no doubt seem strange
+if I say that Walter's visit to the Holsma family influenced greatly
+his spiritual development. Not immediately; but a seed had been planted
+which was to grow later. He saw now that after all independent thought
+was possible, even if he could not yet allow himself that luxury. The
+mere knowledge that there were other opinions in the world than those
+of his daily mentors was a long stride forward.
+
+He was depressed on account of his lack of knowledge. Those children
+knew so much more than he did; and this made him sad.
+
+They had spoken of someone who was startled to find footprints. Who
+was it? The child had never heard of Defoe's hermit. He asked Stoffel.
+
+"Footprints? Footprints? Well, you must tell me what footprints you
+mean--whose footprints. You must give names when you ask questions."
+
+"That's right," said the mother, "when you want to know anything
+you must mention names. And Mevrouw made the salad herself? Well,
+that's strange. The girl must have been out somewhere."
+
+As to other "strange" things, which were not likely to meet the
+approbation of his family, Walter was silent. Not a word about
+that Saturnalia, or the omission of grace at a "warm meal"! Nor
+did he mention the liberties that were allowed the children, or the
+freedom with which they joined in the conversation. Perhaps it was
+a superfluous precaution. That bearskin would have been excused for
+many shortcomings.
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse asked repeatedly if he had been "respectable." Walter
+said he had, but without knowing exactly what she meant. That affair
+with the spoon--had it been respectable? He didn't care to have this
+question decided--at least by his mother. But it was nice of Sietske;
+and wouldn't he have done the same?
+
+He learned that the day was approaching when he must return to
+school. More than ever he felt that this source of knowledge was
+insufficient for him; but opposition was not to be thought of. He
+was dissatisfied with himself, with everything.
+
+"I shall never amount to anything," he sighed.
+
+His Lady Macbeth seemed uglier to him than ever. He tore her up. And
+Ophelia?
+
+Goodness! He hadn't thought of Femke the whole day. Was it because
+she was only a wash-girl, while the doctor's children were so
+aristocratic? Walter censured himself.
+
+He took advantage of the first opportunity to pay his debt in that
+quarter. For he felt that it was a debt; and this consciousness gave
+him courage. Picture in hand, he passed the familiar fence this time
+and knocked boldly on the door. His heart was thumping terribly;
+but he must do it! In a moment he stood before Femke. The lady of
+his heart was quietly darning stockings. It is hard on the writer;
+but this little detail was a matter of indifference to Walter.
+
+"Oh!" she cried, extending her hand. "Mother, this is the young
+gentleman we saw that time--the little boy who was so sick. And how
+are you now? You look pale."
+
+"Take a seat, little boy," said the mother. "Yes, you do look
+pale. Worms, of course."
+
+"No, no, mother. The child has had nervous fever."
+
+"All right--fever, then; but it could be from worms. Give him a cup,
+Femke. It won't hurt you to drink coffee; but if it were worms----"
+
+Mrs. Claus's worms were more in Walter's way than the stockings.
+
+"Where does your mother have her washing done?" she asked. "Not that
+I want to pump you--not at all. But if she isn't satisfied with her
+wash-woman--it sometimes happens, you understand. Everybody must
+look out for himself; and I just thought I'd mention it. Whenever
+there are any ink-spots Femke takes them out with oxalic acid; and
+it never makes any holes--yes, it did happen once, and we had to pay
+for a pair of cuffs. You can ask Femke."
+
+The fact was, he wanted to ask Femke something else; and she knew
+it. The story of Aztalpa had left its marks on her mind. But she
+was hampered very much like Walter was at home. She couldn't say,
+"Mother, speak a bit more Peruvian!" So she simply asked what the
+roll was that he had in his hand.
+
+Walter was confused, but he managed to stammer that it was a present
+for her. Femke said she would always take good care of the picture.
+
+"Yes," said the mother, "and you must iron out those creases. We iron,
+too, little boy, and we deliver the clothes ready to put on. Nobody can
+complain. You can tell your mother. And your collar--it isn't ironed
+nicely--and such bluing! Ask Femke. Femke, isn't the blue in stripes?"
+
+His collar not ironed nicely? and blued in stripes? And the infallible
+Pietro had laundered it! Even here, were there differences in method
+and conception? And in this respect, too, was the Pieterse tradition
+not the only one that brought happiness?
+
+Femke was on nettles. She studied Ophelia, wondering who she was,
+and tried to turn the conversation. At last something occurred to
+her. It was necessary for her to run some errand or other, and "the
+young gentleman" could "accompany" her a part of the way.
+
+"As far as I'm concerned," said the mother.
+
+The young couple retired, taking one of those ways which in the
+neighborhood of Amsterdam are simply called "the ways." That is all
+they are. Whoever walks there for pleasure must take a good stock of
+impressions with him, in order to escape tedium.
+
+But Walter and Femke were not lacking in this respect. Walter had
+so much to tell Femke that he could scarcely hope to get through;
+and she, too, had thought of him more than she was willing to admit,
+and more than he had any idea of. She began by saying that she hadn't
+told her mother of her unfriendly reception by Walter's mother and
+sisters, because she didn't want her mother----
+
+"Oh, Femke--and you thought I would come?"
+
+"Yes." said Femke, hesitating, but still with a readiness that
+delighted Walter. "Yes, of course I expected to see you again. And
+I had a mass said for your recovery."
+
+"Really?" said Walter, who hardly knew what it meant.  "You did that
+for me?"
+
+"Yes, and I prayed, too. I should have been sad if you had died. For
+I believe you are a good boy."
+
+"I ought to have come sooner; and I wanted to, but--Femke, I was
+afraid."
+
+He related to her how he had been near her on Sunday. The girl
+attributed his timidity to his diffidence toward her mother.
+
+"My mother is a good woman. She wouldn't hurt anybody, but--you
+understand. She doesn't mix with people much. I understand the
+world better, because, you see, I was a nurse for three weeks. I was
+only substituting; I was too young to be a real nurse. It was at a
+relation's of ours, where the girl was sick. You know we really come
+of a good family. But that makes no difference. Tell me, are you well
+and strong again?"
+
+Walter told her now all about his sickness, and soon he came
+involuntarily to the thing that gave him most trouble, his defective
+knowledge.
+
+"All the children know French; but at our school it isn't taught. It's
+impossible to be a great man without knowing French."
+
+Walter had difficulty in explaining to her that he meant something
+other than the possession of three houses, though that might not
+be bad.
+
+"I should like--you understand? I should like--yes--I should like--how
+shall I explain?"
+
+The sovereignty of Africa was on the end of his tongue; but he didn't
+have the courage to put his dreams into words.
+
+"You know, Femke, that we live here in Europe. Now, down there in the
+south, far away--I will draw it for you. We can sit down here and I
+will show you exactly what I mean."
+
+He selected some small sticks suitable for making outlines on the
+ground, then he and Femke sat down on a low pile of boards. He
+proceeded to scratch up the sand for some distance around.
+
+"That is Europe. The earth is round; that is, it consists of
+two halves, like a doughnut. You see, it looks like a pair of
+spectacles. With that half we are not concerned. That's America. You
+can put your feet on it if you want to. Here is where we live; there
+is England; and here is Africa. The people there are uncivilized. They
+can't read, and they don't wear many clothes. But when a traveler
+comes along they are very nice to him--the book says so. I'm going
+down there and teach all the people to read and give them clothes and
+see to it that there is no injustice done in the whole land. And then
+we will----"
+
+"I, too?" asked Femke in amazement.
+
+"Why, certainly! I wanted to ask you if you were willing to go with
+me. We will be man and wife, you understand; so when I get to be king
+you will be----"
+
+"I? Queen?"
+
+She laughed. Involuntarily she rose and trampled to pieces all the
+kingdoms that Walter had just laid at her feet.
+
+"But--won't you be my wife?"
+
+"Oh, you boy! How did you get such nonsense into your head? You are
+still a child!"
+
+"Will you wait then till I'm grown up? Will you let me be your friend?"
+
+"Certainly! Only you mustn't think of that nonsense--not that you may
+not go to Africa later. Why not? Many people go on journeys. Formerly
+there lived a carpenter near us, and he went to the Haarlem with his
+whole family. But--marrying!"
+
+She laughed again. It pained Walter. The poor boy's first proposal
+was turning out badly.
+
+Suddenly Femke became serious.
+
+"I know that you are a good boy; and I think a great deal of you."
+
+"And I!" cried Walter. "Femke, I have thought of you all the time--when
+I was sick--in my fever--I don't know what I thought of in my fever,
+but I think it must have been you. And I talked to the picture I
+painted for you as if it were you; and that picture answered like you
+and looked like you. I was Kusco and Telasco, and you were Aztalpa,
+the daughter of the sun. Tell me, Femke, may I be your friend?"
+
+The girl reflected a moment; and in her pure, innocent heart
+she felt the desire to do good. Was that seventeen-year-old girl
+conscious of the influence that Walter's childish soul exerted upon
+her? Scarcely. But she wanted to give him a less cruel answer.
+
+"Certainly, certainly you shall be my friend. But--but----"
+
+She was hunting for some excuse that would not hurt him, and still let
+him see the difference in their ages. He had grown during his illness,
+to be sure, but still--she could have carried him on her arm. And he
+had dreamed of rescuing her from a fire!
+
+"My friend, yes. But then you must do everything that I require."
+
+"Everything, everything! Tell me quick what I can do for you."
+
+It was painful for the girl. She didn't know what she should require;
+but she was under the necessity of naming something. She had always
+heard that it was good for children to study hard. What if she should
+spur him on to do that?
+
+"Listen, Walter. Just for fun I told my mother that you were the best
+in school."
+
+"I?" cried Walter abashed.
+
+"Study hard and be the first in school inside the next three months,"
+said Femke to the conqueror of continents, unaware of the sarcasm
+that lay in her words. "Otherwise, you see, my mother might think
+I had made fun of you; and I don't want that to happen. If you will
+only do that----"
+
+"I will do it, Femke!"
+
+"Then you must go home and begin at once."
+
+Thus she sent him away. As she told him "Good-bye" she noticed all
+at once that he was too large for her to kiss. A few hours later,
+when Father Jansen was calling on her mother and incidentally saw
+Walter's painting, Walter suddenly became a child again. The priest
+had said that in Dutch Ophelia meant Flora, who was the patron-saint
+of roses and forget-me-nots.
+
+"Oh, that picture is from a little boy, a very small boy. He's about
+ten years old--or nine. He's certainly not older than nine!"
+
+"Girl, you are foolish!" cried the mother. "The boy is fifteen."
+
+"Yes, that may be--but I just meant that he's still only a child."
+
+She stuck Ophelia away in some hidden nook, and Mrs. Claus and Father
+Jansen never saw that new edition of the old flower-goddess again.
+
+"Femke, I will do it!" Walter had said.
+
+There was really reason to believe that he would learn faster now;
+but Pennewip's instruction would wear Femke's colors. Walter knew
+very well that in requiring this service she had had his own welfare
+in view; but this showed her interest in him, and was not so bad. How
+would it have looked, he thought, if, after all that had gone before,
+he had answered: "Everything except that!"
+
+Of course he would have greatly preferred to serve his lady on some
+journey full of adventure. But one cannot select for one's self
+heroic deeds. In these days Hercules and St. George would have to
+put up with miniature dragons.
+
+At all events, Walter took hold of his work in earnest. He studied his
+"Ippel," his "Strabbe," his "National History" and even the "Gender
+of Nouns," and everything else necessary to the education of a good
+Netherlander. Poetry was included; and Walter's accomplishments along
+this line were such that other "Herculeses" might have envied him.
+
+He had never read the stories of tournaments. No enchantress gave
+him a charmed coat of mail; no Minerva put the head of Medusa on
+his shield--no, nothing of all that. But--Keesje, the butcher's boy,
+might look sharp for his laurels!
+
+In justice to Walter it must be said that he gave his opponent fair
+warning, in true knightly style.
+
+At the end of three months Walter was actually the first in his
+classes. Pennewip was compelled to take notice of it.
+
+"It is strange," he remarked. "I might say that it is remarkable. Yes,
+in a way, it is unprecedented--without a parallel!"
+
+At home the result was that a great council was held regarding Walter's
+future. He didn't want to become a compositor; and to be a sailor--that
+would have suited him, but his mother was opposed to it. Stoffel,
+too, objected on the ground that usually only young people who are
+worthless on land are sent to sea.
+
+Thus Walter's plans for conquest were slipping away from him. He
+was not attracted by the brilliant careers that were proposed: They
+left Africa out of account. He didn't want to be a school-teacher,
+or a shoemaker, or a clerk, or a counter-jumper.
+
+However, after all authorities had been heard, Stoffel came
+to the conclusion that Walter was peculiarly well fitted for
+"business." Juffrouw Pieterse agreed with him thoroughly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+"A responsible business firm wants a young man (Dt. Ref.) of good
+family. He must be moral, well-behaved and not under fifteen years
+old. Prospect of salary if diligent and reliable. Good treatment
+guaranteed. Address written applications in own handwriting to
+'Business,' care E. Maaskamp's book and art store, Nieuwendyk,
+Amsterdam."
+
+The writer cannot recall what sort of art publications E. Maaskamp was
+dealing in just at that time, and will not make any guesses, for fear
+of getting the reader into chronological difficulties. If it should
+become necessary in writing Walter's history, the writer would have
+no compunctions of conscience in putting the republic after Louis,
+or William I. before the republic.
+
+And as for that "Dt. Ref."--Dutch Reform--in the advertisement--that
+gives the writer no trouble. He knows very well that "Dt. Ref." as a
+necessary qualification for servants, apprentices, etc., was introduced
+after E. Maaskamp's pictures had been forgotten. Nevertheless, it
+must be insisted upon that the aforesaid abbreviation was in the
+advertisement which was now occupying the undivided attention of
+the Pieterses.
+
+"There couldn't be anything more fortunate," said the mother. "What
+do you think, Stoffel?"
+
+"Yes, mother, it couldn't be better."
+
+"What pleases me especially is the 'well-behaved.'"
+
+"Moral and well-behaved, mother."
+
+"Yes, moral and well-behaved--do you hear, Walter? Just as I have
+always said. And 'prospect of salary.' What do you think of that,
+Stoffel?"
+
+"Yes, mother; but--he must be 'diligent and reliable.'"
+
+"Yes, Walter, you must be diligent and reliable. Haven't I always told
+you that? And they require 'Dt. Ref.'; but you are that, thank God."
+
+"Yes, mother, he's that all right."
+
+"Stoffel, don't you think you'd better write the letter?"
+
+"But it says 'in own handwriting.'"
+
+"That's so! But if you write the letter in your own handwriting--that
+will be better than for such a child to write it."
+
+Stoffel had some difficulty in making it plain to his mother that
+"own handwriting" meant Walter's own handwriting; but she finally
+saw the point, and Walter was given a seat at the table.
+
+"Well? What must I write at the top?"
+
+"Now, have you forgotten that again? Such a simple thing? Have you
+got down the date? Then write 'Gentlemen,' in business style. It says,
+'responsible business firm.'"
+
+"Yes," said the mother, "and add that your father had a business,
+too. We sold shoes from Paris. Otherwise they will think we're only
+shoemakers."
+
+"And write that you are the first in school."
+
+"And that you belong to the Dutch Reform Church."
+
+"And that you are moral and well-behaved."
+
+"And that you are diligent and reliable. Don't you see, you may get
+a salary then right away."
+
+At last the letter was ready. It only remained to stamp it and post
+it. But why couldn't the young applicant deliver the letter in person
+and save the postage? Stoffel thought there would be no impropriety
+in such a course. Even a responsible business firm ought to overlook
+such a detail.
+
+With a heavy heart Walter started out on his important errand. He was
+entering the real world, and was about to become a worshiper of the
+great god of "business." He was depressed by his lack of confidence,
+and felt that it was unbecoming in himself to make application to a
+"responsible business firm."
+
+If he met a man that looked well-to-do, he would ask himself if
+the gentleman was a "business man," and belonged to a "responsible
+business firm." This last high-sounding expression embodied mysteries
+which he did not attempt to understand. He would learn it all later.
+
+Walter stammered an excuse to the young fellow in the shop for not
+having sent his letter by post. The fellow didn't understand him, but
+threw the letter carelessly into a box containing a few dozen others
+that were awaiting the favorable consideration of Messrs. Motto,
+Business & Co.
+
+The fellow was busy with some Turkish battles in glaring colors,
+and declined to enter into any conversation with our hero. Walter's
+mouth watered for a bright picture of Grecian chivalry. But what good
+did it do? He had no money; and, besides, he was out for business,
+not for heroic deeds.
+
+"Later!" he thought.
+
+Arrived at home he received the usual scolding. His mother maintained
+that he had certainly not entered the shop in a "respectable" manner;
+otherwise the young gentleman would have given him a friendlier
+reception. She was afraid that those excellent gentlemen, Motto,
+Business & Co., would take this into consideration to his detriment.
+
+"And you say there were already a whole lot of letters there? You
+see, Stoffel--if he only isn't too late! That's the way--those people
+would break their necks or be first. And who knows but what some of
+them are Roman Catholics? I wonder if they all think they're moral
+and well-behaved. You can just see what kind of people there are in
+the world!"
+
+Walter had to go back to Maaskamp's and get the address of the firm
+in question. The idea was for him to call on the firm in person and
+thus get ahead of everybody else. Juffrouw Pieterse wanted to bet her
+ears that not a one of the other applicants could boast of a father
+who had sold Parisian shoes.
+
+"Tell them that! Your father never took a stitch in his life. He
+didn't even know how to. It's only to prove that we had a business,
+too. He never had an awl in his hand--isn't it so, Stoffel?"
+
+Those eminently respectable gentlemen, Motto, Business & Co., lived--I
+don't know where they lived; but they had founded on the Zeedyk a
+cigar store and a circulating library. It was probably not far from
+the place where six or eight centuries earlier a few fishermen had
+founded the greatest commercial city of Europe.
+
+Walter found one of those worthy gentlemen behind the counter. He was
+in his shirt-sleeves, and was engaged in weighing out some snuff for
+an old woman. "Business" was evidently being carried on.
+
+As Walter had formed no conception of "responsible business firm,"
+he was far from thinking that the gentlemen had claimed too much for
+themselves. With his peculiar timidity he even reproached himself
+for not having understood the conception "business" before.
+
+Now he understood it. Business meant to stand behind a counter,
+in shirt-sleeves, and weigh snuff. And, too, on the Zeedyk.
+
+The cigar store occupied only half the width of the house, and was
+connected with the circulating library by a side door. Motto, Business
+& Co. were simultaneously cultivating two industries: those who didn't
+care for snuff or tobacco could get something to read, and vice versa.
+
+Over the shelves, on the tobacco side, were posted signs bearing the
+assurance that something was "manufactured" here. Differing entirely
+from the Pieterses, these gentlemen seemed to think that to make
+a thing meant more than merely to sell it. We leave the question
+undecided.
+
+Was it true that this business firm manufactured anything? The only
+thing they manufactured was the paper bags that were to be pasted
+together by the moral, well-behaved, diligent and reliable young man
+who was a member of the Dutch Reform Church.
+
+The amount of business done was small, the profits barely paying the
+rent. The wicked world on the Zeedyk even said that the two blue
+porcelain vases bearing in old-fashioned letters the inscriptions
+"Rappee" and "Zinking," had been borrowed from a second-hand dealer
+in the neighborhood, and that the good man came by every day to look
+after his property.
+
+The shop was small, and was closed off in the rear by a green curtain,
+which was calculated to make customers think there was something more
+beyond. To be exact, there was something beyond that curtain. There
+hung a dilapidated mirror, consoling with a lonely chair, which was
+now ornamented by the coat of the worthy senior partner; and leaning
+against the wall was a half-round table, on which a pomatum-pot
+was making fun of a comb because for years it had been expecting
+to grow new teeth. Business was not so exacting but that Mr. Motto
+could devote a little spare time to the improvement of his personal
+beauty. He had succeeded in developing two beautiful bunches of hair
+on the sides of his face. They cost him much pains and grease; but
+they were the delight of all the ladies who entered the shop.
+
+"And so you want to go into business, do you?" asked Mr. Motto,
+after he had given the old woman a "pinch" from the jar. "What all
+have you studied? Reading, writing, arithmetic, French? Eh? And what
+are your parents."
+
+"They dealt in shoes--from Paris, M'neer. But I don't know
+French. Arithmetic--yes. Went through Strabbe."
+
+"And you know arithmetic, do you? How much then is a Pietje and
+a half?"
+
+Walter stammered that he didn't know. Does the reader know?
+
+"But you must know that if you expect to calculate. And you don't know
+what a Pietje is? Do you know the difference between a sesthalf and
+a shilling? And between a dollar and a twenty-eight piece? Look----"
+
+Mr. Motto pulled out the cash-drawer and seemed to be hunting for a
+dollar; but for some reason or other he decided to make out with a
+sesthalf. This he laid on the counter and asked Walter to imagine a
+shilling lying beside it. He then proceeded to test Walter's knowledge
+of business by asking him to point out the differences between the
+two coins. Mr. Motto claimed that in business one must know these
+details thoroughly.
+
+And Mr. Motto was right about it. At that time there were more
+different kinds of money in the Netherlands than there are in Germany
+now. To be able to distinguish the various coins readily and make
+change accurately a regular course of study was necessary. Just
+as a law was about to be passed to confer the title, "Doctor of
+Numismatics," on examination, the secretary of the treasury discovered
+that all this trouble could be spared by simplifying the money. He
+became very unpopular after this.
+
+In Walter's time, though, such a reform had not been thought of. The
+florin had twenty stivers; the regular Holland dollar had fifty
+stivers, the Zeeland dollar had forty-two. The dollar was worth a
+florin and a half, and the gold florin was called a "twenty-eight,"
+because it contained twenty-eight stivers. The coins were well-worn and
+seldom exhibited any traces of inscriptions, milling, etc. Matters were
+further complicated by three-florin pieces and ducats of sixty-three
+stivers, not to mention any other coins.
+
+For Walter the money question was a serious one.
+
+"And you don't know French, either?" in a tone that was scarcely
+encouraging.
+
+"No----" mournfully.
+
+"And would your parents put up cash security for you?"
+
+Walter didn't understand the question.
+
+"Caution. Don't you understand? Security! There's lots of money
+handled, and I must know who I'm turning the shop over to. And--do
+you know Danish?"
+
+Mr. Motto did not always speak grammatically.
+
+"No--M'neer."
+
+"What! Nor Danish, either? But Danish sailors come in here to buy
+tobacco, and then you need to speak Danish. In a business like this
+here you must know all languages. That's the main thing--otherwise
+your cake's dough! I've even had Greeks to come in here."
+
+Walter's heart gave a jump. What heroic deeds might they not do on
+such occasions!
+
+"Yes, Greeks; but they were drunk and wanted a smoke for nothing. We
+don't do it that way. The main thing is to look out for the
+little things. Otherwise your cake's dough, you understand. Yes,
+in business you must know all languages, otherwise you can't talk
+to the customers. That's the main thing. But that will be all right
+if your parents can deposit a caution. Sometimes there are at least
+ten florins in the cash-drawer, you know; and in business a man must
+have security. That's the main thing. Otherwise your cake's dough;
+you can see that for yourself."
+
+"My father is dead," said Walter, as if that fact rendered the cash
+security unnecessary. He didn't know anything else to say.
+
+"That so? Dead! Yes, it often happens. Dead? All right! But haven't
+you a mother who can pay for you?"
+
+"I--will--ask--her," Walter stammered.
+
+"Certainly. Ask her right away; for you know in business things
+are done in a hurry. Said, done! That's the main thing. Otherwise
+your cake's dough. Here is another shop, and you will have work to
+do in there, too--if your mother can put up the money. That's the
+main thing."
+
+Mr. Motto conducted Walter into the circulating library. On three sides
+of the room were bookcases reaching to the rather low ceiling. For the
+rest, the place was provided with a ladder to be used in gathering
+such fruits of literature as hung out of reach. And then there was
+a big, thick book, in which the diligent and reliable young man of
+Protestant faith was to enroll the names of the people who paid a
+dubbeltje a week for a book. It's cheaper now.
+
+"You see," said Mr. Motto, "that is the book, so to say the great
+book. You understand bookkeeping, don't you?"
+
+Unfortunately Walter had to admit that he had not yet studied that
+branch.
+
+"Nor bookkeeping, either? Boy! that's the main thing in business. If
+a man can't do that his cake's dough. It's very simple. You write down
+who takes out a book, with the day and date and street and number. And
+when they bring the book back you drawn a line through it; and you've
+got a pretty kettle of fish if you don't do it. When you don't know
+the people you must----"
+
+"Ask for a deposit!" cried Walter quickly, rejoiced that he knew
+something. It's doubtful if he knew what he was to draw the line
+through.
+
+"Yes, a deposit. A florin a week for a volume. Then, you understand,
+when a volume's gone, the cake's dough with that volume. Later I will
+explain to you everything about the cigars and tobacco; but first
+I must know whether your mother--ask her right away! And now I've
+explained everything to you at least half a dozen times. For there's
+no lack of boys that want to go into business; but when it comes to
+Moses and the Prophets--then they set the bow-sails. And that's the
+main thing. Otherwise you look a little delicate, but I must know
+first if your mother can deposit a caution. Adieu!"
+
+Walter went home in a peculiar frame of mind. At first the family
+did not think favorably of that "cash security." Stoffel, however,
+had often heard of such things, and negotiations were opened with
+the said firm. It was finally agreed that a deposit of one hundred
+florins should be made, for which the firm agreed to pay 3 1/2%
+interest. Juffrouw Pieterse was not quite satisfied with this, as
+she was accustomed to getting 4%; but "one must do something for
+one's children."
+
+Stoffel, who represented the Pieterses in these negotiations, was
+surprised that he never got to see more than the first half of
+the firm--or, better, the first third. He even took the liberty
+of remarking on the peculiar circumstance, when he learned that
+the "Co." was merely ornamental, while "Business" existed only in
+Mr. Motto's imagination. In fact that handsome and worthy gentleman
+alone constituted the "responsible business firm," and like an Atlas
+carried on his broad shoulders all the responsibilities incident to
+such a complicated and extensive undertaking. It was quite natural
+that he should desire to put a part of the burden on the back of some
+diligent, reliable Protestant boy, who could furnish cash security. For
+that was "the main thing."
+
+On the library side Walter developed a diligence against which only
+one thing could be urged: it was prejudicial to the tobacco industry
+adjoining. If he had smoked as much as he read, he would have made
+himself sick; and even his reading wasn't the best thing in the world
+for his health.
+
+He devoured everything indiscriminately--whether ripe or green. Most
+of that literary fruit was green. In a short time he was able to
+foretell the fate of the hero with a certainty that would have piqued
+the author. The cleverest literary craftsman couldn't let the poor
+orphan boy be as poor as a church mouse for ten pages, but that
+Walter would see the flashing of the stars and knightly crucifixes
+with which he was to be decked out on the last page. One might think
+this would cause him to lose interest in the book; but, no! He was
+constant to the end--to the official triumph. For him it would have
+been a sin to call to the Saxons and Normans a second too soon:
+"See if Ivanhoe isn't going to smash that big-mouthed Sir Brian de
+Bois-Guilbert!" And all the time he felt as if he were--Ivanhoe? No,
+as if he were the deity, who must give the hero strength to overcome
+that infamous scoundrel, Brian de Bois-Guilbert.
+
+Then all at once the door-bell would ring, and the magnanimous Walter
+would have to occupy himself with things less chivalrous.
+
+The only thing he could do in such moments was to weigh accurately,
+and not give anybody a cigar from the "tens" instead of from
+the "eights." Such conscienciousness, however, was futile, for
+in the cigar-boxes were cigars that ought to have been called
+"twenties." Mr. Motto said that the customers were usually drunk,
+and that it was all right to give them cabbage leaves to smoke. "You
+must size up your customer. That's the main thing."
+
+This was something Walter never could learn. With him, ten was ten,
+eight eight--no matter who the customer was. To take an unfair
+advantage, or tell a lie never occurred to him. From fear or
+embarrassment he might possibly tell an untruth; but if he had been
+asked a second time----
+
+As strange as it may seem, this aversion to lying and deception
+was nourished by the books he read. The brave knight fought till he
+was victorious, or dead. Only the fatally wounded surrendered. All
+this had Walter's hearty endorsement: He would not have acted
+differently. The beautiful heroine was loved by everybody; and the
+rejected suitors died of despair, or joined some desperate band. All
+quite proper. The good remained steadfast, in spite of the Devil and
+all his machinations--yes, in spite of tedium. Once selected by the
+author to be a high-toned, moral hero--then spotless garments! Walter
+wondered if such a one could have a pain in the stomach, or suffer
+other inconvenience. Certainly not in books!
+
+He did not know that such perfection was humbug. He was satisfied
+when the characters in such novels did what was required of them by
+the author. The villains were always betraying somebody; the heroes
+killed everything that got in their way; and the beautiful virgins
+charmed everybody. Even God, the God of romance, did his duty much
+better than--but that's another detail.
+
+Yesterday on the Zeedyk a big boy had beaten a little fellow. That
+ought to happen in a book. How all the knights would have come
+running! Walter, too, was going to--but how could he help it if his
+employer called him back? "What in the devil have you got to do with
+that? Your work is here in the store. You attend to your own business
+now, and don't mix yourself in other people's brawls. That's the
+main thing!"
+
+As a rule of conduct, this was not just what Walter was used to in
+his novels.
+
+Despite such interruptions he continued his reading. He was almost
+ready to begin on the last section of books, when he came to the
+store one morning and found everything locked up and under seal.
+
+The worthy Mr. Motto, it seems, had gone to America, as a sailor;
+and doubtless that was the "main thing." The unfortunate owner of the
+two snuff-vases had a big law suit over them. The point was whether
+they were a part of the assets, or not.
+
+On the Zeedyk at Amsterdam such processes must be tried according
+to Roman law; but as the Romans did not use snuff there is nothing
+said about "Rappee" in the Roman laws. The writer doesn't know how
+the matter finally turned out. It is to be hoped that everybody got
+what was coming to him.
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse, however, did not recover her hundred florins; and,
+as usual, she groaned: "There's always trouble with this boy."
+
+Walter couldn't help her. He had his own troubles: he had been cruelly
+interrupted in his reading. Of course the mysterious parentage of
+the young robber was perfectly clear to him; but still one likes to
+see whether one has guessed correctly, or not.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+"Do you think stivers grow on my back?" asked the mother the next
+day. "You still don't earn a doit! Do you have to buy tobacco for
+old soldiers?"
+
+Walter had nothing to say. Recently his mother had given him a shilling
+to give to Holsma's maid. Walter neglected to do this, and spent one
+stiver of the money on snuff for an old soldier.
+
+The mother continued her tirade, making use of the word "prodigue,"
+prodigal.
+
+"No, mother," said Stoffel, "that isn't it. He's behind in
+everything. He doesn't know yet how to handle money, that's it!"
+
+"Yes. He doesn't know how to handle money! All the other children at
+his age--when they have a stiver they either save it or buy themselves
+something. And he--what does he do? He goes and gives it away! Boy,
+boy, will you never learn any sense?"
+
+Walter was cut to the quick by the accusation of wastefulness and
+prodigality. In his eyes a prodigal was somebody, a man! "Prodigue,
+prodigue," he murmured. He knew the word.
+
+In one of the bedrooms hung a series of crude, highly colored pictures
+illustrating the story of the prodigal son. The pictures were French;
+and a study of the titles convinced the family that "prodigue" could
+mean nothing but prodigal in the worst sense, i. e., "lost." Stoffel
+had maintained this proposition against one of his colleagues, till
+that one drew a lexicon on him.
+
+After much argument it was decided to compromise on the "mistake"
+in the French Bible by allowing "prodigue" to have sometimes the
+meaning of "extravagant." Those pictures had afforded Walter much
+food for thought.
+
+First picture: The "lost" or prodigal son tells his father
+good-bye. The old gentleman wears a purple coat. Very pretty--but the
+prodigal himself! A mantle floated about his shoulders--it seemed to
+be windy in the colonnade. It was princely; and his turkish trousers
+were of pure gold. At his side was a bent sabre, and on his head a
+turban, with a stone in it--certainly onyx, or sardonox, or a pearl,
+or a precious stone--or whatever it might be!
+
+The old gentleman seemed to be out of humor; but no wonder--all those
+loaded camels, and the slaves, and all the accessories for that long,
+long journey! A negro, as black as pitch, was holding a horse by
+the rein. Another negro was holding the stirrup, and seemed to say:
+"Off to the Devil; prodigal, get on!"
+
+What boy wouldn't have been a prodigal son? The bent sabre alone was
+worth the sin.
+
+Second picture: Hm--hm. Wicked, wicked! Why, certainly; but not for
+Walter, who in his innocence attached no importance to the extravagant
+dresses of the "Juffrouwen." It was sufficient that all were eating
+and drinking bountifully, and that they were in good spirits and
+enjoying themselves. How prettily one of the girls, in glossy silk,
+was leaning over the shoulder of the "lost" one! How much nicer to be
+lost than found!--anyway, that was the impression the feast made on
+Walter. The true purpose of the picture--to deter people from a life of
+dissoluteness--escaped Walter entirely. Perhaps he knew what it meant;
+but in his heart he felt that it meant something else. What attracted
+him most was not the food and drink, under which the table "groaned,"
+nor the sinful sensuality painted on the faces of the ladies. It was
+the freedom and unconventionality of the company that charmed him. In
+order to emphasize the idea of prodigality, the painter had allowed
+some big dogs to upset an open cask of wine.
+
+The wine was streaming, and straying away as if it were the lost
+sinner. This pleased Walter immensely. None of the guests seemed to
+notice such a small trifle, not even the waiters. This ought to have
+happened just once in the Pieterse home--and even if it were only a
+stein of beer!
+
+The artist says to himself, Do you suppose I didn't foresee the
+seductive influence of such a picture? The next one makes it all right!
+
+Well, maybe so.
+
+Third picture: Magnificent. How romantic this wilderness! Oh, to
+sit there on that boulder and stare into the immeasurable depths of
+the universe--alone!
+
+To think, think, think!
+
+No schoolmaster, no mother, brother, or anyone to say what he
+must do with his heart, with his time, with his elbows, or with his
+breeches! That's the way Walter saw it. The young man there didn't even
+have on breeches; and he looked as if he wouldn't have been ashamed
+to stretch himself out on his back, with his arms over his head, and
+watch with wide-open eyes the passing of the moon and stars. Walter
+asked himself what he would think of when he had founded such an
+empire of solitude.
+
+Hm! Femke could sit on the boulder with him. Prodigal son--oh,
+sin divine with her! He was surprised that in the whole Bible there
+was only one prodigal son. Of all sins this seemed to him the most
+seductive.
+
+And the desert was so--endurable. There were trees in it, which one
+could climb, when one really got lost, or use to build a nice little
+cabin--for Femke, of course.
+
+The prodigal in the picture didn't seem to have thought of all
+that. Why wasn't the Juffrouw in green silk with him? She will come
+soon, Walter said to himself. Perhaps she's not quite through with
+her prodigality. If she would only hurry up and come! He longs for
+her. But that is the only annoyance that a genuine prodigal takes
+with him from the profane world into that capital wilderness.
+
+It must be remarked in passing, however, that the hogs with which
+that picture was equipped looked ugly. The pious artist had made them
+shield-bearers of sin, and had supplied their physiognomies with all
+kinds of horrible features. And, too, the trough looked dirty.
+
+If it happens to me, said Walter, I'll take sheep with me; and Femke
+can card the wool.
+
+The artist ought to admit that even this third picture is inadequate
+to inspire a proper disgust for prodigality.
+
+And the fourth one? No better.
+
+The old gentleman is excessively friendly. We are again in the
+colonnade, where the camels have just waited so patiently. One of the
+slaves clasps his hands and looks toward heaven--because he's glad,
+of course, that little Walter has come back.
+
+He? The real Walter? Returned home, and friendly received in his high
+rank of a "has-been" and "recovered" prodigal? Oh, no!
+
+And that fatted calf! In direct opposition to the custom that was
+familiar to Walter! It worried the boy. Juffrouw Pieterse never
+slaughtered anything. She ran a weekly account with Keesje's father;
+and even a roast was a rarity.
+
+There was no prospect of a fatted calf, whether he became a prodigal
+or not. But that didn't keep the rank of a prodigal from being higher
+than that of a stupid boy who didn't know how to handle money.
+
+He was encouraged to think that he was indebted to his friendly
+enemy, Juffrouw Laps, for something. She always cited the Bible,
+and spoke continually of feeding swine. Walter wanted to answer:
+"That's very nice, Juffrouw Laps, but can't it be sheep this time?"
+
+He knew very well that she had never had any passion for carding,
+and consequently was not interested in that blue muffler, which would
+be so becoming to Femke's favorite sheep.
+
+But she assured him that he was a prodigal; and that was enough.
+
+"That's what I've always said!" replied Juffrouw Pieterse. "What
+does he do but squander his mother's money? If that man wants snuff,
+let him buy it. The king pays him. I have to work too hard for my
+money. Don't I, Stoffel?"
+
+"Yes, mother; but it's only childishness in Walter!"
+
+"Childishness! That's what I call it."
+
+"No it isn't!" cried the pious Laps. "He's on the straight road to
+the trough of Luke 15. He will eat husks! Do you think the Master
+doesn't carry out his parables? Just send him to me. The pastors are
+to blame for it. They don't explain the Bible. Send him to me."
+
+"If I only knew how he gets such things into his head!"
+
+"You don't know? It's arrogance!"
+
+She spoke the truth.
+
+"Arrogance, Arrogance pure and simple--just as it was in Belshazzar,
+or Sennacherib, or Nebuchadnezzar."
+
+How thankful Walter was! If at this moment he had had a letter to
+write--preferably to Femke--he would have boasted of being as wicked
+as three old kings put together.
+
+"Arrogance!" repeated Juffrouw Laps. "Gold on top, iron in the middle,
+and feet of clay. The Master will overthrow him. Send him to me."
+
+This invitation to turn over the royal villain to her for religious
+instruction was repeated so often that it was necessary to give her
+an answer.
+
+"But, dear Juffrouw, the boy don't want to. He's stubborn; and what
+can one do with such a child?"
+
+Walter knew that his mother was not quite truthful; but, after his
+former experience with his friendly enemy, he found it desirable to
+keep quiet. When pressed, however, for an explanation he said:
+
+"The man wanted snuff, and nobody would give him any; so I----"
+
+Juffrouw Laps knew enough. Walter was as good as her prisoner: she
+now knew exactly how to take his fortifications, if they could be
+taken at all.
+
+"If he doesn't want to come to me, don't compel him," she said sweetly
+on leaving. "To force him won't do any good. Let him exercise his own
+pleasure. I'm afraid you pick at the child too much, anyway. What an
+awful fuss we've made over a stiver!"
+
+"That's what I say, too," replied the mother. "It looks as if we
+begrudged him the money! We could have spared another stiver, and we
+wouldn't have missed it, would we, Stoffel?"
+
+"Yes, mother, but it's time for Walter----"
+
+"Goodness, what a hullaballoo to raise about a few pinches of
+snuff! The Master will repay it seven times seventy times. Whatever
+ye have done to the least of my brothers----"
+
+With this consoling passage on her lips she took her leave of the
+astonished family.
+
+Yes, it wasn't so easy to see through Juffrouw Laps!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+In his efforts to reconcile the various conflicting authorities
+contesting for supremacy in his soul, Walter threw himself into a
+severe spell of blues. He was not conscious of the contrast between
+the world of his high-flown fancy and the earthy environment of his
+home-life. The sympathetic care which he should have received after
+his illness had not fallen to his lot.
+
+He felt dejected.
+
+"Femke!" he thought; and he longed for her fresh healthy face,
+for her pure, unselfish glance, for her friendly smile. The Fancy
+that had led him away to the stars in search of his misty sister had
+got lodged on that girl of the Amsterdam lowlands, Femke--with her
+unpoetical length, breadth, thickness, and weight.
+
+"I am going to see her," he cried. "I will! And if Mrs. Claus asks
+me about worms a dozen times, it's all the same to me; I am going to
+see her!"
+
+Walter reached the house and knocked. "Come in!" someone called. This
+was a little sudden, for it took some time to get hold of the
+latch. But Walter did it. Perhaps he was thinking of Missolonghi.
+
+The Turks that he saw now were not revolting in appearance. They were
+unarmed and did not murder a single baby.
+
+But--Femke was not in the party.
+
+Mrs. Claus was at the wash-tub, while Father Jansen was quietly
+smoking.
+
+"Is that you, young man? Very nice! That's the young man who gave
+Femke the picture, you remember, father?"
+
+The father nodded to him kindly and smoked away, without manifesting
+any special Godliness.
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw, I wanted to----"
+
+"Very nice of you! Won't you have a slice of bread and butter? And how
+is your mother? Is she better now? She was sick, wasn't she? That's
+a good boy, father. Femke said so. Is your mother better again? It
+was fever, wasn't it? or apoplexy--or what was it then?"
+
+"Oh, no! Juffrouw."
+
+"You mustn't call me Juffrouw. I am only a wash-woman. Everyone must
+stay in his own class, mustn't he, father? Well, it's all the better;
+I thought she had been sick. It must have been somebody else. One
+has so much to think of. Do you like cheese?"
+
+The good woman prepared a slice of bread and butter, with cheese. If
+Trudie could have seen it, she would have fainted. In the "citizen's
+class," such and such a sub-class, according to Pennewip, is found
+a certain scantiness that does not obtain in the common laboring
+class. In the matter of eating, laborers, who do not invest their
+money in Geneva, are not troubled so much by "good form" as people
+who give their children French names.
+
+Walter had never seen such a slice of bread. He didn't know whether he
+ought to bite through the width, or the thickness. The bit of cheese
+gave him his cue.
+
+He liked Mrs. Claus much better this time. And Father Jansen, too;
+even if he wasn't like Walter had imagined him to be.
+
+He had never conceived a preacher as being anything else but a very
+supernatural and spiritual and celestial sort of person. Father Jansen
+didn't seem to be that kind of a man at all.
+
+He visited the sheep of his fold, especially the plain people, not
+to make a display of beneficence--for he had nothing, but because he
+was happiest among simple people. He was fond of bread and butter of
+the Mrs. Claus variety. For the rest, he said mass, preached about
+sin, catechised, confirmed, absolved, and did whatever needed to be
+done. He performed the functions of his office, and did not think
+it at all strange that he should have gone into the church, while
+his brother in Nordbrabant succeeded to the business of his father,
+who was a farrier and inn-keeper.
+
+"And what are you going to be?" he asked Walter; "for everybody in the
+world must be something. Wouldn't you like to be a bookbinder? That's
+a good trade."
+
+"I was--I was in business, M'neer; and I'm going back to business."
+
+"That's good, my boy. You may get rich. Especially here in Amsterdam;
+for Amsterdam is a commercial city."
+
+Walter wanted to add: "The greatest commercial city of Europe." But
+he was abashed by the--worldliness of Father Jansen's talk. He didn't
+find it disagreeable: he was merely surprised at it.
+
+"A boy like you ought to eat a lot. You look pale. My brother can bend
+a horseshoe. What do you say to that? Have you ever eaten our Brabant
+bread? Ham isn't bad, either. A person that doesn't eat enough gets
+weak. I always eat two slices of bread and butter whenever I'm here
+at Mrs. Claus's; but I'm not nearly so strong as my brother. You
+ought to see the Vucht fair. That's a great time."
+
+Walter was more than surprised to hear such talk from a preacher: he
+was almost pleased. He had never received such charming messages from
+heaven. Of course they came from heaven, those friendly words uttered
+in Brabant dialect between the puffs of Father Jansen's pipe. This
+man in a priest's coat chattered away as if there were no such thing
+in the world as God, Grace, and Hell--especially the latter. He was
+as happy as a child in telling about the strength of his brother,
+the horseshoer. It was his business to lead the world to eternal
+happiness; and he liked thick slices of bread and butter with cheese.
+
+Walter had never had religious things opened up to him so
+delightfully. He felt encouraged to speak:
+
+"M'neer, I would like to know who God is!"
+
+Father Jansen started, and looked at Walter as if he hadn't clearly
+understood the question.
+
+"Yes--that's very praiseworthy in you. You must----"
+
+"But, father," cried Mrs. Claus, "the child isn't in the church! Are
+you?"--to Walter.
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw, I have been confirmed."
+
+"To be sure, to be sure, but----"
+
+"On the Noordermarkt!"
+
+"Well, you see he's in the church all right."
+
+The good woman didn't have the heart--or else she had too much
+heart--to tell the father that it wasn't the right church.
+
+"Whoever wants to get acquainted with God," said Father Jansen,
+"must study diligently."
+
+"To be sure," said Mrs. Claus, "the articles of faith. You ought to
+hear my Femke repeat them. It's a pleasure, isn't it, father? She's
+my only child, but--she's a girl worth having!"
+
+"Yes, Femke is an excellent girl. I don't have any trouble with her."
+
+The father spoke in a business-like manner; and he meant it that
+way. The spots on Femke's soul were easily removed. He praised Femke
+as a cook would praise a kitchen-pot.
+
+Father Jansen had still more praise for Femke: she had patched his
+drawers so nicely.
+
+Oh, Fancy!
+
+The mention of this fact did not touch Walter's Êsthetic feelings. With
+him there were other considerations. Fancy was used to seeing
+everything nude--fathers, humanity--so there was no difficulty here.
+
+Walter was sixteen years old, already a little man--why must Femke
+patch drawers for this father!
+
+"Yes," said the mother. "Femke is clever at patching. If you've got
+anything else that needs mending, just send it over."
+
+Walter was warm. If it had been collars, socks, waistcoats, or--well,
+if it had to be something questionable--if it had only been trousers!
+
+"Just send it over, and if Femke isn't here----"
+
+"Where is she going to be?" thought Walter.
+
+"Then I will attend to it myself. I can do it neatly."
+
+Thank God! Dear, good, magnificent Mrs. Claus! Do it, do it yourself,
+and leave Femke where she is.
+
+But--where was she?
+
+Thus Walter's thoughts; but what did he say?--the hypocrite, the
+budding man.
+
+"Yes, indeed, Mrs. Claus, I had almost forgotten to ask where your
+daughter Femke is."
+
+"Femke? She's at my niece's, where the girl is sick. You know we're
+of good family. Femke is looking after my niece's children."
+
+Walter didn't have the courage to ask where this niece lived, so he
+assumed a look of contentment.
+
+After much waiting and twisting and turning on his chair, Walter
+finally left the house with Father Jansen. He had not yet learned
+how to end a visit: some people never learn it.
+
+"Don't you want to do me a favor?" said the good man. "Then walk on
+my right side. I'm deaf here"--pointing to his left ear.
+
+"I will tell you how it happened. When I was a little boy--are you
+a good climber?"
+
+"No, M'neer!"
+
+"Well, I am! In the whole of Vucht there wasn't a boy who could
+climb as well as I could. Do you know what I did once? I climbed up
+and slipped a flower-pot from a third-story window. And--my priest
+wasn't in a good humor at all! He didn't want to accept me till I had
+returned that flower-pot; and then I had to go and beg the old woman's
+pardon. And she herself went to the priest to intercede for me. Then
+he accepted me. But I got twenty 'confiteors'--oh, he was severe!
+
+"But I was going to tell you why I'm deaf in the left ear.
+
+"In one of the seminaries was a student--he's a canonicus in the Rhine
+country, and will get to be a cardinal, perhaps pope, for--he was
+very sly! I will tell you, his name was--Rake; but, you understand,
+his name was really something else. This Rake was a mean rascal; but he
+was never punished, because he was careful. See if he doesn't get to be
+a cardinal, or pope! You ought to hear him quote from the Vulgate. He
+could rattle away for three hours and never made a mistake." * * *
+
+"Are you perfectly crazy, boy, or what is the matter with you? Walking
+with a priest! What in the name of the Lord are you thinking about? Go
+in the house--quick! Jesu, what troubles I have with that child!"
+
+With these words Juffrouw Pieterse broke off Walter's acquaintance
+with Father Jansen for this time.
+
+The way that the father and Walter had taken led them directly by
+Walter's home. Juffrouw Pieterse, who was haggling with a Jew over the
+price of a basket of potatoes, narrowly escaped a stroke of apoplexy
+when she saw them together.
+
+"With a priest!--Stoffel! Come down quick--that boy is walking with
+a priest!"
+
+Tears rose in Walter's eyes. He had found Father Jansen a good man,
+and was grieved that that gentleman should meet with such a reception.
+
+It is to be hoped that those rude words were received by his left
+ear. In fact, this seemed to be the case, for when Walter said that
+he was at home now and that his mother was calling him, Father Jansen
+answered kindly:
+
+"So? You live there? Then I will tell you the next time why I am so
+deaf in my left ear--entirely deaf, you understand!"
+
+Thank God, Walter thought, and wiped away his tears. In his eyes his
+mother had committed a sin so grave that about fifty "confiteors"
+would be necessary for its expiation.
+
+"Oh, yes. I was going to tell you----"
+
+With these words Father Jansen turned around again. He continued:
+"The flower-pot of the old lady, Juffrouw Dungelaar, you know--it
+wasn't for the flowers, you understand, nor for the pot, but only
+because I could climb so well. Otherwise--one mustn't take anything
+away, even if it is so high up. Adieu, young man!"
+
+After giving Juffrouw Pieterse a friendly greeting that she did not
+deserve, the man continued on his way.
+
+Stoffel said that to walk with a priest was "simply preposterous."
+
+"As if he were crazy!" said Juffrouw Pieterse.
+
+"Yes," agreed Stoffel, "but it's because he has nothing to do but
+loaf around. If that keeps up, he will never amount to anything."
+
+True, Walter was loafing around; but he was not idle. His activities
+brought nothing palpable to light, still he was building up the inner
+life in a manner of which Stoffel had no idea.
+
+"Of course!" said the mother. "He must have work. If he were only
+willing to be a compositor! or an apprentice in the shoe-business. To
+make shoes--that he shall never do."
+
+"This running with priests comes only from idleness, mother. Do I
+run with priests? Never. Why not? Because I have to go to my school
+every day!"
+
+"Yes, Stoffel, you go to your school every day."
+
+"Besides, there are good priests. There was Luther, for instance. He
+was a sort of priest. What did he do?"
+
+"Yes, I know. He reformed the people."
+
+"He made them Lutherans, mother; but that's almost the same thing. One
+mustn't be narrow-minded."
+
+"That's what I say, Stoffel, people ought not to be so
+narrow-minded. What difference does it make what a person's religion
+is, just so he's upright, and not a Roman Catholic!"
+
+When Walter told Father Jansen that he "was in business," and that
+he was "going back to business," he spoke better than he himself
+knew. He did go back to business.
+
+Through a leather-dealer, who, speaking commercially, was in close
+touch with shoes that came from Paris, Walter got a position with a
+firm whose "responsibility" was somewhat less apocryphal than that of
+Messrs. Motto, Business & Co. He was to begin his new apprenticeship
+in the offices of Messrs. Ouwetyd & Kopperlith, a firm of world-wide
+reputation.
+
+However, before he was to enter upon his new duties, all sorts of
+things were destined to happen, with the tendency to make Walter
+appear as a "hero of romance," which he wasn't at all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+It was Thursday. Stoffel came home with the important news that the
+king--I don't know what king--had arrived in the city unexpectedly
+and would visit the theatre that evening. Everything and everybody
+was in a commotion; for in republican countries much importance is
+given to pomp and title.
+
+This time curiosity was more wrought up than usual. Many foreign
+princes, including an emperor, were visiting the king; and these
+distinguished personages would follow the court to Amsterdam, coming
+from The Hague, Utrecht and Haarlem. To put it tamely, it was to be
+a great occasion.
+
+That republican populace was to get to see the countenance and
+coat-tails not only of their tyrant, but also the countenances and
+coat-tails of many other tyrants, not to mention female tyrants.
+
+The old doughnut women on the "Dam," which the city rented to them as
+a market-place, were threatening to bring suit against the city. They
+felt that it was hard to have to pay rent for the fresh air, day after
+day, with the prospect of selling a few doughnuts to the youth of
+the street, and now be run out because his majesty wanted to exhibit
+himself to the people from the balcony of the old City Hall.
+
+Why shouldn't the old women be seen at their accustomed places? Must
+the doughnut industry be carried on secretly? Was it for fear of
+imitations and unprincely competition? Or was it to keep the old
+women from seeing the king?
+
+At any rate, the whole kit of them had to leave. At most, they could
+only mix with the crowd incognito, and afterwards might join in
+the prearranged "Long live the King!" or somebody else, as the case
+might be.
+
+It is really remarkable that princes die. Seemingly the "vivats"
+are of no avail.
+
+The crowd was especially large, on account of the many majesties and
+highnesses who had gathered about the tyrant.
+
+Among the number was the Prince of Caramania, who had especial claims
+upon the sympathy of the people, so all the newspapers said. One of
+his ancestors had been a captain in the service of the state and had,
+therefore, spilt his blood for the freedom of the Netherlands.
+
+This blood, and perhaps the freedom as well, was newspaper
+arabesque. It was certain, however, that the prince wore a green
+coat with gold frogs; and upon his head he had a big plume. It was,
+therefore, quite proper for the crowd to cry occasionally "Long live
+the Prince of Caramania!"
+
+Among the eminent gentlemen was a certain duke, who, by reason of his
+virtues, had got himself banished from his country. The man was thrifty
+and economical, though without neglecting himself. Nevertheless,
+the rabble had dethroned him and sent him across the border with a
+bushel of diamonds. Of these diamonds he was now to display a few
+dozen in the shape of coat-buttons and the like. The newspapers gave
+the crowd their cue accordingly. They were to cry: "Long live the
+Duke with his diamonds!"
+
+Princess Erika was the niece of the king, and was to marry the
+crown-prince of a great empire, which was indebted to the Netherlands
+for its prominence. The newspapers gave the assurance that this empire
+would pay off the national debt of the Netherlands if the people
+would only put enough enthusiasm into a "Long live Princess Erika!"
+
+The old Countess-palatine of Aetolia was descended directly from
+a certain knight who treated his hostlers like princes. In this
+case it was not inappropriate for a republican populace to ask for
+a prolongation of her ladyship's life. The cry was: "Long live the
+Countess-palatine of Aetolia!"
+
+The Grand-duke of Ysland was the handsome grandson of a shopman. His
+merits would fill three columns of fine print. The man was a master
+of the type-case himself, and by exerting himself could even set up
+his own name. The newspapers said that having safely passed an ocean
+of pitfalls, he had now perfected himself as the brother-in-law of
+a demi-god. Therefore, whoever had the interest of his country at
+heart could not afford to fail to bellow at the top of his voice:
+"Long live the Grand-duke of Ysland!"
+
+There were still more potentates and ladies of quality who had honored
+Amsterdam with a visit. They had heard that the city was la VÈnise
+du Nord, that it was tres interessant, tres interessant! etc.
+
+And the Holland herrings! DÈlicieux! Unfortunately the Netherlanders
+didn't know how to cook them; they must be baked.
+
+And the Holland school of painting! Rambr‡nn--magnifique!
+
+There were still other good things in Holland, as their highnesses
+testified with patronizing kindness.
+
+"Il parait qu'un certain WondËle a Ècrit des choses, des choses--mais
+des choses--passablement bien!"
+
+And the dikes! And the Katwyk sluice--gigantesque!
+
+Whatever spare time they might have after making cheese and cooking
+herrings, the Holland people liked to devote to fighting the
+elements. After skating and racing this was the favorite recreation
+of the nation.
+
+I can assure the reader that the aristocratic party took their
+departure thoroughly satisfied with our country. The only person who
+received quite a different impression--but I will not anticipate the
+feelings of our hero. Even a writer has his duties.
+
+The first evening everything was to be illuminated. Two hundred
+and fifty thousand candles were to proclaim the enthusiasm of the
+people. Two hundred and fifty thousand fiery tongues were to cry:
+"Hosanna! Blessed be he who comes in the name of----" In whose
+name? Hosanna for whom? For what?
+
+Well, that was a matter of indifference to the people. They knew
+that there was something doing, that there was a crowd, and that
+was enough. People are somewhat like children, who amuse themselves
+immensely in the confusion of a "moving," of a death, or of anything
+that causes commotion and excitement.
+
+Walter had got permission to see the illumination. Unconsciously
+he assumed that stupid expression which is obligatory on such
+occasions. He listened to the conversation of those about him.
+
+"That's what I call illuminating! Nine candles for such a big house!"
+
+"Twelve!" cried another.
+
+"No, nine."
+
+"Twelve!"
+
+"Nine!"
+
+"Three--three--three--and three. Look there are twelve, or I can't
+count."
+
+"No, the three above don't count. That story is rented. I know it."
+
+"Well--if you mean it that way. I only said that four times three
+are twelve. What do you say, Hannes?"
+
+Hannes found the calculation correct.
+
+"How long will the candles burn?"
+
+"Till about one o'clock, I suppose."
+
+"I don't believe it!"
+
+"Well, I do!"
+
+"But I don't!----"
+
+"Have you been in the Sukkelgracht?"
+
+"Oh, it isn't pretty there."
+
+"You think so? Prettier than here."
+
+"Oh, no!"
+
+"Yes, it is!----"
+
+"Look there; there's a verse."
+
+"Yes, a verse. Can you read it?"
+
+"Certainly! Let me see, what is it?"
+
+"I can read it, too."
+
+"It's about 'illustrious blood'----"
+
+"Yes, and 'our country,' and 'dedicated to honor and virtue.'"
+
+"And 'his illustrious blood'----"
+
+"No, there it stands--'torn from the barbarians'----"
+
+"That comes later. 'Illustrious blood'----"
+
+"Of Holland's hero----"
+
+"Welcome, hero!"
+
+"I wonder if the king looks at the candles. Do you suppose he reads
+such verses and copies them?"
+
+"Oh, he has his ministers for that."
+
+"Or generals. He has seen or read about lots of nice things."
+
+"As nice as here?"
+
+"Why, of course!"
+
+"I don't believe it."
+
+"Well, I do."
+
+"Do you know what I think? He likes to look at the lights too."
+
+"You think so?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"No, you don't believe that."
+
+"Don't crowd so!"
+
+"I can't help it. They're crowding me."
+
+"The people are pushing and shoving as if they were crazy."
+
+"Did you ever see the like? You know what I think? Kalver Street
+ought to be as wide again as it is."
+
+"Yes, as wide again. The street's too narrow."
+
+"That's why everybody's scroudging so."
+
+There was much truth in this. Pressure was high. People were mashed
+and squeezed together. Those who, by reason of a lack of avoirdupois,
+were less firmly attached to the ground, were lifted bodily. Walter
+hung suspended in mid-air and looked over the heads of men much taller
+than he.
+
+"Are you walking on stilts?" asked a big fat woman, whose hips had
+come into collision with Walter's knees. "Well, that's something."
+
+The pressure was increasing. It seemed that the fat woman would soon
+have Walter on her shoulder, like a gun; while Walter was thinking
+that soon he would be roaming over the country like a knight. No one
+was looking at the candles now. People were finding their amusement
+in crowding and being crowded.
+
+No, Kalver Street ought not to be widened. For, properly understood,
+this crowding and pushing and shoving was the nicest part of the
+whole business.
+
+How tedious it would have been quietly to watch those two hundred
+and fifty thousand candles from some comfortable position.
+
+Our little man lay on the heads and shoulders of his brothers. Like
+some aspirants to a throne, he threw himself upon the masses. But he
+was beginning to feel generally uncomfortable. He wanted to hold on
+fast to something, or somebody--to somebody's ears, or nose. That,
+however, did not suit the masses. They didn't mind being squeezed;
+but they didn't like to be held on to.
+
+Crash!
+
+Don't let the reader be alarmed. Walter had not burst under the strain;
+but the pressure of the crowd had broken in the double doors of a
+cafÈ! The irruption was terrible. The way the crowd streamed in might
+be compared to the flow of molten lava. Walter described a parabolic
+curve and landed on a table, without suffering any damage.
+
+"Walter Pieterse!" cried the astonished party sitting around the table.
+
+"Have you hurt yourself, Walter?"
+
+No, he hadn't hurt himself; but he was rigid with surprise. Firstly,
+over his ascent; secondly, over his aÎrial journey; then over his
+descent among all kinds of glassware; and, finally--and that was not
+the least surprising thing--he was surprised to find himself all at
+once in the bosom of the Holsma family.
+
+It was Sietske who asked him if he was hurt.
+
+All the glasses, both great and small, were broken; but Walter was
+still in one piece. Uncle Sybrand helped him to his feet. It wasn't
+easy, for the press was great. However, Walter's size facilitated
+matters.
+
+The proprietor couldn't reach the scene of action, but he was able
+to make his voice heard to the effect that everything broken must be
+paid for. From other tables came the noise of more breaking glass. The
+man was desperate. He cursed kings and masses indiscriminately.
+
+"One bottle of wine, three lemonades, six glasses!" cried Holsma,
+assuming the responsibility for Walter's unintentional work of
+destruction.
+
+Uncle Sybrand was holding up the money to pay for everything.
+
+"Oh, M'neer, I'm afraid to go home after this," cried Walter. "How
+can I pay for that? And my mother----"
+
+In the noise and jumble Holsma did not understand; but Sietske
+understood.
+
+"Sh!" she whispered. "Papa will pay for it all. Besides, I have money;
+and William, too; and Hermann. Just be quiet."
+
+Walter still did not understand. When, under the protection of the
+Holsmas, he was safe on the outside again, and the entire party had
+escaped the mob by taking a side street, he reiterated that he did
+dare show his face to his mother and Stoffel.
+
+"It doesn't make any difference about the money," said Holsma. "I
+will attend to that. Why, boy, you're scared half to death. You're
+shaking. Come along home with us where you can rest a bit and quiet
+yourself."
+
+The distance, however, proved too short to have the desired quieting
+effect on Walter.
+
+"My mother will be angry when I come home late."
+
+Holsma told him that a messenger should be sent to his mother at once,
+so that she would know where he was.
+
+The doctor gave him a sedative and led him into a room adjoining that
+in which the Holsma family were sitting. Walter was to walk up and
+down the room till he felt better; but he soon got tired of this and
+did the very thing that he was not to do; he sat down on a sofa and
+fell asleep.
+
+Whether, in general, it is a good thing to keep in motion after a
+fright--that I do not know. Walter, on the contrary, always felt the
+need of sleep under such circumstances; and this remedy, with which
+nature provided him, usually restored his mental equilibrium. Perhaps,
+after all, it wasn't real sleep: he merely dreamed.
+
+Again he was lifted up, higher and higher, borne by strong hands. A
+man bit him in the hand. The fact was he had scratched his hand on
+a refractory horsehair, which had become tired of acting as stuffing
+for a sofa-pillow.
+
+An angry woman assailed him with abuse. Stupid? Not stupid? We, the
+masses? She let him fall. But he fell in Sietske's lap; and there
+wasn't a single sliver of glassware.
+
+He was happy--but the horsehair scratched him again. Then he heard
+a voice. Was he still dreaming? Yes, dreaming again of soaring and
+falling. There was Femke.
+
+Of course there had to be something about her in his dream, and about
+bleaching the clothes. Father Jansen was there, too, exhibiting to
+the stars the particular garment that Femke had patched. Orion and
+the Great Bear admired this specimen of her handiwork. Walter did not.
+
+"Did you do it yourself?" he heard Sietske asking in the next room. "Or
+couldn't you get through the crowd?"
+
+"No, it was impossible to get through such a mob. I turned it over
+to the man with the peddler's wagon."
+
+What was that? Walter sat up. Father Jansen was gone; Orion, too;
+and the clouds, and the "masses"; but--that voice!
+
+He heard it again.
+
+"I know him very well--oh, so well! He's a good boy." This he heard
+Femke say!
+
+He jumped up and ran into the room where the Holsmas were. He saw
+a triangular piece of a woman's dress disappear through the door;
+then the door closed.
+
+He didn't have the courage--or was something else beside courage
+necessary to ask, "Is that Femke?"
+
+On his way home that evening Walter did not suffer in the least
+from the sensation of being borne through the air; or from anything
+similar. He was on the earth, very much on the earth. He felt lowly.
+
+If he had only seen that bit of Femke's dress somewhere else, and
+not at the Holsmas--not in that swell family; not in the company
+of Sietske, who had so much money in her "savings-bank," nor in the
+presence of the vain William, who was studying Latin!
+
+He was brave enough to feel ashamed of himself; and that's all I can
+say in his favor.
+
+Let us now look at things from the point of view of Juffrouw
+Pieterse. That lady was in the clouds. She was hoping that the
+messenger who had brought her news of Walter had not been able to
+find her flat at once. The idea of someone from Dr. Holsma's asking
+for her through the neighborhood was decidedly pleasant. The longer
+he might have had to inquire for her the better!
+
+"Of course he was at the grocer's," she said. "Such messengers
+never know where they have to go. Of course he told that the 'young
+gentleman' was staying at Dr. Holsma's! And such a man always
+tattles; such people don't do anything but tattle. But, as far as
+I'm concerned, everybody can know it. I only mean that such people
+like to tattle. But--say, Walter, how did it happen that you went
+with the family? You're a nice rascal. Stoffel, what do you say?"
+
+Stoffel made a serious face--as much as to say: "Hm! I'll have to
+think over it. He's been up to something."
+
+"I met the Holsma family in Kalver Street," Walter said. He told
+the truth; he had met the family in Kalver Street. But why didn't he
+tell anything about the extraordinary circumstances under which he
+met them? Ah--there's the rub!
+
+"Your back is so sticky!" complained Pietro, whose care it was to
+look after the washing.
+
+The family rubbed, and felt, and smelt; and then they declared
+unanimously that Walter's back had been guilty of absorbing all kinds
+of sticky gases and liquids.
+
+"Really, it smells like lemon," said Trudie.
+
+"And like wine!"
+
+"And it's just coated with sugar. Boy, where have you been? Don't
+you have any sense of shame? To go to visit such swell people with
+lemon and sugar on your back! It's a disgrace, a disgrace."
+
+"There was such a crowd on the street."
+
+"That don't explain the wine on your back--nor the lemon--nor the
+sugar. What say you, Trudie?"
+
+There was complete unanimity. Timid, as usual, Walter didn't have the
+courage to tell everything. Nor would this have done any good. The
+understanding of the Pieterse family was like a rusty lock that no key
+will open. Walter knew this, and remembering former sad experiences,
+allowed the storm to rage above his head. Unfortunately he, too,
+in a sense, was rusty. His nobility of character had suffered; he
+had been guilty of cowardice.
+
+He felt it. No minister could pray it away. Not even God himself
+could revoke it. Everyone must act according to his conviction,
+Mevrouw Holsma had said. He had not done this.
+
+A dog would have kissed the hem of Femke's garment, meeting her after
+such a long separation. For it was she. Certainly it was Femke--or----
+
+Oh, he was hunting for or's!
+
+Could it have been somebody else? It must have been somebody else. How
+could Femke be at Dr. Holsma's?
+
+No, no, it was she! Didn't she say that she knew me? Didn't she speak
+with the same voice that I heard when she called me a dear boy and
+gave me the kiss at the bridge?
+
+She didn't know then what a coward I am! She wouldn't deny me and
+betray me. She would say to everybody: That is Walter, my little
+friend that I kissed that time, because he was so brave in fighting
+off those boys!
+
+And I? Oh, help me God!
+
+No, God has nothing to do with it. I am a coward. I can't live
+this way.
+
+He thought of suicide; and in this mood he spent that Thursday
+night. He arose Friday morning with the firm determination to put an
+end to his unworthy existence.
+
+Fortunately, just after breakfast he was put to work on a job that
+is calculated to reconcile one with life.
+
+He had been tried and convicted, the verdict being unanimous. The
+penalty was that he should wash his jacket till it was clean. He
+entered upon the task with such enthusiasm that in an hour he was
+running to his mother crying triumphantly:
+
+"Look, mother! You can't see a trace of it now!"
+
+This little conquest dispelled all the clouds that had darkened
+his life.
+
+There are plenty of people who would gladly fall into a barrel of
+lemonade if they only understood the salutary effects of cleaning
+a coat.
+
+The poor unfortunate who has never washed his own clothes does not
+know what life is.
+
+I will ask her pardon, thought Walter; and he pictured it all
+to himself, wondering whether it would do for him to fall at her
+feet at Holsma's, in the presence of the one who had delivered the
+message. Finally, however, he quieted himself with the thought that
+Femke would probably not be at the doctor's very long. He hoped to be
+able then to settle the matter quietly, when only the two concerned
+were present. This was not courageous, to be sure; but his punishment
+was already on the way.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+The events of an eventful Friday were at an end, as it seemed; and
+Walter prepared to climb into the narrow bedstead, which he shared with
+his brother Laurens. He was now in a tranquil frame of mind. He didn't
+even have any desire to romp with Laurens, who, without laying claim to
+geometrical knowledge, usually managed to find the diagonal of the bed.
+
+It was Walter's intention to think over recent events again. He wished
+to busy himself with others; he was tired of himself--at least he
+thought so for a moment.
+
+There was a prince, who distributed money among the people. Oh,
+if I were only a prince!
+
+That wasn't a bad thought. Under the same circumstances, most people
+would have thought: Oh, if I could only have got some of the money!
+
+The countess-palatine from--where from? Well it makes no
+difference. She was in the museum and the papers said she was gracious,
+very gracious.
+
+I would do it too, thought Walter, if I were a countess-palatine. What
+sort of a profession is that?
+
+The king had given audiences--and a dinner--and had said--well, the
+usual things. But for Walter it was new and interesting. The welfare of
+the city seemed to lie heavily on his majesty's heart. It lay heavily
+on Walter's heart, too; but that did not prevent Walter from admiring
+this peculiarity of the king. In Africa he would do the same thing.
+
+No, away with Africa!
+
+He threw off his left stocking so violently that it curled around
+the leg of the chair like a dying earthworm.
+
+What strange things he had heard of Princess Erika! It was said that
+she was to have married a grand-duke, but rejected him.
+
+The middle classes were delighted with this news; though not knowing
+but that it might merely have been stubbornness on the part of the
+princess.
+
+She was of such a strange nature that she did not know how to behave
+herself in her high position.
+
+Walter slipped off his other stocking, finding fault with the princess
+for disregarding the usual customs and conventions. Hm! He wondered
+if she would like to change places with him, and let him be Prince
+Erich--and she----
+
+He wondered if she too wore an ugly nightcap. But--no! Princesses
+would wear caps of diamonds.
+
+Princess Erika!
+
+Walter blew out the light--no, he was on the point of blowing it
+out. He had selected one of the triangles that Laurens had described
+in the bed, when suddenly he became aware of a great tumult in the
+Pieterse home.
+
+Yes, somebody had rung violently three or four times and was still
+banging at the door. Fire?
+
+Hm! Could it be Princess Erika, he thought, who was coming to change
+places with him?
+
+Alas, it was only Juffrouw Laps; and she did not come to exchange.
+
+Well, what did she want then, so late in the evening?
+
+Walter pulled himself together and listened.
+
+The compartment where Walter and Laurens slept was a boxed-up
+arrangement over the sitting-room. Two of their sisters shared the
+space with them. From considerations of modesty, therefore, the boys
+always had to get sleepy a quarter of an hour before the young ladies.
+
+The writer is unable to say how much oxygen four young people need
+during eight hours without suffocating; but anyway there wasn't much
+room in this little nook.
+
+In another closet-affair there was a similar division, and here, too,
+the hour for retiring was determined by similar laws of modesty.
+
+The reader will now understand why a part of the family, the female
+part of course, was still in the sitting-room when Walter imagined
+that Princess Erika had come to exchange places with him.
+
+Juffrouw Laps, who had rushed up the steps like a crazy woman, burst
+into the room weeping and moaning and sobbing.
+
+The usual cries of, "What on earth is the matter?" "Lord 'a'
+mercy--what has happened?" were forthcoming. Walter noticed, too, that
+the customary glass of water was offered and drunk, and that proper
+efforts were being made to get the unhappy one to "calm herself."
+
+Juffrouw Laps began her story with the positive assurance that it
+was impossible for her to utter a word.
+
+It seemed, therefore, that the affair was something important. Walter
+pulled on one of his stockings and prepared to listen.
+
+"I swear, Juffrouw Pieterse, by the omnipotent God, that I'm so
+frightened and excited that I can't talk."
+
+"Goodness!"
+
+"Where are your children? In bed? Not all of them, I hope. Really,
+I can't speak. Give me another glass of water, Trudie. Listen, how
+my teeth are chattering. That comes from fright, doesn't it? I'm in
+a tremble all over. Thank you, Trudie. Where's--Stoffel?"
+
+"He's undressing," said Juffrouw Pieterse. "He goes to bed before
+me and Pietro. Mina makes so much noise, you know; and Trudie must
+stay with the boys to keep them from fighting. That's why I sleep
+with Pietro, you see. Stoffel undresses himself, and then he draws
+the curtain when he hears us on the steps. But why----"
+
+"How that concerns me, you mean? To be sure. I'm just beside myself
+from fright! And is--Laurens in bed too?"
+
+"Of course! A long time already. He has to go to the printing-house
+early."
+
+"All in bed! And I--I run through the streets, wretched, crazy,
+and don't know what to do. Is everybody in bed?--everybody?"
+
+"But what has happened?"
+
+"I'm going to tell you, Juffrouw Pieterse. Oh, if you only knew how
+frightened I am!"
+
+Consideration of acoustics now led Walter to put on his other stocking.
+
+"You know, Juffrouw Pieterse, that of late so much stealing has been
+going on."
+
+"Yes, but----"
+
+"And burglary and murder! And the police can't catch anybody. You know
+the old woman and the servant-girl who were murdered in Lommer Street."
+
+"But three are already behind the bars for it. What more do you want?"
+
+"That's all right; the murderers are running around scot-free. They've
+locked up three fellows just to keep the people from thinking too
+much. They don't want anybody to ask, 'What are the police for?' You
+see what I mean? I tell you that such a low-down rascal, who commits
+a murder and steals lots of money, cannot hide his bloody clothes;
+nor the money, either. He's not used to having so much money. All
+the neighbors know his coat and breeches; and such a man hasn't any
+trunk where he can hide his things. He doesn't know how to manage with
+drafts and notes; and he don't know enough to get away to a foreign
+country. As for friends to help him get rid of the stolen things,
+he hasn't any. I tell you, Juffrouw Pieterse, a murder or a robbery,
+when they don't catch the murderer right away--then some respectable
+person has done it, who has more clothes and boxes and presses and
+linen--and he has friends among bankers. A common fellow would stick
+a hundred thousand florins in the bread-box, and the children would
+find it when they went to slip a slice of bread and butter. What do
+you say, Trudie?"
+
+Trudie was not versed in criminal statistics and had never reflected
+on the matter. At least Walter heard no answer. Curiosity compelled
+him to draw on his trousers.
+
+"But," he heard his mother saying again, "what has happened to you?"
+
+"What has happened? I am beside myself. Don't you see how I'm
+trembling? The city is full of murderers!"
+
+"My goodness! How can I help it?"
+
+"You can't. But I am beside myself, and I want to ask your advice. Do
+they all go to bed so early?--Stoffel--and Laurens--all of them? Look,
+how I'm shaking. Do you suppose I dare go back to my room?"
+
+"Why not? Do you think you're going to be murdered?"
+
+"Yes. I do think it! The murderers of that old woman and of the
+servant-girl are still on the war-path. Yesterday at the illumination
+how many watches did they steal? And the police--what do they
+do? Nothing, nothing! Yes, they watch you to see if you beat a rug
+in the morning after ten o'clock. That's what the police do. They
+don't bother murderers."
+
+"What do you know about the murderers? It's your duty to report them
+if you know them."
+
+Walter put on his vest and wrapped his muffler around his neck.
+
+"What I know about them! They are besieging me in my own house. Isn't
+that pretty rough? I went out at noon to see the boat race on the
+Amstel; but there was nothing to see, because there was no wind. And
+such a crowd! All the kings were there, and the visiting princes
+and princesses, you know; and everybody stared at the carriages,
+and I did too. Not that I care anything about a king. Goodness,
+no! For he is only a worm in God's hand, and when the Master doesn't
+aid him--all is vanity, vanity. Dust and ashes--that's all. But I
+looked at the carriages, you know, and at the horses, and at the
+staring crowd. I thought to myself, I will fry the potatoes when I
+go home. They had been left over from dinner; and when there are any
+potatoes left over, you know, I always fry them for supper. There was
+a big crowd, and all were mad because there was no wind; for people
+are foolish about pleasure and never think of the Master. Worldly,
+worldly, they were--and the princes and princesses. I thought, well,
+it's no wonder that there's so much robbery and murder; for they try
+God's patience. I thought, God will punish you; He's only abiding
+His time. He always does it, Juffrouw Pieterse! A lady--the creature
+had red pimples on her face, and was older than you--what do you
+suppose she had on her head? A turban! She rode in a carriage with
+four horses. What do you think of that? She was playing with a fan;
+and, when a prince rode up to her carriage, she stuck out her hand
+and let the fan go up and down three times. And the prince did that
+way three times. Were they crazy, or not? What will the Master say
+to that? If He only doesn't send a pestilence on us!"
+
+"Yes, but the murderers--what did they do to you?"
+
+"Why, certainly--what they did? I am going to tell you. I'm still
+trembling. I had sliced my potatoes, put them on a saucer and set
+them away in the cupboard. Then I thought, I will fry them when I come
+home; for I didn't expect to stay long in the crowd, for I have been
+saved by grace and don't care for worldly things--ah, dear Juffrouw
+Pieterse, you must call Stoffel, so he can hear what has happened."
+
+Stoffel was already on his way down; and Walter was glad of it. Walter
+had heard the noise Stoffel was making putting on his clothes in the
+adjoining booth, and upon this he builded hopes that he too might
+be allowed to go down, where he could hear the exciting story better
+than was possible through the cracks in the floor. In the meantime he
+had completely dressed himself. The noises below told him of Stoffel's
+arrival in the sitting-room. He heard the usual greetings and Juffrouw
+Laps's solemn assurance that she was still in such a tremble that
+she couldn't say a word. Then he heard her ask immediately where
+Laurens was.
+
+Laurens? Well, he was asleep.
+
+That youth's absence seemed to trouble the visitor. She couldn't
+proceed. Was it really necessary for Laurens to be present?
+
+"What do you say, Stoffel? Isn't the city full of thieves and
+murderers?"
+
+Stoffel drew in his upper lip and tried to make the lower one touch
+his nose. Let the reader try the same; then he will know how Stoffel
+answered, and what his answer meant.
+
+Juffrouw Laps pretended to believe that he had said "yes."
+
+"Don't you see, Stoffel says so too! The city is full of thieves and
+murderers, and--a respectable person is afraid to go to bed alone
+any more. It's just that way."
+
+"But--Juffrouw!"
+
+"The police? Nonsense! What good do the police do, when people
+don't believe in God? That's the truth. Whoever doesn't do that is
+lost. Human help--I cannot understand at all why Laurens goes to bed so
+early. You surely know that so much sleep isn't good for anybody. What
+does the Bible say? Watch and pray! But--everyone according to his
+notion. I swear before God that I don't dare to go home alone and----"
+
+Walter's curiosity was at high tension. In order to hear better he
+was leaning over, supporting himself with the chair. The point of
+support was unsteady. The chair slipped and rattled across the floor,
+crashing into another piece of furniture.
+
+"Heaven and earth! What are they up to now," groaned the
+mother. "Laurens, is that you?"
+
+Walter peeped in, "It was me." The result was that he was soon in the
+midst of the interesting conversation that he had been trying to hear
+from above.
+
+His entrance took place under unfavorable circumstances. He was blamed
+for not having been undressed.
+
+"Do you always put on your nightcap before you undress?" cried
+the mother.
+
+The boy had actually forgotten to take off his nightcap. He was so
+ashamed that he felt he would like to fall through the floor. He
+would rather have neglected anything else.
+
+"And--what have you there?"
+
+Alas, our hero looked more ridiculous than anyone could look by simply
+putting on a nightcap. He had armed himself with an old rusty knife
+that his father had used in prehistoric times for cutting leather!
+
+During the whole of the Laps recital, which progressed so slowly,
+he had thought and hoped and intended--yes, he heard something that
+sounded like, "Where is Walter?" The speaker really did not say it--no,
+on the contrary, those were the very words she wished to avoid--still,
+he thought he heard her say them. On this Friday he had acted mean
+and cowardly; but he was still Walter.
+
+Murderers? Thieves? A lady in danger? What other answer could there
+be but: "I am here, I, Walter!"
+
+Oh, fate, why did you put that sword in his hand and let him forget
+to remove that nightcap? Why didn't you divide these two absurdities
+between Stoffel and Walter! Or why couldn't you put that feathery
+diadem on the head of the sleeping Laurens? It would have been all
+the same to him how he looked in his sleep.
+
+Walter was in a rage.
+
+And I am, too. Towards Femke his chivalry had remained in the
+background; and now it must burst forth at a doubtful call from
+Juffrouw Laps!
+
+In his anger he threw the weapon down violently and allowed it to
+rebound across the room. He slapped the nightcap on the table.
+
+No one would have thought that the little man could be so vehement. His
+mother, with her usual solicitousness, inquired into the condition
+of his mind, asking if he was only cracked, or downright crazy.
+
+"I tell you," said the visitor, "you ought not to worry that child
+so much."
+
+"Go to bed at once!" cried the mother.
+
+"Why can't you let the child stay here? But--oh, yes! I was going to
+tell you about my potatoes."
+
+Walter stayed. For this privilege he was indebted to the general
+curiosity.
+
+"Just imagine, when I came home about half past ten o'clock--I couldn't
+get away earlier on account of the crush, you know. Don't you know,
+I don't care for these big occasions. Well, when I got home--the city
+is full of thieves, murderers, and that must not be forgotten--well,
+my potatoes were--what do you think my potatoes were? They were--gone!"
+
+"Gone?"
+
+"Gone!"
+
+"All gone?"
+
+"All gone!"
+
+"Your potatoes--gone?"
+
+"My potatoes--all completely gone!"
+
+"But----"
+
+"I tell you those thieves and murderers did it. Who else could have
+done it? Thieves and murderers in my house! And I wanted to ask
+you--for I'm afraid in my room----"
+
+Walter's eyes fairly shone.
+
+"I wanted to ask, if perhaps--your son Stoffel----"
+
+Stoffel's face was a study, a curiosity. If the said thieves and
+murderers could have seen it they would have been greatly pleased,
+for it bore evidence of Stoffel's intention to leave them undisturbed
+in their work.
+
+"But, Juffrouw," he said, "haven't you a cat in your room?"
+
+"A cat? A cat to fight murderers with!"
+
+"No, Juffrouw, not to fight murderers; but a cat that might have
+eaten the potatoes."
+
+"I don't know anything about a cat. I only know that the city is
+full of low-down people when so many murders are committed and no one
+tries to catch the murderers. Not that I am anxious about my life--no,
+not at all. When the Master calls me I shall say, 'Let thy daughter
+go in peace; my eyes have seen thy glory.'"
+
+"But, woman, why didn't you look in your closet, and under the bed?"
+
+"I didn't want to do that, Juffrouw Pieterse! The Lord will take care
+of me--but one must not try the Lord's patience. I would not go in the
+closet, or look under the bed--not for everything in the world! For of
+course he's there, and that's why I wanted to ask if your son--Stoffel,
+or, if Stoffel doesn't want to, if perhaps your son--Laurens, or----"
+
+"But, Juffrouw, why didn't you call the neighbors?"
+
+Thus spoke Stoffel.
+
+"The neighbors? Well, I guess they know about it. The man who lives
+under me is afraid of a poodle-dog, not to mention a murderer. There's
+a man living next to me; but, you know, he is--what shall I say--he
+is a sort of bachelor, and I don't want to get talked about. You
+know a woman must always think of her reputation, and not get mixed
+up in gossip."
+
+It did not occur to anyone to ask what sort of a creature Stoffel
+was. Was he a bachelor? Or did his position as a teacher protect him
+against any worldly suspicion?
+
+"And, besides," continued the seductive Laps, "do you think all
+men have courage? No! They're as afraid of a thief as they are of
+death. Last week an insolent beggar was on the steps, and the fellow
+wouldn't leave. Do you think the men did anything to him? Scared to
+death! But, I tell you, I got hold of him in a hurry and----"
+
+She had gone too far, and she saw it.
+
+"Well, I would have done that if I hadn't been a woman; for a woman
+must never use violence. It isn't becoming. What do you say, Trudie? I
+ran and shut my door. Wasn't that right? No, none of the men-folk
+has any courage!"
+
+None of the men-folk! Walter felt insulted. He was swelling with
+suppressed courage; he was eager for a fray. At least, he was eager to
+show that he was an exception to Juffrouw Laps's general indictment. Of
+course Juffrouw Laps noticed this.
+
+"Well, if Stoffel doesn't want to----"
+
+"To tell the truth, I----"
+
+"And if Laurens is already asleep--and if--if no one else will----"
+
+She arose.
+
+"Then I suppose I must, relying upon God, go alone. But it's horrible
+for a woman to be entirely alone!"
+
+She looked at them all in turn, all except the one she was talking
+to. Walter felt that he was being forgotten, or overlooked. This only
+increased his latent courage and made him burn with a desire to be
+numbered with the knighthood of the house.
+
+"Yes, if there's nobody here who's not afraid----"
+
+"I'm not afraid!"
+
+All but Juffrouw Laps were surprised. She was a good psychologist,
+and had not expected anything else. It was her part, however, to
+pretend to be as much surprised as any of the rest.
+
+"You?"
+
+"You, Walter?"
+
+"Boy, are you crazy? You?"
+
+"Yes, I. I'm not afraid; not if there were ten in the closet and a
+hundred under the bed!"
+
+A little Luther! But with a difference. Luther had a God in whom
+he felt he could trust--reinforced by a few grand-dukes. Walter,
+without any grand-dukes, was ready to enter the field against a God
+who was allowing any number of murderers to take shelter under the
+roof and bed of Juffrouw Laps.
+
+"Boy!"
+
+"I'll risk it."
+
+"Let him go, Juffrouw Pieterse. You understand--it's company for me
+to have such a child with me. Then I'm not frightened so badly, if a
+murderer is in the closet. Nobody wants to be entirely alone. Isn't
+that so?"
+
+Juffrouw Laps gained her point: Walter was permitted to go with her.
+
+It was principally their vanity that caused the Pieterses to consent
+so readily to Juffrouw Laps's request and allow her to take Walter
+away to act as her castellan. Not one of them felt that it was a
+good thing for Walter to go with the Juffrouw; but they were all
+proud of his courage. The story would get noised abroad, and people
+would pass it on to their friends. Juffrouw Pieterse would see to
+it that the people knew it was "the same young gentlemen, you know,
+that went home with Dr. Holsma."
+
+Yes, and then people would say: "There's something in those Pieterse
+children."
+
+Mothers like to hear such things.
+
+With his package under his arm Walter marched away with Juffrouw
+Laps to do battle for that pious lady. That prehistoric weapon he
+left behind, on her assuring him that she had a well-filled store
+of weapons and ammunition enough to kill all the murderers that he
+would have occasion to contend with.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+Walter shuddered as he crossed Juffrouw Laps's threshold. He reflected,
+and wondered how he could have entered upon this knightly expedition
+without considering certain details connected with it and inseparable
+from it.
+
+The first thing she offered him, of course, was the fried potatoes,
+that dainty dish which the murderers had greedily made away with!
+
+Walter was beginning to feel that the game wasn't worth the candle. The
+adventure didn't offer sufficient outlet for his chivalry. In fact,
+he thought something other than chivalry was necessary to face
+single-handed and alone those fried potatoes and Juffrouw Laps's
+persistent attentions.
+
+"Make yourself at home and eat all you want. Don't be a bit
+embarrassed. Or would you rather take off your coat first? You know,
+you're to stay all night with me."
+
+Walter preferred to keep on his coat for the present.
+
+"And I have a dram for you, too, my boy--something extra. It's
+from Fockink's. You know where he has his distillery, there in that
+narrow street. You must never pass along there. Bad women live in
+that street. They stand at the doors and windows, don't you know;
+and that isn't good for a bachelor like you."
+
+Walter, the "bachelor," looked surprised. He was abashed; though he
+was not displeased. This promotion was more flattering than going into
+"business."
+
+Still, he was embarrassed. Juffrouw Laps found it desirable, therefore,
+to continue along this line.
+
+"Certainly, Walter, you're a bachelor. Don't you know that? It's only
+because at home they treat you like a child. I tell you, you're a
+bachelor, just as much so as anybody else. Do you think I like Stoffel
+as well as I do you? No, no, no! Not a bit of it! I like you lots
+better. Don't you want a pipe to smoke? You are man enough for that. Of
+course you are; and why shouldn't you smoke a pipe like other men?"
+
+Men, men!
+
+Walter answered that he couldn't smoke yet. It cost him an effort to
+make the admission; but his first attempt to equal Stoffel in that
+respect had turned out badly.
+
+"So? You don't smoke?" She omitted his "yet."
+
+"Well, it's a good thing. It's a stupid habit in men. And forever the
+terrible smoke! I know other young gentlemen who do not smoke. For
+instance, there is Piet Hammel. He's as old as you, but a little
+smaller. He's going to marry a cousin of mine; and he doesn't smoke
+either."
+
+Walter felt better now. He was interested.
+
+"Yes, they're going to get married about--well, I don't know exactly
+when. But they intend to marry. I tell you, you are a real bachelor;
+and it's awfully stupid of them still to treat you like a child. I've
+told your mother so a hundred times. There on the street just now,
+when we were together--I'm a delicate woman; but do you think I
+was afraid?--with you with me? Not a bit. Not a trace of fear. And
+why? Because everybody could see that I had a man with me. I ought
+to have taken hold of your arm--you're almost taller than I am--but
+I didn't do it because you had a package. And then--the people talk
+so much! The watchman might have seen it, and he would have spread
+the news broadcast that I had been seen at night with a gentleman."
+
+With a gentleman! Walter was listening.
+
+"A woman must always think of her reputation. But we're here at home
+now, and that's very different, entirely different. I know that of
+course you wouldn't tell anything bad about me. Whoever tells anything
+bad on a woman isn't a true gentleman. You know that."
+
+Yes, Walter knew it. He understood Juffrouw Laps better than she
+imagined.
+
+"What I wanted to say was, you must never go through that street. So
+long as you were a child, it made no difference. But now! Let me fill
+your glass for you."
+
+Walter drank.
+
+O Fancy, my muse, where art thou?
+
+"How do you like it?"
+
+Walter owned that the liquor had a pleasant taste.
+
+Satan's handmaid filled the glasses again. They were "so small,"
+really "mere thimbles."
+
+"And you must eat something, dearest. Oh, I have always thought so
+much of you! It's good for you to have a little dram like that."
+
+Walter began to eat.
+
+"Just take off your coat; there's nobody here but us."
+
+Quite so. Walter did take off his coat.
+
+"And I'm going to sit close to you, for you are a dear, good,
+sweet boy."
+
+Fancy, Fancy!
+
+The liquor was strong, and Walter drank more of it than was good
+for him. He lost some of his modesty, and hardly knew what he was
+saying to the talkative Juffrouw, as she asked questions from time
+to time. She was not quite satisfied with the way things were going,
+but hoped for the best.
+
+Occasionally Walter found time to wonder why he was there, what the
+purpose of the enforced visit might be. His hostess seemed to have
+forgotten all about those thieves and murderers; and when he reminded
+her of them, she showed a spirit of valor that did him good. For he
+and his valor were undone.
+
+"I will do them! Do you think I'm afraid of such a fellow? Well,
+I guess not. Not afraid of three of them. I wouldn't be afraid of
+ten of them--I'm not afraid of the whole world. I will do them."
+
+All the better, thought Walter; for then he wouldn't have to "do" them.
+
+They now heard something rustling around in the closet, or else they
+imagined they heard something. Walter was frightened. He was a perfect
+child again.
+
+"Stay here, and I will see what it is," cried the Juffrouw. "Do
+you think I would let them beat you, or stab you, or murder you,
+my boy! Never! Whoever touches you will have to walk over me. But I
+will give them all they need."
+
+She went out, taking the light with her, to see what was the matter--if
+anything. She was careful to leave Walter in the dark long enough for
+him to wish for her return. The tables were being turned. A little
+more, and the boy would seek protection under her apron.
+
+"But, Juffrouw----"
+
+"I will let you call me Christine. That's my name."
+
+This was too much for Walter. He preferred to avoid addressing her
+directly.
+
+"But hadn't I better go home now?"
+
+"Not at all. You don't want to leave me, do you? You know your mother
+is in bed asleep now. Besides, it was understood that you were to
+spend the night here and take breakfast with me."
+
+Breakfast! The boy hadn't been doing anything else for an hour. Was
+that to continue till morning?
+
+"I'll tell you what! Just undress yourself; and you needn't be a bit
+ashamed before me. I will make down a pallet for you there in the
+corner. When I'm here alone--just a woman--with all the thieves and
+robbers--oh, it's so horrible!"
+
+Walter did not dare to say no; nor did he dare to do what was proposed
+so enticingly. He hesitated.
+
+She talked sweetly and persuaded him.
+
+He began to----
+
+The child was as if hypnotized.
+
+O Fancy, Fancy! Where art thou?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+It will be remembered that on this significant Friday a boat-race
+had been arranged for the amusement of the visiting princes and
+princesses. It had to be called off on account of a disinclination
+on the side of the wind to fill its part of the program, or rather,
+to fill the sails. For it was to have been a "sail." Rowing was not
+in style then; it was not considered dignified and manly. Besides,
+the boats were not built to be propelled in this way.
+
+The boat-race had been canceled; but the crowd remained, and continued
+to discharge its enthusiasm for royalty till a late hour. It was a
+great day; and the populace perspired and shouted and howled.
+
+It was so hot that kings and princesses perspired like ordinary
+mortals. They flourished fans indolently. At that time there was a
+special kind of fan: "joujoux de Normandie."
+
+It was observed that the old countess-palatine manipulated her fan more
+elegantly than anyone else. No doubt it was through this "gentle art"
+that she exerted her greatest influence on humanity.
+
+Gradually the carriages of the distinguished guests disappeared,
+and the knightly horsemen tired of the saddle. The day drew to a
+close. The populace pushed and crowded and sang and hurrahed and
+drank. Fireworks were discharged, to express, so the newspapers said,
+the inexpressible love of the people for princes and princesses.
+
+Oh, those firecrackers, and the danger in them! Quick, quick--throw
+it--a second longer and it will burst in your hand--hurrah!
+
+It was magnificent--the danger and thrilling anxiety. There was
+a tradition that somebody had once held a firecracker in his hand
+too long and had been badly hurt by it. This traditional "somebody"
+was now inspiring the revelers with fresh enthusiasm.
+
+So it was on that evening, before the city authorities had prohibited
+the use of fireworks. After the houses had been covered with slate,
+it was thought that there was too much danger of fire in firecrackers,
+but on that evening, when the houses still had thatch roofs, the
+dangerous pleasure of Amsterdam youth was unrestrained.
+
+And the other dangerous pleasures! How many lasses went home with their
+skirts singed, some of them hardly getting home at all. Interesting
+adventures! And a boy--"those boys have to have their noses in
+everything"--yes, a youth came very near getting a load in his
+face. Thrilling delight!
+
+The crowd was now in the street where Juffrouw Laps resided. The
+reader will recall that Walter was spending the night with her.
+
+Boom! went a gun, or a cannon-cracker; and Walter awoke just as his
+affectionate hostess and religious adviser was going to give him
+a kiss.
+
+Juffrouw Laps had burned her sinful lips. "Lord have mercy on us,
+what is that!" she cried.
+
+Both ran to the open window. Ordinarily a respectable Hollandish girl
+never leaves her window open at night; but the extreme heat of the
+evening must be urged in Juffrouw Laps's favor.
+
+It was clear to them at once that they had not been fired upon by
+those "murderers," for nobody paid any attention to them or showed any
+interest in them. Other windows were open, as well; and on all sides
+people were looking out. Right and left a cannonade of firecrackers
+was going on.
+
+In the interest of privacy Juffrouw Laps took the precaution to blow
+out the light as quickly as possible. Another might have neglected
+this.
+
+Walter looked down on it all with the delight of a child. He forgot
+the insistent kindness of his hostess; he thought of nothing but
+the crowd below and their antics. The noise and tumult sobered him;
+and it even had a quieting effect on Juffrouw Laps.
+
+"How foolish the people are. They push one another hither and thither
+and don't know themselves why they do it."
+
+"Click, click!" answered an enthusiast with a gun. He was in the
+midst of a bevy of girls, who scattered in an uproar.
+
+"They're all drunk," said Juffrouw Laps. "I wish they would go
+home. I'm tired--and it's two o'clock."
+
+"Just a little more!" begged Walter. "I'm not tired--not a bit!"
+
+"I'm afraid you're catching cold. For you know, the night air after
+a hot day--well, put on your cap, dearest. I wouldn't have this night
+air to give you a cold for everything in the world. Look, there goes
+another one." It was a Roman candle.
+
+
+    "Amour ‡ la plus belle.
+    Honneur au plus vaillant----"
+
+
+"Why don't they sing Dutch? Do you understand any of it?"
+
+Walter knew something of the handsome Dunois, who slew so many Turks
+and received as his reward the daughter of the duke, his master. How
+would a knight be rewarded after he had already received one reward? Or
+how would it have been if the master had had no daughter?
+
+While Walter was asking his lady friend such difficult questions as
+these, they heard an outburst of cries and abuse and oaths below. A
+reaction had set in. It was a perfect riot. The crowd swayed first
+one way then the other, according as one party or the other was in
+the ascendency.
+
+Non-combatants were pushing their way out; combatants, themselves
+crowded, were crowding others. Cries of "help" were heard. Mothers,
+with babies in their arms, attested their fear; women in delicate
+health made their condition known.
+
+The press was worst on the corner, whither the revelers were streaming
+from three directions. Here was located a popular restaurant and
+drinking-place, which was probably the destination of the stream coming
+from Amstel Street. The second stream, coming from Utrecht Street,
+evidently had the same objective in view. The strongest current
+was flowing from the belligerent group, which was now squeezed into
+close quarters.
+
+From his recent experience Walter knew what it meant to be in such a
+mob. Whoever fell was walked over. But it really wasn't so bad as that:
+to fall was impossible. The danger was in being crowded off the street
+into basements, where limbs and necks might be easily broken. In this
+respect there was more danger than there had been the evening before
+in Kalver Street.
+
+"Christian souls!" cried Juffrouw Laps. "I'm getting right sick at
+the stomach."
+
+Walter's condition was about the same. All at once he seized her
+arm. He thought that he saw somebody--somebody who looked like----
+
+"That's right, dear. Hold fast to me. It's simply death and murder!"
+
+Walter did not say anything.
+
+"Isn't it enough to run anybody crazy?" continued the dear
+Juffrouw. "Hold fast to me, and remember that I am your Christine."
+
+He was remembering something else.
+
+"Don't be afraid--Lord, that child's beside himself--nobody shall
+hurt you. I will take care of you."
+
+He held on to her arm all the tighter; otherwise he was as if turned
+to stone.
+
+"I wouldn't pay any attention to it, sweetheart. But--it is bad
+enough. Do you see that girl there with the North Holland cap on? I
+wouldn't like to be in her place."
+
+"It is--Femke! O God, it is Femke!"
+
+Shaking off Juffrouw Laps, who attempted to hold him back, he rushed
+down the steps and in a few minutes was in the thickest of the fray.
+
+He fought his way through the crowd like a mad-man, soon reaching the
+point where he had seen Femke. She, however, had disappeared. A man
+with flashy cap and sailor's jacket, who from above had looked like
+her escort, was still contending with the crowd. It seemed as if the
+two had come arm in arm through Amstel Street.
+
+"Is there a girl here with a North Holland cap on?"
+
+The man was too busy fighting and wrestling for standing-room to make
+answer. Meanwhile, Walter noticed that the fellow was struggling
+toward the "Herberge," and concluded that his lady must have taken
+refuge there.
+
+Walter paid no more attention to the punches and blows he received. He
+was only concerned to give as many blows as were necessary to hasten
+his arrival at the restaurant. The place was about as badly crowded
+as the street, but there was no fighting going on.
+
+Yes, Walter had made a good beginning: yesterday in the "Polish
+Coffeehouse," to-day in the "Juniper Berry"--thrown in there, fighting
+his way in here.
+
+He was in the restaurant at last, looking for Femke. Now he thought
+that he had discovered her, standing on a step, or something of the
+kind. With lips tightly closed, her arms crossed, the girl was looking
+quietly down on the multitude as if in silent contempt. The rim was
+torn from her cap and was hanging down. Walter thought that he even
+saw blood on her face--Femke's dear face!
+
+He was exhausted and could not reach her. He looked at her. She did
+not see him.
+
+She stood there proud and haughty. He called to her. She did not hear.
+
+"O God! she despises me. I deserve it for my cowardice at Holsma's."
+
+"Boy," said the woman behind the bar, "we don't have any bellowing
+here. If you want to bellow go to your mother."
+
+Easier said than done. He couldn't move a peg, such was the press. He
+was shoved against the counter; and it was impossible for him to keep
+sight of Femke. The tears began to roll down his cheeks.
+
+"What are you doing in such a crowd anyway?" continued the woman,
+"when you're so weak. You look as flimsy as a dish-rag. What have
+you been doing? Let me give you a glass of cognac."
+
+He would have been only too glad to pay for his place; but, as he
+"received at home everything that he needed," he did not have
+the wherewithal. Still, there was no danger of his being thrown
+out. The crowd, which was threatening to expend its remaining
+energy in destroying the liquids of the place, was now occupying the
+barmaid's attention. I should say Mrs. Goremest's attention. She was
+the proprietress.
+
+The girl continued to hold her position of advantage. There was
+something scornful in her features. "Who dares!" she seemed to say.
+
+Walter was feeling bad. She looked over in his direction, but without
+seeing him. He called; but she did not hear.
+
+Then the fellow with the flashy cap and sailor jacket appeared in the
+door. He had not been one of the belligerents; but he had suffered
+the fate of neutral powers. As his clothing testified, both parties
+had been his enemies.
+
+So intent was the fellow on getting in that he did not even take time
+to return the shoves and cuffs that he received. Twice, three times
+he was crowded back; for where so many want the same thing, it isn't
+easy to obtain. Nevertheless, he had one advantage over the others,
+who sought only a resting-place and a glass of liquor. He was incited
+by something else.
+
+Walter hoped with all his heart that the fellow would succeed in
+reaching Femke. She looked so lonely in the midst of that wild mob. If
+he had been stronger, he would have--but she wouldn't have anything to
+do with him. Wouldn't she push him off, just as she did the insolent
+fellow who first caught hold of her apron?
+
+The girl seemed now to spy the sailor. She nodded to him and smiled,
+as if to encourage him. Or was she thanking him for his fidelity? Her
+smile bore the message that she was uninjured, and fearless. Yes,
+she stood there a statute of repose.
+
+The sailor nodded back.
+
+He would never have denied her, Walter thought.
+
+Mrs. Goremest happened to see the new arrival; and, from the way she
+greeted him, he seemed to be a frequent visitor to her place:
+
+"Hello, Klaas. Are you there too? You're out of breath, aren't you?"
+
+She gave orders to let him through, and even came out a few steps
+and helped open up the way for him.
+
+Thus it happened that Klaas Verlaan found standing-room at the counter
+not far from Walter.
+
+"Well, they've made the most of you!"
+
+He saw it the same way. He was never certain of a moment's recreation
+before bedtime. Walter, as well as the girl who still maintained her
+elevated position in the corner, agreed with the bar-woman's verdict.
+
+"Had a good day?" continued the woman. "It was bad about the
+boat-race."
+
+Klaas placed his finger on his mouth, as if he were going to tell
+her a secret. He wanted to tell of an adventure with Princess Erika.
+
+"A glass of corn?" translated the bar-woman, but without guessing
+the right thing.
+
+"Half and half?"
+
+"Nor that either."
+
+"Red?"
+
+This time Klaas was particularly dainty and hard to please. He declined
+regularly whatever she suggested and continued to exert himself to
+draw her into a more confidential talk. He had had the pleasure of
+pulling Princess Erika out of the water.
+
+On the outside they were still singing, "Amour ‡ la plus belle."
+
+"The devil take those Welsh songs!" cried one of the drinkers. "We
+are Dutchmen forever!"
+
+"Yes, we are Dutchman forever----"
+
+"And our prince----"
+
+"Sh!"
+
+"I will sing what I please; and, if anybody doesn't want to sing"--he
+struck himself on the chest, and the whole party was Dutch and
+enthusiastic over royalty. "Our Prince" was sung lustily, and to
+a finish.
+
+"Hurrah!"
+
+"Yes, when we were still true Dutchmen----"
+
+"Yes, when we were still true Dutchmen----"
+
+"And under the republic!"
+
+"Long live the republic!"
+
+"You all ought to have seen a yacht-race then."
+
+"And our prince----"
+
+"Under the republic all men were equal."
+
+"Equal. No difference at all."
+
+"Down with the tyrants!"
+
+"They're not a bit better than we are!"
+
+"They suck the life out of the people."
+
+"Yes, they bleed us."
+
+"And why? Because you're all cowardly dogs."
+
+"Yes, they're all cowardly dogs."
+
+"You put your necks under the yoke."
+
+"Whenever a king comes around, or an emperor, or a prince, then all
+of you are so frightened you tremble like an aspen leaf."
+
+"Yes, like an aspen leaf!"
+
+"If you fellows were----"
+
+"All men are born free."
+
+"Yes, we were born free and equal."
+
+"And true Dutch hearts--what say you, Mrs. Goremest? What do you think,
+that's a daughter of M'neer----"
+
+The name died on the speaker's lips. He became pale.
+
+"A daughter of M'neer----!"
+
+"Certainly. Ask Verlaan."
+
+Verlaan nodded.
+
+"Is that so, Klaas? Really and truly? Why then does she stand there
+dressed that way--like an ordinary girl?"
+
+"Oh, those clothes came from my Gertie, you know. Rich people have----"
+
+"Come, boys, we must go home now. Mother Goremest needs sleep,
+too. We are not made of iron; we are flesh and blood."
+
+"Down with the tyrants! We were born free. True Dutch hearts----"
+
+"Sh! The young lady----"
+
+"What? That girl? What then?"
+
+"Sh! The daughter of--but don't say a word. Damme if it isn't so--the
+daughter of M'neer--Kopperlith!"
+
+"Kopperlith on Keizersgracht? What are you talking about,
+man! Kopperlith--on Keizersgracht!"
+
+"Yes, of course. Come, we're going."
+
+"His daughter? His----natural daughter?"
+
+"That's right. You understand it now; but keep quiet about it."
+
+The true Dutch hearts and republicans paid and left the bar.
+
+It was a sudden whim of Klaas Verlaan's to make his ward a child of
+Keizersgracht; but it brought him in more ducats than he cared to
+admit afterward.
+
+Kopperlith? Kopperlith? on Keizersgracht? Femke on Keizersgracht! And
+on the day after to-morrow he was to begin work for this wealthy
+gentleman.
+
+His head swam. Was he still Walter Pieterse? He doubted it. Before
+he had quite come to himself, he was forced through the door with
+other late stragglers. It was time for Mrs. Goremest to close.
+
+The street was comparatively quiet now. Walter remained near the
+"Herberge," which to him was a sort of temple where his Goddess was
+being worshiped. Now and then somebody else was pitched out the door,
+who would have been glad to stay longer. It was not every day that
+one got an opportunity to see a daughter of M'neer Kopperlith. Some
+wanted to join the triumvirate of Verlaan, the republican speaker,
+and Mrs. Goremest; but the three felt themselves strong enough to do
+the work and share the rewards.
+
+At last the outflow ceased, and Walter was just going to peep through
+the curtains of the glass door, when the door opened again and the
+republican emerged. Walter heard Klaas call to him:
+
+"There on the corner in Paarden Street, you know. If it costs a dollar
+more, that's all right. Tell the cabby----"
+
+Walter understood. The republican was to get a cab--for Femke?
+
+Walter waited. In the meanwhile, Mrs. Goremest had locked the door and
+drawn the curtains, so that it was impossible for him to look in now.
+
+In a short time a carriage drove up, and the republican sprang out
+of it. The door of Mrs. Goremest's establishment opened again, and
+Klaas Verlaan with the ostensible daughter of Kopperlith appeared.
+
+"Femke, I am here!" Walter cried, hurrying to her. "I am here. Oh,
+Femke, don't go with the strange men!"
+
+"What in the devil are you doing here again!" snorted Verlaan, seizing
+Walter by the collar to pull him back into the restaurant. "What do
+you want? And who are you?"
+
+"Femke, don't go with the strange men. I will take you home, I,
+Walter."
+
+"The boy is weak in the upper story," affirmed Mrs. Goremest. "He's
+been bellowing around her the whole evening like a calf, and he hasn't
+spent a doit."
+
+Walter reached for Femke's hand; and then he noticed how curiously
+she was rigged out. She was completely covered. Of her head,
+face, shoulders, figure--nothing was to be seen. Mrs. Goremest
+had contributed her cloak; but what would one not do for a
+Kopperlith? Still, she was saving: Only the stump of one tallow
+candle was burning. It flickered strangely, giving to everything a
+ghostly appearance.
+
+"Is it you, Erich?" the girl asked.
+
+"Femke, Femke, for God's sake, don't go with those strange men!"
+
+Tearing himself away from Verlaan, he threw himself at Femke's feet. He
+pulled aside her cloak and covered her hand with tears and kisses.
+
+"Just like I tell you," declared Mrs. Goremest. "The boy is as crazy
+as a bedbug."
+
+"Femke, I will never deny you again. Strike me, tread on me, kill me,
+but--don't go with those strange men."
+
+"Light!" cried the girl peremptorily--a word that even a Dutchman
+understands.
+
+The republican took the candle from the counter and held it so that
+the light fell on Walter's face. The boy was still kneeling. Through
+an opening in her hood the girl looked down on him and was silent. She
+did not withdraw the hand that Walter held closely pressed to his lips.
+
+Verlaan made a motion as if to remove the intruder; but the girl
+stopped him with a look. Then she laid her free hand on Walter's head,
+saying simply:
+
+"My brother!"
+
+"Another descendant of Kopperlith!" growled the republican. The young
+people have strange ideas about how to spend the night."
+
+When Walter came to his senses, he was in the street again. The
+carriage had driven away--whether with her, or without her; whether
+with the two men, or without them--that he did not know. It made
+no difference to him: she had called him "brother," seriously,
+solemnly. She had spoken clearly and distinctly.
+
+"O God! I thank thee. Thou art kind and compassionate. I didn't
+know that Femke could speak like that. She must have felt it down in
+her heart."
+
+To-morrow, he thought, he would become immensely wealthy--in
+"business"--and, of course, he was going to be a king again, and
+still more: For Femke he would be more than a brother! Juffrouw Laps
+had awakened in him--well, something, he did not know himself what it
+was. His heart rejoiced; he walked upon stilts, as tired as he was,
+and wondered that his head did not bump against the clouds.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+For anyone in Walter's present mood, there are only two things in
+the world; self, and--nothingness!
+
+Walter looked about him. "Butter Market," he read on a sign. He noticed
+that in the street socks could be bought, wagons hired, etc., etc.
+
+But what did it all mean? Nothing. He had kissed Femke's hand!
+
+It is too bad that the world did not sink out of existence on that
+summer night.
+
+If Walter had noticed such an occurrence, he might have asked if
+Femke was hurt; otherwise the phenomenon would not have disturbed him.
+
+The reader will understand, of course, that on this eventful night
+the world did not go down.
+
+Walter forgave the sun for rising. He even excused the Butter Market
+for being such a hot place; but it was difficult for him to convince
+himself that it was not all a dream.
+
+A new feeling took possession of him. His ambitious plans of a material
+nature receded into the background of consciousness. His one desire
+now was to love Femke--and win her love. Those continents that were
+expecting salvation from him might wait.
+
+He thought of Femke and her soft hand. Never had her hand felt like
+that. Formerly it had seemed harder and rougher; but, of course,
+he had just been mistaken about it. He imagined, too, that hitherto
+he had not marked her voice well, nor her carriage. Surely, he had
+never seen the true Femke till to-night--better, this morning.
+
+But--Klaas Verlaan and his rough companions! What did all that
+gab about M'neer Kopperlith mean? There were other questions too;
+but--Femke had called him brother; and that was one thing which with
+him was as firm as the rock of Gibraltar.
+
+Brooding thus, he slipped along through the streets. Weak and tired,
+he came to the "Dam." Here he saw a long row of carriages. The
+coachmen sat in their places waiting for the princely guests, who
+had wanted to see a Holland sunrise. The sun was already in sight;
+but there were no princes and princesses to see him. A few laborers
+were looking on indifferently.
+
+Yesterday Walter would have exerted himself to see a live, fullgrown
+king, just to find out if he looked like Macbeth, or Arthur, or
+Lear. To-day he was so tired that kings did not interest him.
+
+He was just starting on, when the coachmen suddenly assumed a rigid
+attitude. A boy remarked that "they" were coming now. He was right:
+they did come; and all, except one old lady, drove away so rapidly that
+scarcely anyone saw them. She touched her coachman on the shoulder.
+
+"She has forgotten something," said the boy.
+
+Three or four cavaliers stormed back into the palace and brought her
+fan. While they were gone, the boys wondered at the pimples on her
+face. Walter's  pictures had had nothing of that kind. How different
+Femke's face was!
+
+Walter trudged along further; and, without thinking of where he was
+going, he came to the meadow where Femke and her mother dried their
+clothes. He sat down on the grass, intending to wait for the first
+signs of life in Femke's home. He was not certain that she was there;
+he did not know but that she might still be at Holsma's; but there
+would be somebody there.
+
+Overcome by weariness he lay down and gradually fell asleep. His cap
+came off, rolled down into the ditch and disappeared in the mud.
+
+If anyone passed by, he remarked that there lay a drunken fellow. Yes,
+youth begins early. Possibly the fellow was sick; but then the police
+would take care of him. Nobody hurt him; nobody touched him. His
+dreams were undisturbed.
+
+He dreamed of various things; but the principal object of his dreams
+was a young girl, who was standing on a platform playing ball with
+heavy men, as if that were nothing. Suddenly it was little Sietske
+Holsma.
+
+Then in his dreams he heard a voice:
+
+"Goodness, boy, how did you get here?"
+
+At first the voice was far away, then nearer, and finally quite
+near. He had the dim impression that somebody was pulling him up to
+a sitting posture.
+
+"Sietske!" he whispered, still sleeping.
+
+"Yes, that's my name. How did you know it?"
+
+"Sietske----!"
+
+"Why, certainly. Who told you? And what are you doing here. It isn't
+very respectable. Are you drunk? And so young, too."
+
+He called Sietske's name again.
+
+"You may call me by my first name, if you want to; but how does it
+come? Did Femke tell you? It's a real disgrace to lie here like a
+hog. What were you going to say?"
+
+Walter rubbed his eyes and felt of his head. "I would like to wash
+myself," he said, not yet wide awake.
+
+"All right," cried Mrs. Claus. "And you're not hurt, are you? Where
+is your cap?"
+
+"Wash--with cold water," Walter said.
+
+"Good! Come to the pump with me." She led him through the house and
+across the back yard.
+
+"You needn't be afraid to undress here; nobody can see you. But how
+did you happen to call me by my first name all at once. Not that I'm
+offended at all."
+
+Walter was still too much asleep to recall what had happened to him
+during the past few hours; so he only said that he had a headache
+and must wash himself first.
+
+Mrs. Claus, noticing that he was ashamed to undress, hung some quilts
+on the fence, thus converting the yard into a sort of room. It never
+occurred to her that her own presence might embarrass him. Walter
+was still not quite pleased with the outlook for a bath; but since
+yesterday he had been thinking of other things as strange.
+
+He began to strip, allowing Mrs. Claus to help him, just as if he
+had been fifteen years younger than he was. To Mrs. Claus he was only
+a child.
+
+She laid him on a bench under the spout and began to pump. At the first
+drops he shivered; then the water flooded his head and shoulders. He
+could neither see nor speak. His efforts to speak she interpreted as
+calls for more water.
+
+"Yes, this will be good for you." Her words were drowned by the
+splashing water.
+
+"You didn't hurt yourself, did you? Do you think that will be enough
+now? I've pumped till I've got a pain in my side. But if you think
+that----"
+
+She stopped all at once, but still held on to the pump handle, as if
+to show her willingness to continue.
+
+"I forgot entirely to"--she began pumping again--"wash you off with
+green soap. Femke always washes herself with it. It makes the skin
+nice and smooth.--You ought to see your back now. It shines like
+a looking-glass."
+
+Walter wanted to say something but couldn't.
+
+"Yes, and your forehead, too. It's the green soap that does it. I
+guess your mother never washes you with green soap, does she? Then
+one must scour and scrub and rub. But, if you are not used to soap----"
+
+She lifted that terrible pump handle again.
+
+"I believe this will be about enough," Walter blubbered. His mouth
+was so full of water that again Mrs. Claus did not understand him.
+
+"Green soap is good for corns, and for rheumatism." She was pumping
+away for dear life.
+
+Walter finally succeeded in rescuing himself and the bench from
+that destructive stream of water. He was now able to make his cries
+for mercy understood; but he was not yet able to get up. Besides,
+the good woman had hung his clothes out of his reach, and he was
+ashamed. He remained sitting.
+
+"Do you want anything else?" inquired the water nymph.
+
+"No, no, no!" he answered quickly. She was already lifting the
+pump-handle again. "But----"
+
+The simple, innocent woman did not understand; and, when he continued
+to sit there like a helpless lump of misery, she asked:
+
+"Do you have a pain anywhere?"
+
+"No, I haven't any pains."
+
+"Are you tired?"
+
+He was still tired, and said so.
+
+"And I woke you up! I'll tell you what, you must go to sleep and take
+a good nap."
+
+She began drying him off, as if that were a usual thing in her day's
+work. Then she rolled him up in a sheet and carried him off like a sack
+of clothes. He could not but notice the way she laid him down. Then
+she covered him warmly.
+
+"Straighten out your legs, my boy."
+
+Walter did as she said, and experienced an indescribable feeling of
+comfort. And when she punched him and patted him and tucked him in,
+and said: "Poor child, you can sleep good now. This is Femke's bed,
+you know----" then he was more than comfortable; he was delighted.
+
+When he awakened at about four o'clock in the afternoon he heard
+whispering voices. He listened, at first to find out where he was,
+and then to understand what was being said.
+
+It seemed as if there were a plot further to confuse Sietske with
+Femke in his mind.
+
+"Yes, Sietske; but what does he mean by lying out like that? If I
+were his mother----"
+
+The answer was:
+
+"Cousin, I don't suppose his mother knows about it. Hermann did the
+same thing once. That's the way boys are."
+
+Oho! Sietske was there; and Mrs. Claus was her cousin, and her name
+was Sietske too! And that girl--there in Mrs. Goremest's place?
+
+His thoughts became more and more confused; though physically he
+felt well.
+
+How would it do, he thought, to tear a little piece out of the sheet,
+so as to be able to examine it to-morrow and make certain of himself
+and his adventures?
+
+If he had been accustomed to fine bedlinen at home, he might now
+have taken an especial pleasure in Mrs. Claus's extremely rough
+homemade linen. Hm! He had always dreamed of princesses sleeping on
+embroidered silk, among diamonds and pearls! He did not yet know that
+it is possible to conceive royal and imperial highnesses otherwise
+at night, and that perhaps a princess might sometimes be willing to
+tousle Femke's bed.
+
+He looked about the room. There was another small bed, where, he
+supposed, Femke's mother slept. Across the room was the chimney. Here
+were small shelves decorated with works of art. Walter noticed the
+"resurrection of Lazarus." Four chairs were in the room. One was
+standing by his bed, and on it his clothes were carefully arranged.
+
+In the middle of the room stood a table; and the drawer was partly
+open. It was too full. Father Jansen's woolen socks were peeping
+out while they waited for repairs. Walter wondered if those other
+objectionable articles were there too.
+
+On the wall, at the head of his bed, hung a crucifix, with a small
+basin of holy water. With that she crosses herself, he thought. He
+stuck his hand into it: it was dry. The whole arrangement was fastened
+to an embroidered piece of cardboard, and, when he touched it,
+something fell from behind it.
+
+It looked like a large-sized letter. Walter picked it up and looked for
+the address. He felt that it must be a letter from Femke to him. Then
+he reproached himself, and, trembling with emotion, restored the piece
+of paper to its place. He had held it up to the light: it was the
+Ophelia that he had presented her after his illness! She had treasured
+the picture together with the most sacred thing she possessed.
+
+He was wide awake now; but who wouldn't wake up on receiving a letter
+from Heaven?
+
+He dressed himself and went into the other room, where he supposed
+Mrs. Claus and Sietske were. Not a soul was to be seen. For the first
+time it occurred to him that after those few words he had heard nothing
+more. The girl had surely visited her "cousin" and then gone away.
+
+But Mrs. Claus herself? Perhaps she, too, had gone away. This was
+the case; however, she had not gone out without leaving behind her
+a peculiar sign of her uncouth character and lack of refinement. On
+a small table, before which stood an inviting chair, lay two pieces
+of bread and butter of her standard make. Beside them was a pot of
+coffee. To be sure, it was cold now; but--well, Walter acted quickly
+"according to his convictions."
+
+Other thoughts now forced themselves on his mind. The "House of
+Pieterse" appeared to his mind's eye as a menacing waterspout. In
+the face of this danger difficult questions that had been clamoring
+for answer had to be forgotten.
+
+To go home? For heaven's sake, no!
+
+His mother, Stoffel, his sisters--all had turned into Macbethan
+witches. In his imagination, even Leentje had deserted him and was
+asking him to beg forgiveness for his shameful behavior. He thought
+of the prodigal son; though he knew that no calf, fat or otherwise,
+would be slaughtered on his return.
+
+Sakkerloot! I haven't done anything wrong; I haven't squandered
+anything--not a doit of my inheritance! Have I allowed the wine to
+run out? Not a drop!
+
+But something must have been the matter; for--he did not dare to
+go home.
+
+Have I had any pleasure? Have I enjoyed any feast with four young
+ladies? No! Have I allowed hounds to run around loose in the
+banquet-hall? Have I had any negro servant to hold my horse?
+
+There he took his stand. And he stayed there. Of camels and girls and
+wine he felt that he was innocent; but himself, and his adventures
+of the night, he was unable further to explain.
+
+"I wish I were a crumb of bread," he sighed, as he stuck one into
+his mouth, "then I would know where I belong."
+
+Doubtless the first crumb of bread that was ever envied by a ruler.
+
+Go to America?
+
+Yes, if he only had those hundred florins that Mr. Motto had relieved
+him of. Of course that worthy gentleman was now living like a prince
+on the money. At least, Juffrouw Pieterse had said as much. But,
+even if he had the money, he could not go away and leave Mrs. Claus's
+house to the mercy of stray thieves and robbers. In a way, hadn't he
+on yesterday evening taken the field against robbers?
+
+Besides, he had no cap. There was nothing in sight that looked like
+a hat. Yes--there hung a North Holland cap!
+
+Femke? America?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+While Walter was looking at Femke's cap and revolving other plans of
+escape, the door opened and Kaatje, the girl from Holsma's, walked
+in. Not recognizing her, Walter did not understand her when she said
+that Femke had sent her to ask how he was. He looked at the messenger
+searchingly; then he asked:
+
+"Are you trying to make a fool of me?"
+
+He had puzzled over recent events till everything seemed ghostly and
+unreal; and he was angry.
+
+"My dear sir, Femke sent me."
+
+"What Femke? Somebody's grandmother again." He took a step forward;
+and his attitude was threatening.
+
+"Are you that giant Miller's sweetheart?" taking another step forward,
+while Kaatje fell back.
+
+"Young man!"
+
+Kaatje was already outside of the door, Walter close after her with
+his fists doubled up.
+
+"Young man, what's the matter with you?"
+
+"What's the matter with me? I'm tired of being made a fool of. You
+understand?"
+
+She retreated backwards; he pursued. It may have looked comical; but
+that was the way his anger chose to express itself. In this manner
+the girl returned by the same way she came, which was the footpath
+across the meadow where the clothes were dried.
+
+"Oh, heavens! If the doctor would only come."
+
+"What do you think of me?" Walter said, punctuating his words.
+
+"Oh, Lord!"
+
+"Do you think I'm drunk?"
+
+"Oh, no, no. Not at all!"
+
+"Or crazy?"
+
+"No, no!--Where can the doctor be so long!"
+
+Two very similar shouts put an end to the strained situation.
+
+"Thank God, there he is!"
+
+"Thank God, there it is!"
+
+One cry came from Dr. Holsma's coachman, who was driving up hurriedly;
+the other cry meant that two boys, who were fishing in the ditch for
+frogs, had caught Walter's cap.
+
+Walter accepted his lost property without question or complaint;
+while Kaatje, with tears in her eyes, ran up to Dr. Holsma to explain
+what was the matter.
+
+"Is it really so bad?" asked that gentleman presently.
+
+He approached Walter, who was shaking the mud from his cap, glad to
+think that he was concealing his embarrassment and fright.
+
+"Well, my boy, it's a good thing I met you here. I wanted to ask you
+if you wouldn't like to take dinner with us this evening. Afterwards
+we will all go out for a little amusement, if you like."
+
+That was the tone Walter needed to hear. He burst into tears.
+
+"Thank you, thank you! That will be nice for my mother, too."
+
+Holsma motioned to Kaatje, who had timidly retired to the background.
+
+"Go to Juffrouw Pieterse and tell her that the young gentleman dines
+with us, and that he is going to spend the evening with us."
+
+"Yes," cried Walter quickly, "and----"
+
+The doctor looked at him anxiously. He was afraid that he saw symptoms
+of the alleged mental disorder; but Walter's eye was calm and gave
+no ground for fear.
+
+"M'neer, can't she say too that I----"
+
+"Out with it, my boy! What have you on your heart?"
+
+"That I was with you--all day!"
+
+Holsma reflected.
+
+"Certainly," he said, "all day."
+
+"From early this morning--from seven o'clock on."
+
+"From seven o'clock on," the doctor repeated.
+
+"And--I ate breakfast at your house."
+
+"Certainly, the young gentleman ate breakfast at our house. To be
+sure, he ate breakfast with us. Kaatje, you can ride in the carriage
+with us."
+
+As Holsma helped Walter in he gave the coachman directions to stop at
+Juffrouw Pieterse's, where "the girl" was "to leave a message." When
+he took a seat by his protÈgÈ, Walter pressed his hand and exclaimed:
+"Oh, what a good fortune it is that I found you!"
+
+"Do you think so? It was only a--mere accident. Mrs. Claus is a----"
+
+"A cousin?" interrupted Walter.
+
+"Yes, and she's a good woman," said Holsma. "She is a cousin of ours,
+and I came to visit her. I do that every week, not as a physician,
+but as a kinsman. You can go to see her as much as you like: nothing
+will hurt you there."
+
+"M'neer!" exclaimed Walter suddenly--and he caught his breath--"I
+think so much of Femke!"
+
+"So?" answered Holsma dryly. "I do too."
+
+The doctor was diagnosing Walter's case; but he preferred to do it
+quietly. While speaking of indifferent things, he noted that Kaatje had
+been mistaken; that Walter was both excited and exhausted, but that
+his mind was unaffected. On the contrary, his mind was growing. His
+soul was expanding.
+
+When Kaatje left the carriage, Walter felt that the time had come to
+give and receive explanations. Holsma was of a contrary opinion. He
+was friendly enough, but showed no inclination for heart-to-heart
+confidences. Walter's confusing story was promptly interrupted.
+
+"I've heard that you're going to enter the world of business."
+
+"Yes, sir, the day after to-morrow."
+
+"Well, that isn't bad, if you get into the right hands. You must work,
+though; and that's good for boys like you."
+
+Fearing that Walter might imagine he was something more than the
+average boy, Holsma continued immediately:
+
+"It's a good thing for everybody, especially young people. They're
+all alike; and all need to work. All boys must work; and girls,
+too. Everybody must work."
+
+Walter did not understand that the doctor was giving him a dose
+of medicine; but he saw that the time for explanations had not
+yet arrived. Still he would have felt better if he could have
+unburdened his mind of at least a part of those persistent memories
+of last night. His instinct of chivalry would have prevented him
+from mentioning the details of the Laps affair, which, after all,
+had only been an ineffective attack.
+
+He began again; but the doctor interrupted him before he had hardly
+mentioned the fried potatoes.
+
+"Yes, such things happen to everybody. That doesn't amount to
+anything. The thing for young people to do--and for old people,
+too--is to work. It seems to be rather windy."
+
+That was true. If it had only been as windy yesterday.
+
+"Do you like pictures?" asked Holsma, when they had left the carriage
+and were entering his home.
+
+"Of course!"
+
+"Good! Just go into that room. Look at everything as long as you
+please."
+
+The doctor pushed him into the room, then ran through the hall and
+up the stairs to prepare the family for Walter's reception.
+
+Walter found little pleasure in paintings. He had had no training
+in art. For him, a man with a dog and a hare was merely a man with a
+dog and a hare. He felt that a poem ought to have been written about
+it all; then it would have been intelligible. His glance fell on the
+portrait of a woman, or a queen, or a fairy, or a mayor's daughter.
+
+Femke!
+
+Instead of the North Holland cap she wore a diadem of sparkling stars,
+or rays of----
+
+"Dinner is ready, and papa and mamma invite you to come out to the
+dining-room. Are you still sore after your fall?" It was little
+Sietske.
+
+"I didn't fall."
+
+"I mean from your fall on the table in the coffee-house. How
+comical! Well, if you are all right again, we're going out this
+evening--papa, mamma, William, Hermann, you, I--all! We're going to
+the theatre!"
+
+Sietske had understood her orders.
+
+"Going out?--to the theatre? But my mother----"
+
+"Papa will attend to that. Don't worry; he will arrange everything."
+
+Once out in the hall, Walter hesitated again. He motioned to Sietske
+and took her back into the room.
+
+"Sietske, who is that?"
+
+"That is a great-great-great-great-grandmother of ours."
+
+"But she looks like----"
+
+"Like Femke! Of course. Like me, too. When Hermann puts on such a
+cap you can't tell him from Femke. Come, now. We mustn't keep mamma
+waiting."
+
+On entering the dining-room Walter was met by that quiet cordiality
+that the doctor had prescribed. When all were seated Sietske mentioned
+the picture again in apologizing to Walter for hurrying him away
+from it.
+
+"Yes," remarked the doctor quietly, "there is some resemblance;
+but Femke is not so pretty. No, not by a great deal."
+
+A cold douche!
+
+Walter had never thought of Femke's beauty. He really did not know
+whether the girl was pretty, or not.
+
+"Will you take some sauce, Walter?"
+
+She had called him brother, so solemnly, and with such a mien! Of
+course the lady in the portrait, with the sparkling diadem, would
+hold out her hand the same way. Walter made an awkward gesture with
+his hand.
+
+"Salad?" asked Sietske.
+
+"It will be crowded," said Mevrouw Holsma. "Everyone will want to see
+the kings and princes. We haven't asked our guest yet if he wants to
+go. We're going to the theatre; would you like to go with us?"
+
+Walter was charmed at the prospect. He had never been in a theatre,
+but had long wanted to see such a play as Leentje had described. He
+cared nothing for kings. He would have given a dozen kings for one
+baron carrying away a girl in the approved manner. The Glorioso
+influence was still on him.
+
+"We shall see half of the sovereigns of Europe," said Holsma, "and
+a dozen candidates----"
+
+Walter wondered what the candidates would do in the "comedy." Sietske
+explained.
+
+There was still plenty of time. Holsma was going out to see a patient
+and promised to stop at Juffrouw Pieterse's.
+
+For reasons of fashion and feminine finery the play was not to begin
+till nine o'clock.
+
+Walter heard that Femke, too, was to witness the performance; and from
+the conversation he gathered that the relations existing between the
+aristocratic family and the poor wash-girl were most cordial. Mevrouw
+Holsma sent Sietske to ask Femke to come in; but Femke preferred to
+remain with little Erich, with whom she was playing at the time.
+
+"Erich?" thought Walter.
+
+"I thought as much," said Mevrouw Holsma. "That's why she wasn't at
+the table. She would rather stay with the baby."
+
+"She says, too, that we sit at the table too long for her," added
+Sietske.
+
+"She wouldn't enjoy the play anyway," observed William. "She's a good
+girl, but she's a little thick-headed. Don't you think so, mamma?"
+
+"Everyone must act according to his own convictions, and consult his
+own tastes. Femke is too good to be forced to anything."
+
+There must have been some special reason why the mother was going
+to the theatre with the rest, when she preferred to stay at home
+with little Erich, who had the measles. But she was going to remain
+"only a little while," and then come back with Uncle Sybrand. He
+would return to the theatre taking Femke with him, if she cared to go.
+
+"I call it thick-headedness," affirmed William. "She just don't want
+to put on a fine dress."
+
+"No, she doesn't want to be a fine lady," said the mother. "She is
+very sensible and fears that this might disturb her relations with her
+mother. We ought to have taken her when she was little; but Mrs. Claus
+couldn't give her up then. And now Femke can't give herself up."
+
+"She's only stubborn," William explained.
+
+"She is proud," corrected his mother, "too proud to appear other than
+she is. She wouldn't exchange places with a princess."
+
+Uncle Sybrand came. He announced that the "Scylla" of Rotgans was to be
+given, followed by "Chloris," with something else as a close. Holsma
+had already returned, bringing Walter the assurance that it was all
+right with his mother.
+
+Walter was enchanted in anticipation. Was he still thinking of Femke?
+
+William said: "So far as I'm concerned she can stay at home. Suppose
+the students were to see me with a peasant girl! What would they do
+for me when I enter college in September?"
+
+Such an Amsterdamer calls everybody a "peasant," even if he is a
+student and able to explain what sort of a "Scylla" that was.
+
+All were now dressed and starting. Walter was to see his first
+"comedy," and, perhaps, take a part in one.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+Good Muse, sweet Muse, take us back to Pieterseville again. Whisper
+to me and tell me what happened there during Walter's romantic
+enchantment; and have a care that my language rises to the dignity
+of the subject.
+
+We know already, Clio, how the mistress of the castle saw her progeny
+depart to protect the distressed lady from the nefarious attacks of
+robbers and murderers; how her blessing and the consecrated blade were
+withheld, and how the brave youth sallied forth with a nightcap his
+only weapon. We know, too, how the bachelor Stoffel, the hereditary
+custodian of the reputation of the family----
+
+Ah, let us treat the matter quite simply, and leave the muse alone.
+
+On the Friday evening in question Juffrouw Pieterse went to bed as
+usual. The others did the same. There were no indications of bad
+dreams. There was no trace of anxiety over the terrible danger to
+which Walter had thoughtlessly exposed himself. This might have
+been because they did not know of the danger. It had not been at
+all necessary for Juffrouw Laps to conceal her intention so slyly
+and always omit Walter's name from the knighthood of the Pieterse
+family. Thanks to the stupidity of the family, she might have gained
+her point without any finesse.
+
+Saturday morning dawned, that morning on which Mrs. Claus applied
+the restoratives so abundantly, and so efficaciously.
+
+"I wonder where in the world the boy can be so long?" said the mother.
+
+"I don't suppose he got up very early; and then maybe she had him to
+read a chapter out of the Bible at breakfast."
+
+This explanation by Stoffel quieted the family for half an hour.
+
+"How would it do for you to go over there?" Juffrouw Pieterse proposed
+at last.
+
+"I'm not going, mother. You know it isn't on my way to school."
+
+That was a sufficient reason. Never do anything that isn't on your
+way--one of the favorite maxims of conservatism. Stoffel himself did
+not know how profound was the wisdom of his political aphorism.
+
+"How would it do, then, to send Leentje over to Juffrouw Laps's to
+inquire about Walter?"
+
+This proposal met with approval, and Leentje was dispatched forthwith.
+
+Oh, poor Juffrouw Laps! She was "the most wretched woman in the world;"
+and the room from which Walter had fled so suddenly was now the temple
+of all the heterogeneous griefs and pains that novelists ever make
+use of.
+
+I will not place Walter above Joseph, Theseus, Jason or Hippolytos. May
+Apollo preserve me from such blind partiality. Not by any means do I
+regard my hero as the most interesting mortal that ever left a woman
+in the lurch. No, not in Walter's worth do I seek for the measure
+of the forsaken lady's despair. Indeed, Juffrouw Laps's pain was
+not caused by any reflections as to the beauty or excellence of the
+vanished knight. There was another element in the matter that was
+filling her with horror and driving her to distraction. With all due
+respect for the suffering of other abandoned ladies, Asnath, Ariadne,
+Medea, Phaedra--but Juffrouw Laps had to face Walter's family. That
+was the trouble.
+
+Her fertile brain evolved the most wonderful plans. How would it do for
+her to tell that he had been carried away in a fiery chariot before
+the eyes of the people, like Elias of old? She discarded the idea,
+for fear that no one would believe it.
+
+At first she had waited at the window, watching for her little Theseus
+to return. When she saw him no more she thought that perhaps the mob
+had carried him off with them. That was not an unpleasant thought;
+since her fear for his return to his family was greater than her
+desire for his return to her. This is easily understood: what might
+he not tell at home?
+
+It was already daylight; but Juffrouw Laps knew that it was too early
+to go to the Pieterses'. Besides, what would she say? That her little
+knight had run away during the night? And why? Whither? How did she
+know but that he had already told the story in all its details?
+
+She determined--not to determine upon anything, and to leave the
+matter with the "Master" for the present. With this pious resolve she
+climbed into her maidenly bed; and, before falling asleep, she groaned:
+"If the rascal had only broken his neck, like the high priest Eli,
+in First Samuel, 4!"
+
+No doubt the Master saw the distress of his faithful disciple and
+taught her how to meet the situation that awaited her waking; for
+Leentje soon returned with the assurance of Juffrouw Laps that Walter
+was out taking a morning walk.
+
+In a way, this was the truth. The Juffrouw merely neglected to add
+why he was taking a walk, and at what hour in the morning he had gone
+out. Leentje, suspecting nothing, asked no questions. For her it was a
+"matter of course" that he would not go out in the middle of the night.
+
+The family now regarded the incident as fresh evidence of Walter's
+objectionable habit of roving, and nothing more. They felt no anxiety
+for his personal safety.
+
+"There it is again!" said the mother. "The trouble and vexation I
+have with that boy. Anybody else would sit down for a while after
+breakfast; but he--what does he do? He runs away before it's hardly
+daylight. Is that any way to do, Stoffel?"
+
+"No, mother."
+
+"And to leave us here anxious and worrying over him!"
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"This is a nice caper he's cutting again. He knows very well that
+we're all uneasy and won't have a minute's peace till he comes. God
+only knows where he is."
+
+Stoffel could not wait to hear more. It was time for him to go
+to school.
+
+It may be repeated that there was not a word of truth in all this
+uneasiness and anxiety. The family considered such a display to be the
+proper thing; though, for the rest, they did not manifest the slightest
+interest in Walter's fate. For aught they knew some accident might
+have happened to the boy; but, instead of making a serious effort to
+find out what had become of him, his mother found it easier to accuse
+him of indecorous conduct and general worthlessness.
+
+Thus matters remained until Dr. Holsma's carriage drove up before
+Juffrouw Pieterse's door that afternoon and Kaatje alighted with her
+message. After the recent fright Walter had given her, she was glad
+enough to escape from such close proximity to the young lunatic. For
+thus she regarded him.
+
+All rushed to the window.
+
+"There he is; there he is!" cried the whole family in a breath, and
+as loud as they could. "Did you ever! Really, he's sitting there in
+Dr. Holsma's carriage."
+
+This flattering observation banished everything else from their
+thoughts, and made Kaatje's task an easy one. It was now a simple
+matter for her to allay their fears. They were no longer concerned
+to know where Walter had been. It was enough that he was now in
+Dr. Holsma's carriage.
+
+"Ate breakfast at the doctor's? Girl, you don't say so! And--and--why
+isn't the coachman wearing his furs?"
+
+Kaatje was dumbfounded and could only stammer some reference to the
+season. In fact, the manner in which her message was being received
+strengthened her worst suspicions of Walter's sanity. It seemed to
+her that the entire family was a little "off."
+
+"And he really ate breakfast at the doctor's? Do you understand,
+Trudie? Ate breakfast at Dr. Holsma's!"
+
+"Yes, he ate breakfast with us. To be sure he did. The doctor himself
+said so."
+
+"At Dr. Holsma's, and ate breakfast there?"
+
+"Why, certainly. Where else?"
+
+"And did he use the good manners I've taught him?"
+
+"Of course, Juffrouw! But----"
+
+"And is he now in the carriage with the doctor?"
+
+"Why, Juffrouw--naturally!"
+
+"Listen, my dear," continued the proud mother, "I am going to tell you
+something; but you need not repeat it to anybody else. Don't you know,
+that's an unusual child!"
+
+"Yes," sighed Kaatje, thoroughly convinced, "I know it."
+
+"You know it, don't you? And do you know why? I'm going to tell
+you. He's an unusual child, because--Pietro, move away a little, and
+you, too, Mina. Trudie, you can stay where you are, but pay attention
+to your knitting!--he's an unusual child, don't you know, because,
+before he was born, you understand----"
+
+"Oh, Juffrouw!"
+
+"Yes, my dear, I dreamed of a butterfly; and it was dragging off an
+elephant! You understand now?"
+
+"Oh, yes, Juffrouw. I understand exactly."
+
+"Don't you see? That's the reason. Give the doctor my politest regards,
+and thank him for me. If he's only well-behaved--I mean Walter. And
+the coachman wears such a fur cap only in the winter?"
+
+Kaatje managed to escape, fully resolved never to dream of elephants
+and butterflies. Such an indulgence seemed to her to be particularly
+dangerous; for she now began to think in all seriousness that the
+whole family was crazy, and that what she had seen in Walter was
+merely a sample of the general disorder.
+
+When a few hours later the doctor himself stopped at Juffrouw
+Pieterse's, her joy over Walter's exaltation know no bounds. Holsma
+took note of the stupid woman's foibles and follies, and resolved
+to prescribe an intellectual diet for Walter that would counteract
+their influence.
+
+Poor Juffrouw Laps! If she had only known how happily everything
+had turned out, how much worry she might have spared herself! In the
+seclusion of her own room she was still quoting the Bible and fighting
+for her honor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+The reader is now invited to return to the theatre party, from which
+he was called suddenly away by the anxiety experienced in certain
+quarters over Walter's disappearance.
+
+The family took their seats, in the parquet this time, having had to
+give up their box to visiting potentates. The box was still unoccupied.
+
+"A comedy!" Walter thought. He looked about him and listened.
+
+The house was crowded, and everyone was talking. Backstairs gossip and
+court scandals were passed around. People were wondering who would
+sit there, and who would sit there. Later arrivals were pushing at
+one another and quarreling about seats.
+
+"The programs for the princes are printed on silk. What do you suppose
+it cost a yard?"
+
+"Rotgans is one of the first poets!"
+
+"Hm! Better say one of the second."
+
+"He's a poet of the seventh class."
+
+"Why, then, one of his plays? We have poets whose song is as clear
+as a bell!"
+
+"Of course, Bilderdyk! A Phoenix!"
+
+"Oh, these foreigners don't understand a word of it anyway, and it
+doesn't make any difference what the play is."
+
+"It's a pity about Floris."
+
+"Oh, there's something behind that."
+
+"Yes, Bilderdyk is a patriot."
+
+"A genuine Hollander!"
+
+"A genuine----"
+
+"He will give those foreigners something to think about."
+
+"Sh!---- ... not much flattery. No Hollander is going to do that."
+
+"Sh!"
+
+Everybody stood up. A footman appeared in the royal box, probably to
+see whether the cushions were straight on the chairs, or not.
+
+"The idea, the very idea of standing up before a lackey!"
+
+It was enough to make them indignant; but they had done it, even
+those who protested loudest. There were city aldermen in the number,
+and doctors, and professors, and prominent business men, including,
+perhaps, the great Kopperlith.
+
+Another period of babbling and waiting; then another footman
+appeared. Again everybody sprang to his feet. Again all, except the
+silent Holsmas, railed at such stupidity.
+
+The crowd became more restless. Innumerable times were they fooled by
+some footman or other, who opened a door to break the monotony. The
+people were already beginning to complain, but softly, cautiously.
+
+Walter was carried away with the elegance and magnificence of it
+all. One thing, however, jarred upon his sense of propriety: he
+wondered how such swell folk could say such commonplace things. The
+Holsmas said nothing. Only once, when Uncle Sybrand pointed to a
+certain box, did they join in the general hubbub.
+
+"She will sit there, I think."
+
+"I shall be sorry if I have left little Erich all for nothing,"
+said Mevrouw Holsma.
+
+"He's safe with Femke."
+
+"Yes, but I had rather be with him myself. The child is sick. I'm
+not going to wait much longer."
+
+"It's doubtful whether she will come with the others. I've heard that
+she's full of moods and mischief. She cares nothing for convention. It
+seems to run in the blood."
+
+"If she isn't here by ten o'clock I'm going. I don't care much about
+it, anyway."
+
+This conversation occupied Walter for a short time. Who was this person
+on whose account Mevrouw Holsma had left the bedside of her sick child?
+
+The tension of expectancy was broken, and a momentary excitement pulsed
+through the multitude. All arose to their feet, and remained standing.
+
+An emperor, or something of the kind, entered the royal box. Walter
+could see little; but he inferred what was going on from whisperings
+he heard about him. His majesty had made a quick rush for his chair,
+turning over a few other chairs in so doing. That was a habit of
+his. Then he looked about the auditorium for a moment with squinted
+eyes, jerked up his chair and fell into it. He was in a hurry. The
+public was now at liberty to take their seats.
+
+The other boxes were now filled quickly, as if by a stroke of
+magic. Remarkable costumes were on exhibition. There were bodices three
+inches wide, with skirts of as many yards. Voluptuous bosoms hovered
+between chin and girdle. Scanty sleevelets did not know whether they
+were to cover arms or shoulders. The ladies wore kid gloves reaching to
+their armpits, and on their heads were turbans and flower-gardens. The
+uniforms of the gentlemen were even more conspicuous. Those shakos! The
+enemy would have run at the sight of them.
+
+The orchestra began to play. It was that song about the brave Dunois,
+of course.
+
+"Arise!" someone called; and all scrambled to their feet again in
+honor of the brave hero.
+
+The curtain went up.
+
+
+    "Yes, Minos, on the present that I gave to thee----
+    'Twas stolen from the church----"
+
+
+"What church?" asked Walter.
+
+"Sh!" from William. "Poetic license. You will see how it is."
+
+
+    "----hangs Nisus' crown and life."
+
+
+"Qu'est-ze qu'elle changte?" cried the countess-palatine. Then she
+let herself out on costumes, speaking in a noisy voice.
+
+Walter listened like a finch. Not that he understood very well;
+but everything strange interested him intensely.
+
+Not a soul was touched by the tragic bravery of King Minos; no one was
+listening. Poor Rotgans! Afterwards it was said that Napoleon had been
+especially pleased with "our Snoel" and with "our Watlier." Goodness,
+Napoleon! When he was to be crowned he had Talma the mimic to drill
+him for the ceremony--instead of saying to Talma: "Look, this is the
+way an emperor appears when he's crowned!"
+
+Walter listened attentively; even though he sometimes felt that he
+could make such verses himself.
+
+During the performance another commotion arose. One of their majesties
+had asked for a glass of orange lemonade; and this was something the
+buffetier did not have. A runner was dispatched to the drug-store
+post haste. He returned with a bottle of lemon-syrup. The situation
+became threatening. The news spread like fire that they were making a
+"Majesty" wait for such a trifle. King Minos declared:
+
+
+    "Feelings of pleasure thrill my inner man--"
+
+
+"De l'eau de fleur d'orange! que diantre!" cried a chamberlain. And
+Minos noticed that nobody was interested in what was going on in
+his interior.
+
+A confectioner up on "Olympus" allowed his light to flash out and
+gave some valuable information; but the police had him by the collar
+in a jiffy. He was to be dragged away and put in confinement for
+the present. The technical charge was, "Making a demonstration for
+the House of Orange." At that time the House of Orange was in exile,
+and Napoleon's brother was king of Holland.
+
+
+    "Feelings of pleasure thrill my inner man--"
+
+
+repeated Minos with gusto. The conductor of the orchestra seized his
+baton and was going to play, "Hail to the Emperor." Many stood up in
+readiness to escape in case of danger.
+
+In the meantime the prisoner was screaming as if he were possessed;
+but the two Italian police that Napoleon had brought with him could
+not understand a word.
+
+The emperor himself had forgotten that he had called for orange water
+and was now engrossed in a military map.
+
+"Qu' a-t-il?" he seemed to be asking the lady next to him.
+
+Minos had begun again and was once more repeating his assurance that
+"feelings of pleasure thrill----"
+
+Walter noted that the grown-up members of the Holsma party did not
+pay the slightest attention to the play.
+
+"If she doesn't come soon, I'm going," Mevrouw Holsma repeated.
+
+"Perhaps she's sitting further back in the emperor's box, where we
+can't see her."
+
+"I've heard that in Paris she never stays fifteen minutes in the same
+place. Maybe we shall find her somewhere else," remarked another.
+
+"I am not going to wait but five minutes longer. My little Erich is
+worth more to me than a thousand cousins----"
+
+"Of the king," added Holsma.
+
+Walter had thought that they meant Femke. What, then, could be so
+interesting about the princess? The boxes were full of them.
+
+At the close of the third act Mevrouw Holsma left with Uncle Sybrand,
+who was to return with Femke. "If she will come," he said. "For she
+cares nothing for such a fuss."
+
+Walter knew better. Uncle Sybrand ought to have seen her in the
+"Juniper Berry." But a knight tells no tales.
+
+Old Minos is insanely in love with Ismene, who is so beautiful
+and virtuous. Scylla is insanely in love with Minos, who is old and
+dignified. Ismene is in love with Focus, who is a hero; and, possibly,
+Focus loves Ismene, though he does not treat her quite gallantly. He
+says to her:
+
+
+    "Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"
+
+
+The tumult on Mount Olympus began afresh. Had the rebellious
+confectioner returned? All eyes were directed toward the gallery. A
+policeman in uniform was seen remonstrating in vain with some men
+on the front seat. In order to make them understand his French, or
+Italian, he was pulling at their arms. They were to understand that
+he did not want to arrest them, or kill them, but merely wanted them
+to give up their seats.
+
+
+    "Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"
+
+
+"Qu' y a-t-il encore?" asked the emperor again; and, when one of the
+chamberlains answered his question, he laughed heartily. Heads were
+together everywhere. Something interesting was going forward on Mount
+Olympus. People whispered and tittered and laughed outright. Their
+eyes were fastened on the gallery. Even the emperor stood up and
+leaned out of his box. But it did no good: he could not see around
+the corner. He was surprised at this.
+
+The countess-palatine, however, had got to the bottom of the
+matter. She was exchanging telegraphic messages with someone in the
+background on Mount Olympus. No one was thinking of Rotgans' play.
+
+She was greeting someone with that famous fan. Whom? The rebellious
+confectioner? With arms extended she was testifying that there was
+something extraordinary up there among that rabble.
+
+
+    "Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"
+
+
+The countess-palatine threw off all restraint, and laughed and
+laughed. After the emperor had laughed hilarity was permissible. Her
+pleasure was beyond her control.
+
+I should have to have a double pen to report what Uncle Sybrand said
+on his return, and, at the same time, reproduce the exclamation that
+escaped Walter, who was looking towards the gallery with eyes and
+mouth wide open.
+
+"Where is Femke?" asked Holsma.
+
+"She didn't want to come," replied Uncle Sybrand. "Just as I said."
+
+"There she is!" cried Walter.
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Femke, M'neer, Femke, Femke--that is Femke! And she----"
+
+The girl above had taken hold of the policeman by the collar and,
+pushing him to one side, had pressed forward to the front row. There
+she had seated herself on the laps of the fellows the policeman had
+been negotiating with in vain.
+
+"It is Femke, M'neer. If only they don't hurt her!"
+
+Again the emperor stood up and stared at Mount Olympus. He saw the girl
+with the North Holland cap and nodded to her. The countess-palatine
+greeted again with her fan, as if she would congratulate her on
+securing the seat.
+
+"But, M'neer, it is Femke," cried Walter, amazed that he received
+no answer.
+
+Even Holsma and Sybrand were surprised, but not so much so as Walter.
+
+"Now, children," said Holsma, "you can tell your mother that we saw
+her." And to Walter he continued, "That girl is a relation of ours."
+
+"Yes, Femke!"
+
+"No, that isn't her name; and----"
+
+"M'neer, don't I know Femke?"
+
+That sounded quite different from what Walter had said that evening
+when he "denied" her.
+
+The girl's big blue eyes, roving about the hall, suddenly fell on
+Walter. She bent over, looked him attentively in the face, then nodded
+to him and threw him a kiss.
+
+At least, he thought it was that way; and it was that way. But everyone
+in the parquet thought that the kiss had been intended for him. Folk
+of quality were annoyed at the insolence of the peasant wench; while
+more "sporty" persons returned the attention.
+
+Soon hissing was heard. The news had leaked out that Princess Erika,
+the cousin of the king, had dressed in the national costume to show
+her affection for the people.
+
+"Don't you believe it, M'neer? I tell you that is Femke," Walter
+assured him with tears in his eyes.
+
+"No, no, my boy. That girl is not Femke."
+
+"But, she greeted me!"
+
+"You saw the emperor greet her; and you know he would not salute
+a wash-girl."
+
+That was perhaps true; but it was hard for Walter to accept it. And,
+on the other hand, it was just as hard for him to believe that the
+princess was a cousin of the Holsmas.
+
+Again he imagined that the girl was nodding to him and motioning her
+lips. It looked to him as if she said: "My brother!" Walter lisped
+the words after her and pressed both hands to his breast.
+
+Yes, now he had it! They considered him a little daft and wanted
+to cure him of his fixed idea. That would explain the visit to the
+theatre and also Femke's alleged unwillingness to come with Uncle
+Sybrand. But--how did she dare to interfere with the policeman? And
+the greeting from the emperor? And how did Holsma know that he had
+"denied" Femke, and that her presence could threaten his peace of mind?
+
+"Oh, M'neer, let Femke sit here! I will be perfectly quiet. I am so
+afraid she will get hurt up there among those men."
+
+Holsma looked at him wistfully. After all, could Kaatje have been
+right about it? He sought to distract Walter's attention by referring
+to other things; but it was useless.
+
+"All right," said Holsma at last "I just wanted to tease you a
+little. Femke is sitting up there, because she--doesn't wish to sit
+here. She thinks that it wouldn't be proper, because she's only a
+wash-girl. She's afraid we would be ashamed. You see?"
+
+"M'neer, no one need be ashamed to sit by her. Not even the emperor."
+
+"Yes, yes," agreed Holsma. "Quite so. Femke is a brave girl and
+doesn't need to cringe before anybody. Watch the play, my boy."
+
+Walter was willing to do what the doctor said, but not without taking
+leave of that glorious apparition. He looked up; and she smiled to
+him again. Then she took from her breast a rose branch, with three
+buds on it, held it a moment between the forefinger and thumb of her
+left hand, pointed to Walter with her right and let it fall.
+
+The rosebuds landed on the bald pate of a stout gentleman near the
+Holsma party. He seized them and examined them admiringly; but, before
+he could decide what to do with them, Walter had sprung over half a
+dozen chairs and deprived him of the precious property. With a glance
+toward Olympus, Walter pressed the roses to his lips. Princess Erika
+nodded approval; and the playful countess-palatine applauded lustily.
+
+That was more than Walter could bear. He had never forgiven himself
+for denying her; but she, the noble, the big-hearted, the majestic
+one!--she had proclaimed her pardon publicly before the people. And
+that was why she preferred to sit in the gallery. She had washed
+away the black spots from his soul; she had restored his soiled
+chivalry. These thoughts flashed through Walter's mind like lightning.
+
+He sank to the floor in a faint. But was it any wonder?
+
+The Holsmas took him home with them for the night; and another message
+was sent to Juffrouw Pieterse.
+
+"Don't you see, Stoffel? Just as I said! I don't care if everybody
+knows it. He's simply living at Dr. Holsma's. Trudie, don't forget when
+Leentje goes to the grocer's---- Upon my soul, he's at Dr. Holsma's
+all the time!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+The next morning, Sunday, the doctor invited Walter into his study. He
+spoke to him sympathetically and encouraged the boy to lay his case
+before him; though he avoided everything that might make Walter believe
+that his experiences were anything extraordinary. He already knew
+more about it than Walter could tell. Even Walter's adventure with
+Juffrouw Laps was perfectly transparent to him. There was nothing
+lost to him because of the boy's lack of skill in handling the story.
+
+While Walter poured out to him his inner experiences, Holsma listened
+quietly, as if it was all familiar to him. Walter's reverence and
+passion for the good he interpreted as a commonplace phenomenon
+incident to budding youth. He treated the boy's love for Femke as an
+ordinary matter. He admitted that it had been exactly the same way
+with him when he was a boy--a method that few parents and educators
+seem to be familiar with.
+
+"Certainly, certainly, my boy. In such moods a fellow would like
+to be everywhere at the same time, ruling, regulating and putting
+things into order. He feels that he's responsible for everything;
+and it hurts him to see so much crookedness in the world. I know very
+well how it is. But you must consider the means and remedies at your
+disposal. How are you going to begin to improve things?"
+
+Walter was silent.
+
+"Do you think that everyone is bad? I suppose you hardly think
+that. There are plenty of people in the world who wish for the same
+things that you are worrying about. Why don't they change the world?"
+
+Again Walter was silent. The very simplicity with which Holsma put
+the question disconcerted him.
+
+"I will try to help you out. Do you believe that I am a good man?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" cried Walter enthusiastically.
+
+"You think so? Well, I think so too. I should be ashamed not to be
+able to say that. Why don't I reform the world? You often speak of
+Africa. That's because you don't know that country, my boy. And I, who
+am a good man, have not abolished slavery. Why not, do you suppose?"
+
+Walter returned no answer. Holsma was busy with a surgical
+operation. Is it any wonder that the patient tried to withdraw the
+member that was being cut away?
+
+"I will present the matter to you differently. Do you hear that
+knocking and hammering? Listen! That comes from the blacksmith's shop
+over there. It isn't so bad on Sunday; but you can easily imagine
+that the noise sometimes disturbs me."
+
+"In case of sickness!"
+
+"Yes, and also when I wish to think. And then I should like to see the
+blacksmiths swept away--quick--just like that! But why don't I do it?"
+
+"Because--because you can't, M'neer."
+
+"Quite right. For the same reason I have not yet corrected any of the
+wrongs in Africa. Nor in Asia; nor in America; nor in other countries
+that I might mention. But yesterday evening, when you were taken sick
+in the theatre, I brought you home with me and put you to bed. Then
+I sent a messenger to quiet your mother. That was my duty, wasn't it?
+
+"No thanks, my boy. It seemed to me to be my duty; and I did
+it--because I could. Whatever is impossible, is not my duty; and
+that's the reason I don't take those blacksmiths between my thumb
+and forefinger and transport them to some other clime. For the same
+reason I don't fret over doings in Africa. Impossible duty is no duty;
+and running after the impossible interferes with the performance of
+real duties. At school did you ever fail to know a lesson?"
+
+"Oh yes, very often! But not lately; because Femke----"
+
+"Leave Femke out of account for the present. I may say something
+about her another time. When you were neglecting your books at school,
+you were thinking of other things, things far removed from your work.
+
+"That is a mistake that many young people make--don't be offended:
+I did the same thing--and usually on account of laziness. It is more
+convenient to imagine one's self soaring over the distant mountain
+top than to lift a foot and step over the stone just in front of
+one. Of all the million things that you would like to do there are
+only a very few that you can do. Busy yourself with these few. That
+is the way to succeed. Whatever comes up, always ask: 'What is my
+immediate duty?' Will you promise to do this?"
+
+Walter gave Holsma his hand on it.
+
+"And you would like to know more, my boy? I would, too. What lies
+before you? Well, you are behind in your studies. Other boys of your
+age know more. We will speak of that again, however; for that is
+something to be attended to later, and does not come under the head of
+immediate duty. That smattering of Latin, for which you envy William,
+you can acquire in a few months, when once you've learned how to use
+your will. The enemies you have to fight now are quite different from
+the knights of your romances. Do not underestimate the difficulties
+you will have to contend with. That might result in your defeat. You
+must learn to use your intellectual faculties at will; and keep a firm
+grip on 'Fancy,' or else she will throw you head over heels. Dreaming
+is not living."
+
+Walter nodded assent.
+
+"True manliness," Holsma continued, "means, to do what has to be done,
+no difference how insignificant it may be. What would you think of a
+lot of knights, who let tramps beat them over the heads because their
+code of honor did not allow them to fight with tramps? You are going
+into business now: come to me in a month and tell me if you have kept
+your word. Then we will speak further; but--that first! Will you?"
+
+"Certainly I shall keep my word, M'neer. But, M'neer, may I ask----?"
+
+"About Femke? Well, that is a good, brave girl. She's a cousin
+of mine."
+
+"But how did she happen to be----?"
+
+"The young lady in the theatre wasn't Femke. That was Princess
+Erika. We wanted to see her because her ancestors were related to
+ours. You rogue, you! There was nothing special about that."
+
+"A real princess?"
+
+"Yes; and Femke is a real wash-girl. I hope that Princess Erika has as
+admirable a character as Femke. But don't attribute too much importance
+to this, my boy. Such differences in related families are of frequent
+occurrence, whether one notices them, or not. There was a time when
+Erika's forefathers dressed themselves in skins; and mine did the
+same. We don't know whether she is aware that she has relations here
+or not. Uncle Sybrand found out--well, he takes a sort of pleasure
+in tracing out the identity of opposites. Rightly understood, the
+world is smaller than you imagine; everything is a link in the same
+sequence. Who knows but that you may turn the course of history
+to-morrow, when you go to work for--what is the style of the firm?"
+
+"Ouwetyd & Kopperlith."
+
+"Yes, when you go to work for Ouwetyd & Kopperlith. But, whether it's
+to be an historical event, or not, perform your immediate duty. That
+is the chivalrous, manly thing for you to do--if you will take my
+advice. Will you?"
+
+"Yes, M'neer! But--Femke?"
+
+"There you go again! She has nothing to do with your immediate
+duty. The lady that you must attend upon and serve faithfully is--who?"
+
+"Do you mean 'Business'?"
+
+"Right. If you are determined to know more about Femke, I will tell
+you what she says. She says that for the present you must think of
+nothing but your work."
+
+"Oh, I will, I will!"
+
+"For about ten years."
+
+"Ten years? Ten?"
+
+"Yes, that is what she said when she heard how little you know and
+how little you can do."
+
+"Ten years?"
+
+"Yes, that is what she said. Perhaps eight, perhaps twelve, perhaps
+twenty. One cannot say exactly beforehand. You understand that,
+don't you?"
+
+"Ten years!"
+
+"So she said."
+
+"I will!"
+
+"Good. It will give me pleasure--and Femke, too. Don't imagine it
+will be particularly difficult. Ten years ago thousands began just
+where you will begin to-morrow; and they are still alive. So, you see,
+it can be done. Besides, think only of the first month; and then the
+time will seem shorter. I shall expect you to come to see me in about
+a month; then we shall have more to say."
+
+Before Walter left, he promised again to banish all boyish follies
+from his thoughts. But he put away the rosebuds; and he kept them.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30135 ***
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+</head>
+
+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30135 ***</div>
+
+    <div class="front">
+      <div class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <p class="aligncenter">
+          Walter Pieterse
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="titlePage">
+        <h1 class="docTitle">
+          Walter Pieterse
+        </h1>
+        <h2 class="docTitle">
+          A Story of Holland
+        </h2>
+        <h2 class="byline">
+          By<br /> <span class="docAuthor">Multatuli</span><br /> (Eduard Douwes
+          Dekker)<br /> Translated by<br /> <span class="docAuthor">Hubert Evans,
+          Ph.D.</span>
+        </h2>
+        <h2 class="docImprint">
+          New York<br /> Friderici &amp; Gareis<br /> 6 East Seventeenth Street
+        </h2>
+      </div>
+      <div class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <p class="aligncenter">
+          Copyright, 1904,<br /> By<br /> <span class="smallcaps">Friderici &amp;
+          Gareis</span> <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e127" href="#xd0e127">v</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Preface
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Most of us know that The Hague is somewhere in Holland; and we all
+          know that Queen Wilhelmina takes a beautiful picture; but to how many
+          of us has it occurred that the land of Spinoza and Rembrandt is still
+          running a literary shop?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How many of us have ever heard of Eduard Douwes Dekker? Very few, I
+          fear, except professional critics. And yet, the man who, forty years
+          ago, became famous as Multatuli (I have borne much), was not only the
+          greatest figure in the modern literature of the Netherlands, but one
+          of the most powerful and original writers in the literature of the
+          world. An English critic has called him the Heine of Holland; Anatole
+          France calls him the Voltaire of the Netherlands.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Eduard Douwes Dekker was born in 1820, at Amsterdam, his father being
+          the captain of a merchantman trading in the Dutch colonies. At the age
+          of eighteen Dekker sailed on his father&rsquo;s vessel for the East
+          Indies, determined to abandon the business career that had been mapped
+          out for him and enter the colonial service. In 1839 he received a
+          clerkship in the civil service at Batavia. He now remained in the
+          employ of the government for seventeen years, being promoted from one
+          grade to another until he was made Assistant Resident of Lebak in
+          1856. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e137" href="#xd0e137">vi</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In this important position he used his influence to better the
+          condition of the natives; but, to his sorrow, he soon found that he
+          did not have the support of his superiors. What he conceived to be
+          right clashed with the line of conduct he was expected to follow. In a
+          rash moment of &ldquo;righteous indignation&rdquo; he handed in his
+          resignation; and it was accepted.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This hasty step put an end to a brilliant political career and
+          entailed upon Dekker years of disappointment and hardship. Seeing that
+          he was pursuing the wrong method to help either the Javanese, or
+          himself, he immediately tried to get reinstated, but without success.
+          In 1857 he returned to Holland and applied to the home government,
+          hoping to be vindicated and restored to his post. Again he was
+          disappointed. The government offered him another desirable position;
+          but, as it was a matter of principle with Dekker, he declined it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When he saw that it was useless to importune the government further,
+          Dekker made his appeal to the people in &ldquo;Max Havelaar&rdquo;
+          (1860). The book was an instant success and made the name of Multatuli
+          famous. Through the perfidy of a supposed friend, however, Dekker
+          failed to get very substantial material rewards from this work. For
+          ten years yet he was struggling with poverty.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Bohemian life that Dekker was now compelled to live&mdash;his
+          family was on the sufferance of friends&mdash;estranged him from his
+          wife and strengthened what some might call an unfortunate&mdash;or, at
+          least, an untimely&mdash;literary friendship that Dekker had formed
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e146" href="#xd0e146">vii</a>]</span>with
+          a certain Miss Mimi Schepel, of The Hague. The spiritual affinity
+          between the two soon developed a passion that neither could resist.
+          This estimable lady, who afterwards became Dekker&rsquo;s second wife,
+          is still living, and has edited Dekker&rsquo;s letters in nine
+          volumes. Dekker died in February, 1887, at his home in
+          Nieder-Ingelheim, where he had lived for several years.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The &ldquo;Woutertje Pieterse&rdquo; story was first published in
+          Dekker&rsquo;s seven volume work entitled &ldquo;Ideen.&rdquo; Here it
+          is sandwiched in between miscellaneous sketches, essays and treatises,
+          being scattered all the way from Vol. I to Vol. VII. The story falls
+          naturally into two parts, of which the present volume is the first
+          part. The second part, written in a different key, deals with &ldquo;Walter&rsquo;s
+          Apprenticeship.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A good deal of the flax, or silk, of his Chinaman&rsquo;s pigtail, to
+          use Dekker&rsquo;s form of expression, I have unraveled as being
+          extraneous matter. However, despite these omissions, it is quite
+          possible that some very sensitive person may still find objectionable
+          allusions in the book. If so, I must refer that one to the shade of
+          Multatuli. From his own admission his shoulders were evidently broad;
+          and, no doubt, they will be able to bear the additional strain.
+        </p>
+        <p class="alignright">
+          <span class="smallcaps">Hubert Evans.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <span class="smallcaps">New York City</span>,
+        </p>
+        <p style="text-indent: 4em; ">
+          <i>November, 1904</i>. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e164"
+          href="#xd0e164">ix</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="toc" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Contents
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          &nbsp; <span class="tocPagenum">Page</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch1">Chapter I</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          The origin of the story: regarding poetry, incurable love, false hair,
+          and the hero of the story&mdash;The dangers of fame and the advantage
+          of the upper shelf&mdash;The Chinaman&rsquo;s pigtail, and the collar
+          of humanity <span class="tocPagenum"> 1</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch2">Chapter II</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          An Italian robber on the &ldquo;Buitensingel&rdquo; in Amsterdam&mdash;The
+          bitter suffering of the virtuous Amalia&mdash;Wax candles, the
+          palisades of morality&mdash;The cunning of the little Hallemans&mdash;The
+          limitations of space <span class="tocPagenum">9</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch3">Chapter III</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          The difference between a sugar bowl and a Bible&mdash;Leentje&rsquo;s
+          virtues and defects&mdash;An unfounded suspicion against Pennewip&rsquo;s
+          honor <span class="tocPagenum"> 18</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch4">Chapter IV</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          The profound silence of Juffrouw Laps&mdash;Stoffel&rsquo;s sermon&mdash;Walter&rsquo;s
+          fidelity to Glorioso&mdash;The last king of Athens&mdash;Ruined
+          stomachs and bursted ear-drums <span class="tocPagenum">24</span>
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e209" href="#xd0e209">x</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch5">Chapter V</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          How one may become a great man&mdash;The cleverness of M&rsquo;sieu
+          Millaire&mdash;Versifying and the art of classifying everything&mdash;Hobby-horses
+          <span class="tocPagenum"> 27</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch6">Chapter VI</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Preparations for a party&mdash;The assignment of r&ocirc;les&mdash;The
+          conflict between wishing and being&mdash;Some tricks of fancy&mdash;The
+          two sawmills&mdash;Amalia and the ducks <span class="tocPagenum">34</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch7">Chapter VII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Poetry and wigs&mdash;The vexation and despair of the latter <span
+          class="tocPagenum">42</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch8">Chapter VIII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          A tea-evening, and how it began&mdash;Some gaps in the author&rsquo;s
+          knowledge&mdash;Stoffel&rsquo;s zo&ouml;logical joke&mdash;The cause
+          of the last Punic war&mdash;And the advantage of smoking <span
+          class="tocPagenum">48</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch9">Chapter IX</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Echoes of the last Punic war&mdash;The defeat of Hannibal (Laps) by
+          Scipio (Pennewip) <span class="tocPagenum"> 61</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch10">Chapter X</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Causes of the tedious peace in Europe, showing the value of a &ldquo;tea-evening&rdquo;
+          as a study&mdash;Specimens of school-verse concluded&mdash;Suitable
+          for society poets and clever children <span class="tocPagenum">68</span>
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e264" href="#xd0e264">xi</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch11">Chapter XI</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Report on the condition of the leading characters after the
+          catastrophe&mdash;Walter again: a character-study <span
+          class="tocPagenum">75</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch12">Chapter XII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Leentje as a comforter and questioner&mdash;Prince Walter and his
+          dominions <span class="tocPagenum">80</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch13">Chapter XIII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Convincing proofs of Walter&rsquo;s improvement&mdash;His first
+          invitation&mdash;A study in love&mdash;Paradise and Peri <span
+          class="tocPagenum">87</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch14">Chapter XIV</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Great changes in the Pieterse family&mdash;Walter becomes
+          poet-laureate at the court of Juffrouw Laps&mdash;The mountains of
+          Asia&mdash;The bridge, Glorioso, and love&mdash;again <span
+          class="tocPagenum">102</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch15">Chapter XV</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Walter&rsquo;s dream&mdash;A swell coachman&mdash;Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s
+          difficulties <span class="tocPagenum">117</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch16">Chapter XVI</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Femke hunts for Walter, and finds him under peculiar circumstances&mdash;Her
+          adventures by the way <span class="tocPagenum">125</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch17">Chapter XVII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          The widower&rsquo;s birthday&mdash;Klaasje&rsquo;s poem, and how a
+          surprise may involve further surprises <span class="tocPagenum">132</span>
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e328" href="#xd0e328">xii</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch18">Chapter XVIII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Walter&rsquo;s recovery&mdash;The doctor&rsquo;s pictures&mdash;Amsterdam
+          dramaturgy <span class="tocPagenum"> 138</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch19">Chapter XIX</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Pastors, sermons, and Juffrouw Laps&mdash;Chocolate, timidity, and
+          love&mdash;The fire that didn&rsquo;t break out&mdash;Some details of
+          religious belief <span class="tocPagenum">150</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch20">Chapter XX</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Our hero calls on the doctor&mdash;Some strange happenings&mdash;How
+          Walter delivered his present <span class="tocPagenum">161</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch21">Chapter XXI</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Ophelia reaches her destination, and Femke becomes a queen&mdash;Walter&rsquo;s
+          first experience &ldquo;proposing&rdquo;&mdash;Choosing a profession
+          <span class="tocPagenum">170</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch22">Chapter XXII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Walter enters the real world&mdash;The firm Motto, Business &amp; Co.&mdash;The
+          technique of the novel&mdash;And the snuff of the Romans <span
+          class="tocPagenum">180</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch23">Chapter XXIII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          How one may become a &ldquo;prodigal&rdquo; by studying the story of
+          the Prodigal Son <span class="tocPagenum"> 194</span> <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e383" href="#xd0e383">xiii</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch24">Chapter XXIV</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Why Walter did not see Femke&mdash;The worldliness of a servant of the
+          church&mdash;The secret of Father Jansen&rsquo;s deafness in his left
+          ear <span class="tocPagenum"> 201</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch25">Chapter XXV</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Kings and doughnuts&mdash;How the masses soar and fall&mdash;Walter&rsquo;s
+          cowardice and remorse of conscience&mdash;A good remedy for the blues
+          <span class="tocPagenum"> 211</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch26">Chapter XXVI</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Our hero retires thinking of Princess Erika, to be aroused by robbers
+          and murderers, who are in collusion with Juffrouw Laps <span
+          class="tocPagenum">225</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch27">Chapter XXVII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Walter alone with a pious lady, or Juffrouw Laps on the war-path <span
+          class="tocPagenum">240</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch28">Chapter XXVIII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          A midnight kiss&mdash;A wonderful statue in the &ldquo;Juniper Berry&rdquo;&mdash;Republicans
+          and True Dutch hearts&mdash;A sailor with&mdash;Femke? <span
+          class="tocPagenum"> 245</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch29">Chapter XXIX</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Sunrise on the &ldquo;Dam&rdquo;&mdash;An exciting encounter with a
+          water-nymph&mdash;A letter from heaven&mdash;America, a haven for
+          prodigal sons <span class="tocPagenum">260</span> <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="xd0e438" href="#xd0e438">xiv</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch30">Chapter XXX</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          A message from Femke, which Walter fails to understand&mdash;Dr.
+          Holsma to the rescue&mdash;Femke and family portraits&mdash;Femke, and
+          once more Femke <span class="tocPagenum"> 270</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch31">Chapter XXXI</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Stoffel&rsquo;s view of the matter&mdash;Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s
+          distress, and Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s elation&mdash;Elephants and
+          butterflies, and Kaatje&rsquo;s conception of heredity <span
+          class="tocPagenum"> 279</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch32">Chapter XXXII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          A theatrical performance under difficulties&mdash;The contest between
+          Napoleon and King Minos of Crete&mdash;A Goddess on Mt. Olympus&mdash;Kisses
+          and rosebuds <span class="tocPagenum">286</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch33">Chapter XXXIII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          <span class="smallcaps">Conclusion</span> <span class="tocPagenum">298</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+    </div>
+    <p>
+      <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb1" href="#pb1">1</a>]</span>
+    </p>
+    <div class="body">
+      <div id="ch1" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="super">
+          Walter Pieterse
+        </h2>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter I
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          I don&rsquo;t know the year; but, since the reader will be interested
+          to know the time when this story begins, I will give him a few facts
+          to serve as landmarks.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          My mother complained that provisions were dear, and fuel as well. So
+          it must have been before the discovery of Political Economy. Our
+          servant-girl married the barber&rsquo;s assistant, who had only one
+          leg. &ldquo;Such a saving of shoe-leather,&rdquo; the good little soul
+          argued. But from this fact one might infer that the science of
+          Political Economy had already been discovered.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At all events, it was a long time ago. Amsterdam had no sidewalks,
+          import duties were still levied, in some civilized countries there
+          were still gallows, and people didn&rsquo;t die every day of
+          nervousness. Yes, it was a long time ago.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The <i>Hartenstraat</i>! I have never comprehended why this street
+          should be called thus. Perhaps it is an error, and one ought to write
+          <i>Hertenstraat</i>, or something else. I have never found more
+          &ldquo;heartiness&rdquo; there than elsewhere; besides, &ldquo;harts&rdquo;
+          were <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb2" href="#pb2">2</a>]</span>not
+          particularly plentiful, although the place could boast of a poulterer
+          and dealer in venison.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I haven&rsquo;t been there for a long time, and I only remember that
+          the <i>Straat</i> connects two main canal-streets, canals that I would
+          fill up if I had the power to make Amsterdam one of the most beautiful
+          cities of Europe.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          My predilection for Amsterdam, our metropolis, does not make me blind
+          to her faults. Among these I would mention first her complete
+          inability to serve as the scene of things romantic. One finds here no
+          masked Dominos on the street, the common people are everywhere open to
+          inspection, no Ghetto, no Templebar, no Chinese quarter, no mysterious
+          courtyard. Whoever commits murder is hanged; and the girls are called
+          &ldquo;Mietje&rdquo; and &ldquo;Jansje&rdquo;&mdash;everything prose.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It requires courage to begin a story in a place ending with &ldquo;dam.&rdquo;
+          There it is difficult to have &ldquo;Emeranties&rdquo; and &ldquo;H&eacute;loises&rdquo;;
+          but even these would be of little use, since all of these belles have
+          already been profaned.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How do the French authors manage, though, to dress up their &ldquo;Margots&rdquo;
+          and &ldquo;Marions&rdquo; as ideals and protect their &ldquo;Henris&rdquo;
+          and <span class="corr" id="xd0e511" title="Not in source">&ldquo;</span>Ernestes<span
+          class="corr" id="xd0e514" title="Not in source">&rdquo;</span> from
+          the trite and trivial? These last remind one of <i lang="fr">M&rsquo;sieu
+          Henri</i> or <i lang="fr"> M&rsquo;sieu Erneste</i> just about like
+          our castle embankments remind one of filthy water.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Goethe was a courageous man: Gretchen, Kl&auml;rchen&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But I, in the Hartenstraat!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          However, I am not writing a romance; and even if <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb3" href="#pb3">3</a>]</span>I should write one, I don&rsquo;t
+          see why I shouldn&rsquo;t publish it as a true story. For it is a true
+          story, the story of one who in his youth was in love with a sawmill
+          and had to endure this torture for a long time.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For love is torture, even if it is only love for a sawmill.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It will be seen that the story is going to be quite simple, in fact
+          too frail to stand alone. So here and there I am going to plait
+          something in with the thread of the narrative, just as the Chinaman
+          does with his pigtail when it is too thin. He has no <i lang="fr">Eau
+          de Lob</i> or oil from Macassar&mdash;but I admit that I have never
+          found at Macassar any berries which yielded the required oil.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To begin, in the Hartenstraat was a book-shop and circulating library.
+          A small boy with a city complexion stood on the step and seemed to be
+          unable to open the door. It was evident that he was trying to do
+          something that was beyond his strength.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He stretched out his hand towards the door knob repeatedly, but every
+          time he interrupted this motion either by stopping to pull
+          unnecessarily at a big square-cut collar that rested on his shoulders
+          like a yoke, or by uselessly lifting his hand to screen an ingenuous
+          cough.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was apparently lost in the contemplation of the pictures that
+          covered the panes of glass in the door, turning them into a model
+          chart of inconceivable animals, four-cornered trees and impossible
+          soldiers. He was glancing continually to one side, like a criminal who
+          fears that he is going to be caught in the act. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb4" href="#pb4">4</a>]</span>It was manifest that he had
+          something in view which must be concealed from passers-by, and from
+          posterity, for that matter. His left hand was thrust under the skirts
+          of his little coat, clutching convulsively at something concealed in
+          his trousers pocket. To look at him one would have thought that Walter
+          contemplated a burglary, or something of the kind.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For his name was Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It is a fortunate thing that it occurred to me to relate his history;
+          and now I consider it my duty to report that he was entirely innocent
+          of any burglarious or murderous intentions.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I only wish I could clear him of other sins as easily as this. The
+          object he was turning and twisting in his left breeches pocket was not
+          a house-key, nor a jimmy, nor a club, nor a tomahawk, nor any infernal
+          machine: It was a small piece of paper containing fourteen stivers,
+          which he had raised on his New Testament with Psalms at the grocer&rsquo;s
+          on the &ldquo;Ouwebrug&rdquo;; and the thing that held him fast on the
+          Hartenstraat was nothing more or less than his entrance into the magic
+          world of romance. He was going to read &ldquo;Glorioso.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Glorioso! Reader, there are many imitations, but only one Glorioso.
+          All the Rinaldos and Fra Diavolos are not to <span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e554" title="Not in source">be</span> mentioned in the same
+          breath with Glorioso, this incomparable hero who carried away
+          countesses by the dozen, plundered popes and cardinals as if they were
+          ordinary fallible people, and made a testament-thief of Walter
+          Pieterse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To be sure, Glorioso was not to blame for this last, certainly not.
+          One ought to be ashamed to be a <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb5"
+          href="#pb5">5</a>]</span>hero, or a genius, or even a robber, if on
+          this account one is to be held responsible for all the crimes that may
+          be committed years afterwards in the effort to get possession of one&rsquo;s
+          history.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I myself object to any accusation of complicity in those evil deeds
+          that are committed after my death in quenching the thirst for
+          knowledge of my fate. Indeed, I shall never be deterred from a famous
+          career merely by the thought that some one may sell the New Testament
+          to get hold of the &ldquo;Life and Deeds of Multatuli.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You rascal, what are you loitering around here for? If you want
+          anything, come in; if you don&rsquo;t, make yourself scarce.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And now Walter had to go in, or else abandon his cherished Glorioso.
+          But the man who bent over the counter and twisted himself like a crane
+          to open the door and snarl these words at our young hero did not have
+          a face that advised anything like turning back. He was angry. At first
+          Walter had not had the courage to go in; now he did not dare to turn
+          back. He felt himself drawn in. It was as if the book-shop swallowed
+          him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Glorioso, if you please, M&rsquo;neer, and here&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          He drew that infernal machine from his pocket. &ldquo;And here is
+          money&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For he had learned from his schoolmates, who had infected him with
+          this craving for romance, that at the circulating library strangers
+          must deposit a forfeit.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The shopman seemed to regard himself as &ldquo;sufficiently protected&rdquo;
+          by the sum produced. He took <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb6"
+          href="#pb6">6</a>]</span>down a small volume, which was greasy and
+          well worn, and bore both within and without the traces of much unclean
+          enjoyment.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I am certain that the &ldquo;Sermons of Pastor Splitvesel,&rdquo;
+          which stood undisturbed on the top shelf and looked down
+          contemptuously on the literature of the day, would have been ashamed
+          to bring their spotless binding into contact with so much
+          uncleanliness. But it is not difficult to remain clean in the upper
+          row. I find, therefore, that the &ldquo;sermons&rdquo; were unjust;
+          and the same is true of many sermons.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After Walter had given his name to the man in a trembling voice, he
+          stuck the reward of his misdeed under his coat and hurried out the
+          door, like a cat making away with the prey for which it has waited for
+          hours.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter ran and ran, and did not know where to go. He couldn&rsquo;t go
+          home; he was watched too closely there,&mdash;which was not very
+          difficult, as the space was rather limited.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He selected quiet streets and finally came to a gateway that he
+          remembered to have seen several times. It was a low, smooth arch,
+          where it always smelled like ashes. Here, as a truant, he had taken
+          that leap! He was with Franz Halleman, who had dared him to cut sacred
+          studies and jump from the top of this arch. Walter did it just because
+          little Franz had questioned his courage.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To this escapade he was indebted for his great familiarity with the
+          prophet Habakkuk, whose prophecies he had to copy twelve times as a
+          penalty. Further, the sprain that he got in his big toe on that <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb7" href="#pb7">7</a>]</span>occasion gave
+          him a good barometer in that organ, which always warned him of
+          approaching rain.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In a certain sense Habakkuk is to be regarded as marking a transition
+          in Walter&rsquo;s life, <i>viz.</i> from nursery rhymes to books which
+          deal with big people. For some time he had felt his admiration for
+          &ldquo;brave Heinriche&rdquo; to be growing; and he was disgusted with
+          the paper peaches that are distributed as the reward of diligence in
+          the beautiful stories. Of any other peaches he had no knowledge, as
+          the real article was never seen in the houses he visited.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Nothing was more natural than that he should most ardently long to
+          talk with the older schoolboys about the wonders of the real world,
+          where people ride in coaches, devastate cities, marry princesses, and
+          stay up in the evening till after 10 o&rsquo;clock&mdash;even if it
+          isn&rsquo;t a birthday. And then at the table one helps one&rsquo;s
+          self, and may select just whatever one wants to eat. So think
+          children.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Every boy has his heroic age, and humanity, as a whole, has worn the
+          little coat with the big collar.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But how far can this comparison be carried? Where does the identity
+          stop? Will the human race become mature? and more than mature?&mdash;old?
+          Feeble and childish?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How old are we now? Are we boys, youths, men? Or are we already&mdash;&mdash;?
+          No, that would be too unpleasant to think of.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Let us suppose that we are just in the exuberance of youth! We are
+          then no longer children exactly, and still we may hope something of
+          the future.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, of the future,&mdash;when this stifling school atmosphere <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb8" href="#pb8">8</a>]</span>has been blown
+          away. When we shall take pleasure in the short jacket of the boy that
+          comes after us; when people will be at liberty to be born without any
+          legal permit, and will not be reviled for it; when humanity will speak
+          one language; when metaphysics and religion have been forgotten, and
+          knowledge of nature takes the place of noble birth. When we shall have
+          broken away from the nursery stories.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There is some silk for my Chinaman&rsquo;s pigtail. Some will say it
+          is only flax. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb9" href="#pb9">9</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch2" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter II
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Walter thought neither of the heroic age nor of Chinese cues. Without
+          any feeling for the beauty of the landscape, he hurried along till he
+          came to a bridge that spanned a marshy ditch. After looking about
+          carefully to assure himself that he was alone, he selected this bridge
+          for his reading-room, and proceeded at once to devour his robber
+          undisturbed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For a moment I felt tempted to make the reader a participant of Walter&rsquo;s
+          pleasure by giving a sketch of the immortal work that chained the boy&rsquo;s
+          attention. But aside from the fact that I am not very well versed in
+          Glorioso&mdash;which fact of itself, though, would not prevent me from
+          speaking about him&mdash;I have many other things of a more urgent
+          nature to relate, and am compelled therefore to take the reader
+          directly to the Hartenstraat, hoping that he will be able to find his
+          way just as well as if he had crossed the Ouwebrug&mdash;the old
+          bridge.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Suffice it to say that Walter found the book &ldquo;very nice.&rdquo;
+          The virtuous Amalia, in the glare of flaring torches, at the death-bed
+          of her revered mother, in the dismal cypress valley, swearing that her
+          ardent love for the noble robber&mdash;through the horrible trapdoor,
+          the rusty chains, her briny tears&mdash;in a word, it was stirring!
+          And there was more morality in it, too, than in all the insipid
+          imitations. All the members of <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb10"
+          href="#pb10">10</a>]</span>the band were married and wore gloves. In
+          the cave was an altar, with wax tapers; and those chapters in which
+          girls were abducted always ended with a row of most decorous periods,
+          or with mysterious dashes&mdash;which Walter vainly held up to the
+          light in his effort to learn more about it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He read to<span class="corr" id="xd0e622" title="Source: ,">:</span>
+          &ldquo;Die, betrayer!&rdquo; Then it was dark, and he knew that it was
+          time to go home. He was supposed to be taking a walk with the Halleman
+          boys,&mdash;who were &ldquo;such respectable children.&rdquo; With
+          regret he closed the precious volume and hurried away as fast as he
+          could, for he was afraid he was going to get a whipping for staying
+          away so long.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You will never get permission again&rdquo;&mdash;thus he was
+          always threatened on such occasions. But he understood, of course,
+          that they didn&rsquo;t mean it. He knew too well that people like to
+          get rid of the children for a while when they are a little short of
+          space at home. And then the little Hallemans were &ldquo;such
+          extraordinarily respectable children; they lived next to a house with
+          a portico, and recently they had taken off their little caps so
+          politely.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Now, I don&rsquo;t believe that the Hallemans were any more
+          respectable than other boys of Walter&rsquo;s acquaintance; and, as I
+          would like to give some reasons for my belief, I am going to relate an
+          incident that had happened some time before this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter never got any pocket-money. His mother considered this
+          unnecessary, because he got at home everything that he needed. It
+          mortified him to have to wait for an invitation to join in a game of
+          ball with his companions, and then be reminded that he <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb11" href="#pb11">11</a>]</span>had
+          contributed nothing towards buying the ball. In Walter&rsquo;s time
+          that useful instrument of sport cost three doits&mdash;just a trifle.
+          Now I suppose they are more expensive&mdash;but no, cheaper, of
+          course, on account of Political Economy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On many occasions he was depressed by reason of this lack of money. We
+          shall see later whether what his mother said was true, or not: that he
+          received at home everything he needed. It is certain that at home he
+          never had the privilege of doing with some little thing as he pleased,
+          which is very nice for children. And for grown-up people, too.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Hallemans&mdash;who were so especially respectable&mdash;gave him
+          to understand that they had no desire to bear all the expenses. Franz
+          calculated that Walter&rsquo;s friendship had already cost them nine
+          stivers, which I find high&mdash;not for the friendship, but merely as
+          an estimate. Gustave said it was still more; but that is a detail.
+          Gustave, too, had let him have four slate pencils, that he might court
+          &ldquo;the tall Cecilia,&rdquo; who wouldn&rsquo;t have anything to do
+          with him because he wore a jacket stuck in his trousers&mdash;the kind
+          small boys wore then. She accepted the pencils, and then made Gustave
+          a present of them for a kiss.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reproaches of the little Hallemans, who were so very respectable,
+          almost drove Walter to despair.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I have told my mother, but she won&rsquo;t give me anything.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The little Hallemans, who were so respectable, said: &ldquo;What&rsquo;s
+          that you&rsquo;re giving us? You&rsquo;re a parasite.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This was the first time Walter had ever heard the <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb12" href="#pb12">12</a>]</span>word, but he knew what it meant.
+          Nothing sharpens the wits like bitterness of heart.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A parasite, a parasite&mdash;I&rsquo;m a parasite,&rdquo; and
+          he ran off screaming, making a detour in order to avoid the street
+          where Cecilia&rsquo;s father had a second-hand store. Oh, if she had
+          seen him running through the street crying like a baby&mdash;that
+          would have been worse than the breeches pulled up over his jacket!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A parasite, a parasite!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He met lots of grown-up people who perhaps were parasites, but they
+          were not bawling on this account.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Parasite!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He saw a policeman, and caught his breath when he got by him,
+          surprised that the man hadn&rsquo;t arrested him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Parasite!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then came a street-sweeper with his cart, who seemed to rattle that
+          hateful word after him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Our little sufferer remembered that the Halleman boys had once told
+          him what a fortune could be made by peddling peppermint drops. For
+          twenty-four stivers one could buy a big sack full. By selling so and
+          so many for a doit, the profit would be enormous. If one only had the
+          capital to begin! The Hallemans had calculated everything very
+          exactly; for they were not only very respectable, but also very
+          cunning. Cunningness and respectability usually go hand in hand. They
+          had said, all that was needed was the capital. They would attend to
+          laying in the stock, and would assume all responsibility for the sale
+          of the same. If Walter would chip in just a florin, they could raise
+          the rest and all would go well. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb13"
+          href="#pb13">13</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Parasite.... Parasite....
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter slipped a florin from his mother&rsquo;s box of savings and
+          brought it to the Halleman boys, who were so remarkably respectable.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where did you get it?&rdquo; asked Gustave, but careful not to
+          give Walter time to answer, or to fall into an embarrassing silence.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where did you get it?&rdquo;&mdash;without any interrogation
+          point&mdash;&ldquo;fine! Franz and I will each add one like it. That&rsquo;ll
+          make twenty-four, and then we&rsquo;ll buy the peppermints. There&rsquo;s
+          a factory on the <i> Rosengracht</i>&mdash;such a sack for four
+          shillings. Franz and I will do everything. We&rsquo;ll have more
+          opportunity at school, you understand. Christian Kloskamp has already
+          ordered twelve; he&rsquo;ll pay after the holidays. We&rsquo;ll take
+          all the trouble; you needn&rsquo;t do anything, Walter&mdash;and then
+          an equal divide. You can depend upon it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter went home and dreamed of unheard-of wealth. He would put a
+          dollar in his mother&rsquo;s savings-bank, and buy for Cecilia a lead
+          pencil from the man who had picked holes in the wood-work of his wagon
+          with them. So strong were they! That would be something entirely
+          different from those slate pencils; and if the tall Cecilia still
+          wouldn&rsquo;t have him, then&mdash;but Walter did not care to think
+          further. There are abysses along the path of fancy that we do not dare
+          to sound. We see them instinctively, close the eyes and&mdash;I only
+          know that on that evening Walter fell asleep feeling good, expecting
+          soon to have a good conscience over his little theft and hoping that
+          Cecilia would give him a happy heart. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb14" href="#pb14">14</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Alas, alas! Little Walter had made his calculations without taking
+          into consideration the slyness and respectability of the Hallemans.
+          They lay in wait for him the next day as he came from school. Walter,
+          who had painted to himself how they would be panting under the weight
+          of the great sack; Walter, who was so anxious to know if Christian
+          Kloskamp had taken what he had ordered; Walter, who was burning with
+          curiosity as to the success of the venture&mdash;oh, he was bitterly
+          disappointed. Gustave Halleman not only carried no sack of
+          peppermints. What&rsquo;s more, he had a very grave face. And little
+          Franz looked like virtue itself.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, how is everything?&rdquo; Walter asked, but without
+          saying a word. He was too curious not to ask, and too fearful to
+          express the question otherwise than by opening his mouth and poking
+          out his face.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you know, Walter, we&rsquo;ve been thinking about
+          the matter; and there&rsquo;s a lot to be said against the plan.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Poor Walter! In that moment both his heart and his conscience suffered
+          shipwreck. Away with your dreams of ethical vindication, away with the
+          gaping money-boxes of mothers&mdash;away, lead pencil that was to bore
+          a hole in the hard heart of the tall Cecilia&mdash;gone, gone, gone,
+          everything lost.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You see, Walter, the mint-drops might melt.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Y-e-s,&rdquo; sobbed Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And Christian Kloskamp, who ordered twelve&mdash;don&rsquo;t
+          you know&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Y-e-s.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I wonder if Christian was likely to melt too. <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb15" href="#pb15">15</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He is leaving school, and will certainly not return after the
+          holidays.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;H-e-e i-i-s?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and for that reason, and also because there are not
+          anything like so many to the pound as we had thought. Mint-drops are
+          heavy. We&rsquo;ve calculated everything, Franz and I.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; added little Franz, with the seriousness of one
+          giving important advice in a time of great danger, &ldquo;the things
+          are very heavy at present. Feel this one; but you must give it back to
+          me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter weighed the mint-drop on his finger and returned it
+          conscientiously.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He found it heavy. Ah, in this moment he was so depressed that he
+          would have found everything heavy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Franz stuck the piece of candy into his mouth, and sucking at it
+          continued:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, really, very heavy. These are the English drops, you know.
+          And then there is something else, too, isn&rsquo;t there, Gustave? The
+          propriety, the respectability! Tell him, Gustave.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The respectability,&rdquo; cried Gustave, significantly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;We mean the respectability of it,&rdquo; repeated Franz, as if
+          he were explaining something.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter looked first from one to the other, and did not seem to
+          comprehend.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You tell him, Gustave.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Walter, Franz will tell you,&rdquo; said Gustave.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Walter, our papa is a deacon, and carries a portfolio, and
+          there where we live is a&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; cried Gustave, &ldquo;there on the <i>Gracht</i>,
+          you know, lives M&rsquo;neer Krulewinkel. He has a villa&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb16" href="#pb16">16</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;With a portico,&rdquo; added Franz.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s just on account of our standing&mdash;don&rsquo;t
+          you see, Walter? And when a visitor comes our mother brings out the
+          wine.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Maderia, Maderia! And our tobacco-box is silver, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, Franz, it isn&rsquo;t silver; but, Walter, it looks just
+          like silver.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Our poor little sinner understood all of this, but he failed to see
+          what bearing it might have on his own disappointed hopes. He
+          stuttered: &ldquo;Yes, Gustave&mdash;yes, Franz&mdash;but the
+          peppermint&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;We just wanted to tell you that we are very respectable, don&rsquo;t
+          you see?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Gustave.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And well-behaved.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Y-e-e-s, Franz.&rdquo; Poor Walter!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And then as you said you never got any pocket-money&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Walter&mdash;and don&rsquo;t you know? Because our papa is
+          so respectable&mdash;when winter comes you can see how he looks after
+          the orphans.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and he rings at every door. And&mdash;and&mdash;we are
+          afraid, that you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The florin&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The florin! You understand?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That you didn&rsquo;t get it&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That you didn&rsquo;t get it honestly. That&rsquo;s it,&rdquo;
+          said Franz, sticking another mint-drop into his mouth, perhaps to
+          brace himself up.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was out at last. Poor, miserable Walter. <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb17" href="#pb17">17</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And on that account, Walter, we would rather not keep the
+          money, but just divide now&mdash;equally, as we all agreed.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; cried Gustave, &ldquo;divide equally. The work&mdash;we&mdash;you
+          understand?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          They divided the profits. And the Hallemans were sleek about it.
+          Twenty-four stivers; three into twenty-four goes eight times,
+          therefore&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter received eight stivers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see,&rdquo; explained Gustave, &ldquo;we couldn&rsquo;t
+          do it, because our papa is a deacon.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes&mdash;and our tobacco-box, even if it isn&rsquo;t pure
+          silver, it&rsquo;s just like silver.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          My lack of faith in the extreme respectability of the Hallemans is
+          based upon the foregoing story; and I am inclined to think that all
+          this &ldquo;respectability&rdquo; of which Walter heard so much at
+          home was only an excuse on his mother&rsquo;s part to get him out of
+          the way. For there was a lack of room. If she had wanted to use Walter
+          about the house, it is questionable if she had discovered anything
+          especially respectable about those boys.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Many laws and most customs have their origin in a &ldquo;lack of room&rdquo;&mdash;in
+          the intellect, in one&rsquo;s character, in the house or flat, in the
+          fields, in the city.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This applies to the preference for the right hand&mdash;a result of
+          crowding at the table&mdash;to the institution of marriage, and to
+          many things lying between these extremes. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb18" href="#pb18">18</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch3" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter III
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          We will not try to explain further this fruitful principle of &ldquo;limitation
+          of space.&rdquo; Walter knew the fruit of it, even if he failed to
+          recognize the origin. He was not worried so much by the mere coming
+          home as by the punishment he expected to receive as soon as that New
+          Testament should be missed. He had returned from his little excursion
+          into the country with Glorioso, and now in Amsterdam again the memory
+          of his recent offense&mdash;or shall I say the anticipation of what
+          was coming?&mdash;lay heavily on his mind.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If we could think away all the results of crime committed, there would
+          be very little left of what we call conscience.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Walter consoled himself with the thought that it wasn&rsquo;t a
+          thimble this time. The testament will not be missed at once, he
+          reflected, because Sunday was a long way off, and no one would ask
+          about it during the week.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No, it was not a thimble, or a knitting-needle, or a sugar-bowl, or
+          anything in daily use.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When our hero got home, he stuck his greasy Glorioso under Leentje&rsquo;s
+          sewing-table&mdash;the same Leentje who had sewed up his breeches
+          after that wonderful leap, so that his mother never found out about
+          it. She <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb19" href="#pb19">19</a>]</span>went
+          down to her grave in ignorance of these torn breeches.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Leentje was employed to patch breeches and such things. She
+          received for this seven stivers a week, and every evening a slice of
+          bread and butter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Long after the Habakkuk period, Walter often thought of her humble
+          &ldquo;Good-evening, Juffrouw; good-evening, M&rsquo;neer and the
+          young Juffrouwen; good-evening, Walter,&rdquo; etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, Walter&rsquo;s mother was called Juffrouw, on account of the
+          shoe-business. For Juffrouw is the title of women of the lower middle
+          classes, while plain working women are called simply Vrouw. Mevrouw is
+          the title of women of the better classes. And so it is in the
+          Netherlands till to-day: The social structure is a series of classes,
+          graduated in an ascending scale. Single ladies are also called
+          Juffrouw, so that Juffrouw may mean either a young lady or a young
+          matron&mdash;who need not necessarily be so young. The young
+          Juffrouwen were Walter&rsquo;s sisters, who had learned how to dance.
+          His brother had been called M&rsquo;neer since his appointment as
+          assistant at the &ldquo;intermediate school,&rdquo; a sort of charity
+          school now no longer in existence. His mother had spliced his jacket
+          that he might command the respect of the boys, and remarked that the
+          name &ldquo;Stoffel&rdquo; scarcely suited him now. This explains why
+          Leentje addressed him as M&rsquo;neer. To Walter she simply said
+          Walter, for he was only a small boy. Walter owed her three stivers,
+          or, to be exact, twenty-six doits, which he never did pay her. For,
+          years afterward, when he <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb20"
+          href="#pb20">20</a>]</span>wanted to return the money to her, there
+          were no more doits; and, besides, Leentje was dead.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This pained him very much, for he had thought a great deal of her. She
+          was ugly, even dirty, and was stoop-shouldered, too. Stoffel, the
+          schoolmaster, said that she had an evil tongue: She was thought to
+          have started the report that he had once eaten strawberries with sugar
+          in the &ldquo;Netherlands.&rdquo; This was a small garden-restaurant.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I am willing to admit the truth of all this; but what more could one
+          expect for seven stivers and a slice of bread and butter? I have known
+          duchesses who had larger incomes; and still in social intercourse they
+          were not agreeable.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Leentje was stooped as a result of continuous sewing. Her needle kept
+          the whole family clothed; and she knew how to make two jackets and a
+          cap out of an old coat and still have enough pieces left for the
+          gaiters that Stoffel needed for his final examination. He fell through
+          on account of a mistake in Euclid.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With the exception of Walter nobody was satisfied with Leentje. I
+          believe they were afraid of spoiling her by too much kindness. Walter&rsquo;s
+          sisters were always talking about &ldquo;class&rdquo; and &ldquo;rank,&rdquo;
+          saying that &ldquo;everyone must stay in his place.&rdquo; This was
+          for Leentje. Her father had been a cobbler who soled shoes, while the
+          father of the young Juffrouwen had had a store in which &ldquo;shoes
+          from Paris&rdquo; were sold. A big difference. For it is much grander
+          to sell something that somebody else has made than to make something
+          one&rsquo;s self. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb21" href="#pb21">21</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mother thought that Leentje might be a little cleaner. But I am
+          going to speak of the price again, and of the difficulty of washing
+          when one has no time, no soap, no room, and no water. At that time
+          waterpipes had not been laid, and, if they had been, it&rsquo;s a
+          question if the water had ever got as far as Leentje.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          So, everyone but Walter had a spite against Leentje. He liked her, and
+          was more intimate with her than with anyone else in the house, perhaps
+          because the others could not endure him, and there was nothing left
+          for him to do but to seek consolation from her. For every feeling
+          finds expression, and nothing is lost, either in the moral or in the
+          material world. I could say more about this, but I prefer to drop the
+          subject now, for the organ-grinder under my window is driving me
+          crazy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s mother called him, &ldquo;That boy.&rdquo; His brothers&mdash;there
+          were more beside Stoffel&mdash;affirmed that he was treacherous and
+          morose, because he spoke little and didn&rsquo;t care for &ldquo;marbles.&rdquo;
+          When he did say anything, they attributed to him a relationship with
+          King Solomon&rsquo;s cat. His sisters declared he was a little devil.
+          But Walter stood well with Leentje. She consoled him, and considered
+          it disgraceful that the family didn&rsquo;t make more out of such a
+          boy as Walter. She had seen that he was not a child like ordinary
+          children. And I should scarcely take the trouble to write his story if
+          he had been.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Up to a short time after his trip to Hartenstraat, Ash Gate and the
+          old bridge, Leentje was Walter&rsquo;s sole confidant. To her he read
+          the verses that slender <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb22"
+          href="#pb22">22</a>]</span>Cecilia had disdained. To her he poured out
+          his grief over the injustice of his teacher Pennewip, who gave him
+          only &ldquo;Fair,&rdquo; while to that red-headed Keesje he gave
+          &ldquo;Very good&rdquo; underscored&mdash;Keesje who couldn&rsquo;t
+          work an example by himself and always &ldquo;stuck&rdquo; in &ldquo;Holland
+          Counts.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Poor boy,&rdquo; said Leentje, &ldquo;you&rsquo;re right about
+          it.&rdquo; They went over into the Bavarian house. It&rsquo;s a
+          disgrace! And to save a doit on the pound.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She claimed that Keesje&rsquo;s father, who was a butcher, let
+          Pennewip have meat at a reduced price, and that this was what was the
+          matter with all those Holland counts and their several houses.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Later Walter looked upon this as a &ldquo;white lie,&rdquo; for
+          Pennewip, when examined closely, didn&rsquo;t look like a man who
+          would carry on a crooked business with beefsteak. But in those days he
+          accepted gladly this frivolous suspicion against the man&rsquo;s honor
+          as a plaster for his own, which had been hurt by the favoritism
+          towards Keesje. Whenever our honor is touched, or what we regard as
+          our honor, then we think little of the honor of others.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When his brothers jeered at him and called him &ldquo;Professor
+          Walter,&rdquo; or when his sisters scolded him for his &ldquo;idiotic
+          groping among the bed-curtains,&rdquo; or when his mother punished him
+          for eating up the rice that she intended to serve again &ldquo;to-morrow&rdquo;&mdash;then
+          it was always Leentje who restored the equilibrium of his soul and
+          banished his cares, just as, with her inimitable stitches, she
+          banished the &ldquo;triangles&rdquo; from his jacket and breeches.
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb23" href="#pb23">23</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Ugly, dirty, evil-tongued Leentje, how Walter did like you! What
+          consolation radiated from her thimble, what encouragement even in the
+          sight of her tapeline! And what a lullaby in those gentle words:
+          &ldquo;There now, you have a needle and thread and scraps. Sew your
+          little sack for your pencils and tell me more of all those counts, who
+          always passed over from one house into another.&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb24" href="#pb24">24</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch4" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter IV
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          I don&rsquo;t know what prophet Walter got as punishment for that
+          pawned Bible. The pastor came to preach a special sermon. The man was
+          simply horrified at such impiousness. Juffrouw Laps, who lived in the
+          lower anteroom, had heard about it too. She was very pious and
+          asserted that such a boy was destined for the gallows.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;One begins with the Bible,&rdquo; she said significantly,
+          &ldquo;and ends with something else.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No one has ever found out just what that &ldquo;something else&rdquo;
+          is which follows a beginning with the Bible. I don&rsquo;t think she
+          knew herself, and that she said it to make people believe that she
+          possessed much wisdom and knew more about the world than she gave
+          utterance to. Now, I admit that I have no respect for wisdom that
+          cannot express itself in intelligible words, and, if it had been my
+          affair, I should have very promptly drawn a tight rein on Juffrouw
+          Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel delivered an exhortation in which he brought out all that had
+          been forgotten by the preacher. He spoke of Korah, Dathan and Abiram,
+          who had erred similarly to Walter and had been sent to an early grave
+          for their sins. He said too, that the honor of the family had been
+          lost at the &ldquo;Ouwebrug,&rdquo; that it was his duty, &ldquo;as
+          the eldest son of an irreproachable widow and third assistant at the
+          intermediate school, to take care of the honor of the house&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb25" href="#pb25">25</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of Bavaria,&rdquo; said Leentje softly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That &ldquo;a marriage, or any other <span class="corr" id="xd0e857"
+          title="Source: arrangemnet">arrangement</span> for the girls, would be
+          frustrated by Walter&rsquo;s offence, for no one would have anything
+          to do with girls who&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In short, Stoffel accented the fact that it was &ldquo;a disgrace,&rdquo;
+          and that &ldquo;he would never be able to look anyone in the face who
+          knew of this crime.&rdquo; He remarked distinctly that the schoolboys
+          must know of it, for Louis Hopper had already stuck out his tongue at
+          him!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And finally, that he &ldquo;shuddered to cross the new market-place&rdquo;&mdash;in
+          those days criminals were scourged, branded and hanged here&mdash;because
+          it reminded him so disagreeably of Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s horrible
+          allusion to Walter&rsquo;s fate.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then followed all sorts of things about Korahs, Dathans and Abirams,
+          whereupon the whole family broke out in a wail. For it was so
+          pathetic.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter comforted himself with thoughts of Glorioso, and, whenever that
+          &ldquo;something else&rdquo; of Juffrouw Laps was spoken of, he just
+          dreamed of his marriage with beautiful Amalia, whose train was carried
+          by six pages. I fancy Juffrouw Laps would have made a pretty face if
+          she had learned of this interpretation of her mysterious climax.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All efforts to compel our hero to tell how he had spent that money
+          were in vain. After all known means had been applied, the attempt to
+          force a confession had to be abandoned. Water and bread, water without
+          bread, bread without water, no water and no bread, the preacher,
+          Stoffel, Habakkuk, Juffrouw Laps, tears, the rod&mdash;all in vain.
+          Walter was not the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb26" href="#pb26">26</a>]</span>boy
+          to betray Glorioso. This was what he had found so shabby of
+          Scelerajoso, who had to pay the penalty, as we have seen.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As soon as he got the privilege of walking again with the Hallemans,
+          who were so eminently respectable, he hurried away to the old bridge,
+          near Ash Gate, to continue his thrilling book. He read up to that
+          fatal moment when he had to tell his hero good-bye, and on the last
+          page saw Glorioso, as a major-general, peacefully expire in the arms
+          of the virtuous Alvira.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When Walter had returned the book to Hartenstraat his eye was
+          attracted by some almond-cakes at the confectioner&rsquo;s on the
+          corner. He did with Glorioso just as the Athenians did with Kodrus: No
+          one was worthy to be the successor of such a hero, and within a few
+          days the residue of the New Testament had been converted into
+          stomach-destroying pastry.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I ought to add that a part of the &ldquo;balance&rdquo; left after
+          that Italian excursion&mdash;perhaps the part contributed by the
+          Psalms&mdash;was invested in a triple-toned, ear-splitting,
+          soul-searing harmonica, which was finally confiscated by Master
+          Pennewip as being a disturbing element in the schoolroom. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb27" href="#pb27">27</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch5" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter V
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          I don&rsquo;t feel called upon to pass judgment on the strife between
+          Leentje and Pennewip regarding the latter&rsquo;s partiality towards
+          Keesje, the butcher&rsquo;s son. But that fiery feeling for right and
+          justice which has harrassed me from my earliest youth&mdash;ah, for
+          years have I waited in vain for justice&mdash;and the foolish passion
+          for hunting after mitigating circumstances, even when the misdeed has
+          been proved&mdash;all this compels me to say that Pennewip&rsquo;s lot
+          might be considered a mitigating circumstance for a man convicted of
+          the eight deadly sins.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I have found that many great men began their careers as feeders of
+          hogs (see biographical encyclopedias); and it seems to me that this
+          occupation develops those qualities necessary in ruling or advancing
+          mankind.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If the theologists should happen to criticise this story, and perhaps
+          accuse me of far-reaching ignorance, because I enumerate one cardinal
+          sin more than they knew of, or of the crime of classifying man as a
+          sort of hog, I reply that, still another new canonical sin could be
+          discovered that they have never studied. And that ought to be as
+          pleasing to them as influenza is to the apothecary.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          New problems, gentlemen, new problems!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And as for our relationship with pigs, just consider <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb28" href="#pb28">28</a>]</span>the relation
+          of coal to diamond, and I think everyone will be satisfied&mdash;even
+          the theologists.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          What a magnificent prospect anyone has who spends his tender youth
+          with those grunting coal-diamonds of the animal world! But I have
+          often wondered that in the &ldquo;Lives of Famous Men&rdquo; we so
+          seldom read of a school-teacher, for in the school all the ingredients
+          of greatness are abounding.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reverse is more often true. Every day we see banished princes
+          teaching lazy boys. Dionysius and Louis Philippe are not the only
+          ones. I myself once tried to teach an American French. It was no go.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If it should ever become customary again to elect kings, I hope the
+          people will elect such persons as have studied men, just as one
+          studies Geography on globes or maps. All virtues, propensities,
+          passions, mistakes, misdeeds, knowledge of which is so indispensable
+          in human society, can be studied much better in the schoolroom. The
+          field is restricted, and can be taken in more readily. The famous
+          statecraft of many a great man, if the truth were known, had its
+          origin in that old tripping trick, which is everything to the
+          three-foot Machiavellis.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The task of a schoolmaster is not an easy one. I have never understood
+          why he is not better paid, or, since this must be so, why there are
+          still men who prefer to teach, when on the same pay they might be
+          corporals in the army, and teach the use of firearms, which offers
+          fewer headaches and more fresh air.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I would even rather be a preacher; for he does work with people who
+          are interested and come to hear him <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb29"
+          href="#pb29">29</a>]</span>of their own free will. The teacher has to
+          fight continually with indifference, and with the extremely dangerous
+          rivalry of tops, marbles, and paper-dolls&mdash;not to speak of candy,
+          scarlatina and weak mothers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Pennewip was a man of the old school. At least he would seem so to us
+          if we could see him in his gray school jacket and short trousers with
+          buckles, and his brown wig, which he was continually pushing into
+          place. At the first of the week this was always curly, when it was not
+          raining&mdash;rain isn&rsquo;t good for curls; and on Sundays &ldquo;the
+          man with the curling irons&rdquo; came.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Antiquated? But perhaps this is only imagination. Who knows? perhaps
+          in his day he was quite modern. How soon people will say the same of
+          us! At all events, the man called himself &ldquo;Master&rdquo; and his
+          school was a school and not an &ldquo;Institute.&rdquo; It is no
+          advance to call things by other than their right names. In his school
+          boys and girls sat together indiscriminately, according to the na&iuml;ve
+          custom of those days. They learned, or might learn, Reading, Writing,
+          Arithmetic, National History, Psalmody, Sewing, Knitting, and
+          Religion. These were the order of the day, but if anyone distinguished
+          himself by a show of talent, diligence or good behavior, that one
+          received special instruction in versification, an art in which
+          Pennewip took great pleasure.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus he taught the boys till they were sufficiently advanced to be
+          confirmed. With the help of his wife he gave the girls a &ldquo;finishing
+          course.&rdquo; They were graduated with a paternoster done in red on a
+          black <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb30" href="#pb30">30</a>]</span>background,
+          or perhaps a pierced heart between two flower-pots. Then they were
+          through and ready to become the grandmothers of their own generation.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was no natural science then. Even to-day there is room for
+          improvement along this line. It is said that some advance has been
+          made recently. It is more useful for a child to know how corn grows
+          than to be able to call the name of it in a foreign language. I don&rsquo;t
+          say that either is incompatible with the other.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The public schools were most deficient at the time when Walter and
+          Keesje were slowly crawling around the arena of honor; but I doubt if
+          one could say much more of the &ldquo;institutes&rdquo; of to-day. I
+          would advise everyone to visit such a school as he attended when a
+          boy; and I am convinced that after this test many a father who has the
+          welfare of his children at heart will prefer to keep them at home. One
+          comes to the conclusion, that after all in the school of clever Master
+          Miller, who was so clever that he got himself addressed as <i> M&rsquo;sieu</i>
+          Millaire, precious little was to be learned.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Failing to make this test we continue to believe in the infallibility
+          of M&rsquo;sieu of Millaire. We always consider that one a great man
+          whom we have known in childhood and haven&rsquo;t seen since.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When I remarked a moment ago that school-teachers are paid so
+          niggardly, I didn&rsquo;t mean that their remuneration was
+          insufficient, considering the quality and quantity of the goods
+          delivered&mdash;knowledge, scholarship, education. I only had in mind
+          the bitterness of their lot, and the poor indemnity given to the man
+          who spends his life in a wasp&rsquo;s nest. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb31" href="#pb31">31</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In addition to versifying, Pennewip had still another hobby, which
+          gave him more claim to a throne than did anything else. He was
+          possessed with the mania for classifying, a passion known to few, but
+          still of not infrequent occurrence. I have never quite understood the
+          disease; and I gave up my search for the &ldquo;first cause&rdquo; as
+          soon as I saw how difficult it is to get around with a hobby-horse
+          taken from somebody else&rsquo;s stable. So I am going to give only a
+          short sketch of Pennewip&rsquo;s harmless animal.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Everything that he saw, perceived, experienced he divided into
+          families, classes, genera, species and sub-species, and made of the
+          human race a sort of botanical garden, in which he was the <i> Linne</i>.
+          He regarded that as the only possible way to grasp the final purpose
+          of creation and clear up all obscure things, both in and out of
+          school. He even went so far as to say that Walter&rsquo;s New
+          Testament would have turned up again if Juffrouw Pieterse had only
+          been able to tell to what class the man belonged who had bound the
+          volume in black leather. But that was something she didn&rsquo;t know.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As for myself, I shouldn&rsquo;t have said a word about Pennewip&rsquo;s
+          mania for classifying everything, if I hadn&rsquo;t thought it might
+          help me to give the reader a better picture of our hero and his
+          surroundings. I should have preferred to leave the said Pennewip in
+          undisturbed intercourse with the muses; but we shall have occasion
+          later to refer to his poetic art, when we shall quote some poems by
+          his pupils.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After the usual general division into &ldquo;animate&rdquo; and
+          &ldquo;inanimate&rdquo;&mdash;the good man gave the human <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb32" href="#pb32">32</a>]</span>race only one
+          soul&mdash;followed a system that looked like a pyramid. On the top
+          was God with the angels and spirits and other accessories, while the
+          oysters and polyps and mussels were crawling about down near the base,
+          or lying still&mdash;just as they pleased. Half way up stood kings,
+          members of school-boards, mayors, legislators, theologians and D.D.&rsquo;s.
+          Next under these were professors and merchants who do not work
+          themselves. Then came doctors of things profane, <i>i. e.</i>, those
+          driving double rigs, also lawyers and untitled preachers, the Colonel
+          of the City Militia, the Rector of the Latin School. Philosophers
+          (only those who have developed a system), doctors with one horse,
+          doctors without any horse and poets were further down. Rather low
+          down, and not far from the mussels, was the seventh sub-division of
+          the third class of the &ldquo;citizen population.&rdquo; Our hero
+          would come under this sub-section.
+        </p>
+        <div class="blockquote">
+          <p>
+            <span class="smallcaps">Citizen Population, Class III., 7th
+            Sub-Division.</span>
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            <i>People Living in Rented Flats.</i>
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            <i>a.</i> Entrance for tenants only. Three-window front. Two
+            stories, with back-rooms. The boys sleep alone, dress, however, with
+            the girls. Fresh straw in case a baby is born. Learning French,
+            poems at Christmas. The girls are sometimes called Lena or Maria,
+            but seldom Louise. Darning. The boys work in offices. One girl kept,
+            sewing-girl, and &ldquo;person for the rough work.&rdquo; Washing at
+            home. Read sermons by Palm. <span class="corr" id="xd0e955"
+            title="Source: Pickeled">Pickled</span> pork on Sundays, with
+            table-cloth, liquor after coffee. Religion. Respectability. <span
+            class="pagenum">[<a id="pb33" href="#pb33">33</a>]</span>
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            <i>b 1.</i> Still three windows. One story. Neighbors live above who
+            ring twice (<i>Vide</i> b. 2). Leentje, Mietje; Louise heard seldom.
+            House-door opened with a cord, which is sleek from long use. Sleep
+            in one room. Straw-heaps in cases of confinement. One maid-servant
+            for everything. Sundays cheese, no liquor, but religion and
+            respectability as above.
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            <i>b 2.</i> Neighbors who ring twice. About as above. No maid, only
+            a &ldquo;person for the rough work.&rdquo; Seamstress. White
+            table-cloth. Cheese from time to time, only occasionally. Religion
+            as above.
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            <i>c.</i> One story higher. Two-window front. Small projecting
+            back-room. The entire family sleeps in two beds. No trace of straw.
+            The boys are called Louw, Piet, or Gerrit, and become watchmakers or
+            type-setters. A few become sailors. Continual wrangle with the
+            neighbors about the waste-water. Religion as above. Associate with
+            &ldquo;respectable folk.&rdquo; Read &ldquo;Harlemmer&rdquo; with
+            III. 7, b. 2. No maid, or person for rough work, but a seamstress on
+            seven stivers and a piece of bread and butter.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          That brings us to Juffrouw Pieterse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reader will now have a very good idea of Walter&rsquo;s
+          environment, and will readily understand why I said he had a &ldquo;city
+          complexion.&rdquo; That was when we saw him in the Hartenstraat, on
+          the road to fame, or on the road to that nameless &ldquo;other thing&rdquo;
+          of Juffrouw Laps. At all events he was on his way to things that will
+          occupy our attention for some time yet. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb34" href="#pb34">34</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch6" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter VI
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          It was Wednesday, and the Pieterses were going to give a party.
+          Juffrouw Laps had been invited, also the Juffrouw living over the
+          dairy, whose husband was employed at the &ldquo;bourse.&rdquo; Further
+          Mrs. Stotter, who had been a midwife for so long and was still merely
+          &ldquo;very respectable.&rdquo; Then the widow Zipperman, whose
+          daughter had married some fellow in the insurance business, or
+          something of the kind. Also the baker&rsquo;s wife. That was
+          unavoidable: it was impossible to buy all kinds of pastry and cakes
+          without her finding out what was up. Then the Juffrouw living below
+          and to the rear. Of course she wouldn&rsquo;t come, but the Pieterses
+          wanted to show that they had forgotten the late quarrel over the
+          broken window-pane. If she didn&rsquo;t come that was the end of the
+          matter, so far as Juffrouw Pieterse was concerned. She would have
+          nothing more to do with the Juffrouw from below. I may add that the
+          lady from below did not come, and that her name was stricken from the
+          calling-list of those higher up.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The children were to go to bed early, with the promise of a cup of
+          sage-milk for breakfast if they would not make any noise the entire
+          evening. This drink largely took the place of tea then. It was thought
+          that the &ldquo;noise&rdquo; made by children would not be
+          appreciated. Walter got permission to go play <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb35" href="#pb35">35</a>]</span>with the Halleman boys, who were
+          thought to be very respectable. He must be at home by eight o&rsquo;clock;
+          but this was said in a tone that gave him no cause to fear a reprimand
+          in case he should stay out later. Laurens, who of course was an
+          apprentice to a printer, and usually came home about seven o&rsquo;clock
+          in the evening, was big enough to be present with the guests, but must
+          promise to sit still and drink only two glasses. The big girls were to
+          be present as a matter of course: They had been confirmed. Stoffel
+          presided. His business was to meet the gentlemen when they came for
+          the ladies about ten o&rsquo;clock, and entertain the company with
+          stories of Mungo Park.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Leentje was to remain till the people were all there, as it was so
+          inconvenient to have to open the door every time. She could make
+          herself useful in arranging the table and doing other things incident
+          to such occasions. But she &ldquo;must move about a little brisker,&rdquo;
+          otherwise they would prefer to do everything themselves.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The eldest of the girls, Juffrouw Truitje, must look after the &ldquo;sage-milk.&rdquo;
+          Pietje had charge of the sandwiches; but Myntje was to see to it that
+          the butter was spread a little thicker, for the last time the bread
+          had been too dry.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Everything was going to turn out so nicely, &ldquo;if only Juffrouw
+          Laps wouldn&rsquo;t talk so much.&rdquo; That was her failing. And,
+          too, they hoped that the widow Zipperman would &ldquo;brag a little
+          less about her son-in-law.&rdquo; This was considered a source of
+          weariness. And the Juffrouw who lived over the dairy &ldquo;might be
+          more modest.&rdquo; She had &ldquo;never lived in such a fine <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb36" href="#pb36">36</a>]</span>house&rdquo;;
+          and as for the shop&mdash;that was no disgrace; and on the top floor&mdash;but
+          one cannot tell how it will be.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No one understood why the baker&rsquo;s wife used so many French
+          words, which was not becoming in one of her station. &ldquo;If she
+          does it this evening, Stoffel, say something to me that she can&rsquo;t
+          understand, then she will find out that we are not &lsquo;from the
+          street,&rsquo; that we know what&rsquo;s what.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all the same to me,&rdquo; Juffrouw Pieterse
+          continued, &ldquo;whether the Juffrouw downstairs comes or not. I don&rsquo;t
+          care a fig about it.&mdash;Four, five&mdash;Louw can sit there, but he
+          must keep his legs still&mdash;and a chair there&mdash;yes&mdash;so!
+          It&rsquo;s a good thing she&rsquo;s not coming; it would have been too
+          crowded. Leentje, go to work&mdash;do blow your nose! No, run over to
+          Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s and ask the Juffrouw if the Juffrouw could spare
+          a few stools&mdash;without backs, you understand; because the chairs
+          there by the chimney&mdash;yes, ask the Juffrouw for a few stools, and
+          tell the Juffrouw that they are for me, and that I expect the
+          Juffrouws about seven. Give my compliments to the Juffrouw and wipe
+          your nose.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse didn&rsquo;t like to use personal pronouns; it was
+          impolite.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On this afternoon Walter went to his bridge early. It was now not so
+          useless as usual, for the rain of the day before had filled the ditch
+          with water, which was even running, so that the straws which Walter
+          thoughtlessly, or full of thought&mdash;both are about the same thing&mdash;threw
+          into the water were carried down to the pond, where the logs lay that
+          were to be sawed up by the &ldquo;Eagle&rdquo; and the &ldquo;Early
+          Hour.&rdquo; These <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb37" href="#pb37">37</a>]</span>were
+          the names of the sawmills that for some weeks had been the witnesses
+          of Walter&rsquo;s daydreams.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Glorioso was gone, and could not be replaced; but on those afternoons
+          when he was free Walter returned involuntarily to the spot where he
+          had had his first glimpse of the world of romance. How rough and crude
+          the colors in that first picture! Perhaps it was the very roughness of
+          the colors that attracted him and changed him, till he could not
+          conceive how he had ever found enjoyment in the little cakes on the
+          corner.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A peculiar prospective had opened up before him. He dreamed of things
+          that he could not name; but they made him bitterly dissatisfied with
+          his present condition. He was anxious to do everything prescribed to
+          get to Heaven; but he thought it would be much easier to pray in such
+          a cave with wax candles. And as for honoring his mother, a point upon
+          which she always laid great stress&mdash;why didn&rsquo;t she have a
+          train like the countess? Certainly he ought not to have sold the
+          Bible; and he wouldn&rsquo;t do it any more&mdash;he had vowed it; but
+          then he ought to have had a box filled with florins, and a feather in
+          his cap, just as it was in the book.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was disgusted with his brother Stoffel, and his sisters, and
+          Juffrouw Laps, and the preacher and everything. He couldn&rsquo;t
+          understand why the whole family didn&rsquo;t go to Italy and form a
+          respectable robber-band. But Pennewip and Keesje shouldn&rsquo;t go;
+          that was certain.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He wondered what had become of his verses. Every Wednesday such pupils
+          as had been well-behaved, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb38"
+          href="#pb38">38</a>]</span>and, for that reason, deemed worthy to
+          contest for the &ldquo;laurel,&rdquo; handed in a poem written on some
+          subject suggested by the teacher. This time the subject assigned to
+          Walter was &ldquo;Goodness,&rdquo; which probably had some reference
+          to his former behavior, and was a hint for the improvement of his
+          moral character. But Walter had already put goodness into rhyme so
+          often, and found the subject so dry and tedious and worn-out that he
+          had taken the liberty of &ldquo;singing&rdquo; something else. He
+          selected the theme nearest his heart&mdash;robbers!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Like all authors he was greatly infatuated with his work. He was
+          convinced that the teacher, too, would see the excellencies of his
+          poem and forgive him for deviating from the path of goodness. The
+          verses would undoubtedly be sent to the mayor, and he would pass them
+          on to the Pope, who would then summon Walter and appoint him &ldquo;Court-robber.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And thus he dreamed and threw his straws into the stream. They moved
+          away slowly and disappeared between the moss-covered timbers.
+          Involuntarily his fancy had transmuted them into the characters of his
+          world of romance. There went the countess with her long train, which
+          got caught in the moss and held the countess fast. The virtuous Amalia
+          met with no better luck; she got tangled up in the water lentils. And
+          now came Walter himself. He approached Amalia, in her green robes, and
+          was just about to rescue her, when he was swallowed by a duck. This
+          was most unkind of the duck, for it was Walter&rsquo;s last stalk of
+          grass; and now in the rattling and buzzing <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb39" href="#pb39">39</a>]</span>of the sawmills below he could
+          hear Amalia repeating in a reproachful voice:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Warre, warre, warre, we;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Where is warre, warre, wall&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Walter, who will rescue me?&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          This annoyed him, and he could not resist the temptation to throw a
+          rock at the duck whose greediness had caused Amalia to doubt his
+          chivalry.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The duck chose the better part, and retired after she had done Walter
+          all the damage she could. But the sawmills paid no attention to these
+          happenings and continued to rattle away.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter heard now in the noisy clatter of the mills all kinds of songs
+          and stories, and, listening to these, he soon forgot Amalia and the
+          Pope. That the reader may not get a wrong impression of these mills, I
+          hasten to say that there was really nothing extraordinary about them.
+          They buzzed and rattled just like other sawmills.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It often happens that we think we perceive something which comes from
+          the external world, when in fact it is only a subjective product in
+          ourselves. Similarly, we may think we have just imagined something,
+          when really it came to us from the world of the senses.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This is a kind of ventriloquism that often gives cause for annoyance
+          and enmity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I wonder which turns the faster?&mdash;Walter listened to the mills.
+          Now&mdash;I think&mdash;no, begin together. Good! No, the Eagle was
+          ahead! Once more&mdash;now!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Which will get there first? No, that won&rsquo;t do. Once more
+          together. Look sharp, Morning Hour,&mdash;<span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb40" href="#pb40">40</a>]</span>out again! I can&rsquo;t hold my
+          eye on it&mdash;what a whirling and buzzing!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          You are tired, are you? I believe it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If I might only sit on such a big wing, wouldn&rsquo;t I hold on
+          tight? And wouldn&rsquo;t the sawyer look?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Why are you called &ldquo;Morning Hour&rdquo;? Have you gold in your
+          mouth? And &ldquo;Eagle&rdquo;! Can you fly? Take me with you. What a
+          big play-ground up there, and no school!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I wonder how the first school began. Which came first, the school, or
+          the teacher? But the first teacher must have attended a school. And
+          the first school must have had a teacher.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          So the first school must have just started itself. But that is
+          impossible. &ldquo;Eagle,&rdquo; can you turn yourself?&mdash;with the
+          wind? Can you turn yourself some other way? Try it. Beat &ldquo;Morning
+          Hour.&rdquo; Quick, quick&mdash;beautiful!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Now, once more alone. Good!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Now, together again! Karre, karre, kra, kra&mdash;stretch your arms
+          out and take me with you. Will you? Put your hat on, Eagle; how the
+          ribbons fly.&mdash;Who are you? Warre, warre, ware, wan&mdash;I can&rsquo;t
+          help it; it was the duck. Tell me what your name is. Fanny, fanny,
+          fanny, fan&mdash;&mdash; Is your name fan? And you, Morning Hour, what
+          is your name? Ceny, ceny, ceny, ce. What kind of a name is Ce? Now
+          together&mdash;sing a song together:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            Fanny, fanny, fanny, fan&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Ceny, ceny, ceny, ce&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Fanny, ceny, fanny, ceny,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Fanny, ceny, fan&mdash;cy.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb41" href="#pb41">41</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          Fancy&mdash;what do you mean by that? Is that the name of both of you?
+          And what is it? Has it wings?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Morning Hour&rdquo; and &ldquo;Eagle&rdquo; had fused into
+          something that had wings and was called fancy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Fancy lifted Walter up and bore him away.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When she brought him back to the bridge again it had already been dark
+          for a long time. He shook himself as if he were wet, rubbed his eyes
+          and started home. We shall see later what awaited him there; but first
+          we must go back a few hours. I hope the reader will not disdain an
+          invitation to Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s. Remember that her husband
+          never made anything, but bought everything ready-made in Paris.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In passing by I should like to make Master Pennewip a short visit.
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb42" href="#pb42">42</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch7" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter VII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          School was out; and the seats looked as if the pupils had just left
+          the tediousness of it all lying there. The map of Europe looked down
+          peevishly on the heap of writing-pads. There lay the mutilated and
+          well-worn goose-quills, which since time immemorial have opened up the
+          gates of learning. True, the black-board vaunted itself with the heavy
+          results of the last lesson in &ldquo;fractions&rdquo;; but the school
+          was no more. The spirit had fled: It was a corpse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, the &ldquo;Geist&rdquo; had gone out with the children; for the
+          reader will see in a moment that they carried about with them a
+          tremendous amount of that article.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          We already know that this was the great day when Pennewip was to
+          criticise the poetical effusions of his young geniuses. There he sat,
+          his restless wig sharing all the poetical feelings and emotions&mdash;and
+          motions&mdash;of its owner. We will just look over his shoulder and
+          read with him those inestimable treasures of poetic art; and perhaps
+          we too shall be moved to emotion.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig: In the middle, resting quietly.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Lucas de Bryer</span>: &ldquo;Our Native
+            Land.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            Cake and wine and native land,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Out in the moonlight I take my stand;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Our native land and cake and wine,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And I hope the moon will shine;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Five fingers have I on my hand,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            All to honor our native land.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb43" href="#pb43">43</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Melodious,&rdquo; said the teacher, &ldquo;very melodious; and
+          very profound. Cake and wine, with our native land as a climax.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig: On the right side.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Lizzie Webbelar</span>: &ldquo;My Father&rsquo;s
+            Vocation.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            The cat is sly, I know;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            My father is a dealer in Po-
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Tatoes and onions.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Original, immediate! But I don&rsquo;t like the way she cuts
+          her potatoes in twain.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig: On the left side.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Jeanette Rust</span>: &ldquo;The
+            Weather-cock.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            He stands on the chimney since long ago,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And shows the wind which way to blow.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Smooth, but not quite correct, <span class="corr" id="xd0e1140"
+          title="Source: for">if</span> examined closely&mdash;but I&rsquo;ll
+          let it pass as poetic license.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig: Down in front.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Leendert Snelleman</span>: &ldquo;Lent.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            In Lent it is always nice,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            My brother&rsquo;s birth-day is in May,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            He says his feet need warming,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            So that Lent we must be praising,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And then we&rsquo;re going to celebrate,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Easter brings eggs and a holiday.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s too bad that he&rsquo;s so careless with his rhymes.
+          His imagination is extraordinary. Very original.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig: Down on his neck. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb44" href="#pb44">44</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Keesje, the Butcher&rsquo;s Boy</span>:
+            &ldquo;In Praise of the Teacher.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            My father has slaughtered many a steer,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            But Master Pennewip is still living, I hear;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Some are lean, and some are well-fed,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            He has slipped his wig to the side of his head.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          The wig actually went to the side of his head.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, this is curious. I hardly know what to say about it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig slipped to the other side.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the connection between me and steers?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig protested vigorously against any implication of relationship
+          with steers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;H&mdash;mm! Can it be that this is what our new-fangled writers
+          call humour?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig sank down to his eyebrows, which signified doubt.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will call up the boy and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig passed again to the zenith, to express its satisfaction with
+          the teacher&rsquo;s determination to interview the butcher&rsquo;s
+          boy.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Lucas de Wilde</span>: &ldquo;Religion.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            Religion very nice must be,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Much it pleases the people we see.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The fundamental idea is very beautiful,&rdquo; said the
+          teacher, &ldquo;but it ought to have been developed better.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig nodded <span class="corr" id="xd0e1211"
+          title="Source: aquiescence">acquiescence</span>.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Trudie Gier</span>: &ldquo;Juffrouw
+            Pennewip.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            The path of virtue she shows us each day,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And we are glad to go that way;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And as there&rsquo;s nothing to do more fitting,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            She teaches us sewing, darning and knitting.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb45" href="#pb45">45</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          The wig fairly leaped with pleasure, and the curls embraced one
+          another. This out-pouring of Trudie&rsquo;s heart was borne at once to
+          Juffrouw Pennewip, and was later hung by the fireplace in honor of the
+          poetess and the subject of the poem.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then followed a sublime poem on God by Klaasje van der Gracht, the son
+          of the Catechist. He was thirteen years old, and had not been
+          vaccinated&mdash;out of regard for predestination.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If only his father didn&rsquo;t help him!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig was rigid with astonishment.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Louwtje de Wilde</span>: &ldquo;Friendship.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            Friendship very nice must be,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Much it pleases the people we see.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          The wig seemed dissatisfied. The &ldquo;Religion&rdquo; of Lucas de
+          Wilde was pulled out and compared with Louwtje&rsquo;s &ldquo;Friendship.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;H&mdash;emm. It is possible. Another example of how one thought
+          can originate in two heads at the same time.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Wimpje de Wilde</span>: &ldquo;Fishing.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            Fishing very&mdash;&mdash;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, really, there it was again:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            Fishing very nice must be,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Much it pleases the people we see.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          The wig was moving continually. It looked as if it were fishing too.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The teacher looked hurriedly through the remaining <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb46" href="#pb46">46</a>]</span>poems and
+          picked out the offspring of the entire Wilde connection. His worst
+          suspicions were realized. Mietje de Wilde, Kees de Wilde, Piet and Jan
+          de Wilde&mdash;all uniformly declared that religion, friendship,
+          fishing, dreaming, cauliflower and deception &ldquo;very nice must be,&rdquo;
+          and that they were also very pleasing &ldquo;to the people we see.&rdquo;
+          A regular flood of the nice and pleasing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Now, what do you suppose the wig did? It did the best thing that could
+          be done under the circumstances. More could not be expected of a wig.
+          As soon as it saw the futility of its efforts to comprehend the
+          difference between fishing, friendship, deception, dreams, religion
+          and cauliflower, it merely ignored the whole matter, readjusted itself
+          and assumed an expression of expectancy for what was yet to come.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Leentje de Haas</span>: &ldquo;Admiral de
+            Ruyter.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            Pulling the rope with emotion,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line" style="text-indent: 2em; ">
+            To the top of the mast he came,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And then he went to the ocean,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line" style="text-indent: 2em; ">
+            And won for himself great fame.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            And very much more he perfected,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line" style="text-indent: 2em; ">
+            Saleh he vanquished, too;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            A hero he was then elected,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line" style="text-indent: 2em; ">
+            With nothing else to do.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          The wig lifted itself, the curls applauding enthusiastically. It was
+          evidently pleased.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Grete Wauzer</span>: &ldquo;The Caterpillar.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            The caterpillar, free from care,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Crawls on the tree just over there.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb47" href="#pb47">47</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          <span class="corr" id="xd0e1308" title="Not in source"> &ldquo;</span>Descriptive
+          poetry. A daring idea&mdash;the caterpillar crawling on the tree free
+          from care.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig: Quiet.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Ah, the pleasure of a wig is short-lived! And how soon was this one&mdash;but
+          I will not anticipate. Soon, all too soon, the reader will know the
+          worst.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Walter Pieterse</span>: &ldquo;A Robber
+            Song.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Aha, what&rsquo;s this? And &lsquo;goodness&rsquo;? But where
+          has he written on goodness?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The teacher could scarcely believe his eyes. He turned the sheet of
+          paper over and examined the back side, hoping to discover there some
+          lines on goodness.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then he saw that on Walter&rsquo;s sheet there was not a trace of
+          &ldquo;goodness.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, wretched wig!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, wretched wig! For after it had suffered as never wig had suffered
+          before, after it had been pulled at and tugged at and martyred in a
+          manner beyond even the imagination of the Wilde family, Master
+          Pennewip snatched it from his head, twisted it convulsively in his
+          hands, stammered a short &ldquo;Heaven-human-Christian-soul-good-gracious-my-life&mdash;how
+          is it possible!&rdquo; slapped it on his head again, covered it with
+          his venerable cap and burst out the door like one possessed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was on his way to Walter&rsquo;s home, where we shall soon see him
+          arrive. As a conscientious historian, however, it will be my duty
+          first to give an account of the happenings there. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb48" href="#pb48">48</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch8" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter VIII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Goodness, I&rsquo;m glad to see you! And so early, too! Leetje,
+          place a chair over there and get the footstool, but be in a hurry, or
+          I&rsquo;d rather do it myself. And how are you? Juffrouw Laps is
+          coming too, you know&mdash;Myntje, you&rsquo;d better be thinking of
+          your dough and stop combing your head. That girl can&rsquo;t keep her
+          hands off of her hair when there&rsquo;s company. But do take a seat&mdash;no,
+          not in the corner; there&rsquo;s a draft there.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was no more draft in this corner than is usual to corners; but
+          Mrs. Stotter was only a Vrouw, and not a &ldquo;Juffrouw.&rdquo; She
+          had no right to the seat of honour; for on all occasions a Juffrouw
+          takes precedence of a Vrouw, just as a Mevrouw takes precedence of a
+          Juffrouw. Everyone must keep his place, especially those in III, 7,
+          b1; or c., where etiquette is observed more closely than at the court
+          of Madrid. The care and anxiety of the mistress of ceremonies make her
+          work most trying, and, too, not merely for Juffrouw Pieterse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, my dear Juffrouw Pieterse, I was so surprised when Louwie
+          came to invite me, for I had just remarked to Wimpje, who makes caps,
+          you know&mdash;no, thank you, Pietje, I don&rsquo;t care for any just
+          now&mdash;I said to Wimpje, I wonder what Juffrouw Pieterse is doing,
+          for I hadn&rsquo;t heard from you in so long, you know&mdash;yes, just
+          throw it aside, it&rsquo;s my old one; I <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb49" href="#pb49">49</a>]</span>knew you wouldn&rsquo;t mind my
+          wearing my old one&mdash;and then Wimpje said&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          What Wimpje really said I don&rsquo;t know. Mrs. Stotter&rsquo;s
+          garment, which she had described as her &ldquo;old one,&rdquo; was
+          removed and placed on the foot of the bed in the back room. The
+          children, who were piled together there like sardines, were duly
+          admonished not to stretch out their feet, lest in doing so they injure
+          Mrs. Stotter&rsquo;s &ldquo;old&rdquo; garment.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And now, my dear, be seated&mdash;yes, that&rsquo;s for us,
+          twice already. Leentje, where are you hiding now? Can&rsquo;t you hear
+          that somebody is ringing?&mdash;It&rsquo;s probably Juffrouw
+          Zipperman. Juffrouw Zipperman is coming, too, you know.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again I am at a loss: I don&rsquo;t know whether it was Juffrouw
+          Zipperman who had rung, or somebody else. But the reader need not
+          scold me for writing a story that I don&rsquo;t know myself. I cannot
+          be sure whether it was Juffrouw Zipperman this time or Juffrouw
+          Mabbel, from the bakery, or Juffrouw Krummel, whose husband is at the
+          bourse, or Juffrouw Laps&mdash;but she didn&rsquo;t need to ring, as
+          she lived in the house. Anyway, by half past seven the entire company
+          was assembled, and Stoffel was smoking his pipe as if his life
+          depended upon it. Leentje had gone home without her piece of bread and
+          butter. She &ldquo;could get it to-morrow&rdquo;; to-day there was
+          &ldquo;so much to do,&rdquo; and &ldquo;one can&rsquo;t do everything
+          at once, you know.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And then she got another one right away&mdash;don&rsquo;t you
+          know? One with a wart on her nose.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, it&rsquo;s an ordeal one has with girls,&rdquo; said
+          Juffrouw Pieterse. &ldquo;Take another piece, don&rsquo;t wait <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb50" href="#pb50">50</a>]</span>to be
+          insisted upon; it&rsquo;s a cake from your own dough.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;<span lang="fr">Excusez</span>,&rdquo; said the Juffrouw from
+          the bakery, with a mouth like a rabbit, a style of mouth signifying
+          graciousness and good breeding.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You must eat more, or I shall think you don&rsquo;t like it.&rdquo;
+          She had baked it herself.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then I cannot refuse, Juffrouw Pieterse. Oblig&eacute; and many
+          thanks.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you, Juffrouw Laps, what can I pass you?&rdquo; Juffrouw
+          Laps selected ginger cake.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Fill the cups, Trudie! Yes, Mrs. Stotter, when you are here you
+          must drink with us. You are welcome to anything we&rsquo;ve got.
+          Pietje, wipe off a table&mdash;such a girl! And now go and look after
+          the baby, and tell her that I don&rsquo;t want to hear any more noise.
+          Ah, Juffrouw Mabbel, children are a great deal of trouble. And your
+          little Sientje&mdash;how is her cough now?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;We&rsquo;ve got a magnetisier, but that isn&rsquo;t enough. We
+          must have the clairvoyange of the sonnebule.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t say so! One can hardly believe it. And when is
+          he coming, the cler&mdash;cleek&mdash;clar&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s in the nerves, Juffrouw Zipperman. But he has the
+          little nightcap and nightgown, in which she has sweated, you know; and
+          he says that it will come all right now.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Who would have thought it! What will you do now?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s just it; the sonnebule must tell us what to do.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps could not agree to this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t do it&mdash;I wouldn&rsquo;t do it&mdash;not
+          for anything <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb51" href="#pb51">51</a>]</span>in
+          the world! I tell you, what God does is all right. Just mark my words!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Juffrouw Laps; but the Juffrouw at the provision store did
+          it, and her child is lots better.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what <i>you</i> say, Juffrouw Mabbel, but I tell
+          you there is something in her eye that I don&rsquo;t like.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What then, Juffrouw Laps?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She has a look, a look&mdash;and it&rsquo;s sin&mdash;I tell
+          you it is. It&rsquo;s wrong, it won&rsquo;t do. What God does is all
+          right.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Come, Stoffel, talk some. You sit there like a stone. Recite a
+          poem, or tell us something about your school. Would you believe it,
+          Juffrouw Mabbel, he knows a whole poem by heart. And he has memorized
+          all the verbs of the feminine gender.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mother, what are you talking about?&rdquo; said Stoffel,
+          displeased. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see I&rsquo;m smoking?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, dear, I meant when you were through smoking. Then you can
+          repeat the words. You will be surprised, Juffrouw Zipperman, and
+          wonder where he learned it all. How does it go? &lsquo;I would have
+          been drunk, he would have been drunk&rsquo;&mdash;of course, you know,
+          he was not drunk, it belongs with the verbs. You will kill yourself
+          laughing when he begins. Fill the cups, Trudie, and blow in the spout;
+          there&rsquo;s a leaf over it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reader will not take it amiss, I trust, if I pass over the
+          subsequent history of this leaf, and, too, make some deviations from
+          the text of the conversation during the further course of Juffrouw
+          Pieterse&rsquo;s tea-evening. Stoffel spun off his conjugations and
+          the ladies fairly shrieked when he related how &ldquo;he had <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb52" href="#pb52">52</a>]</span>been drunk&rdquo;
+          and that &ldquo;he would be drunk.&rdquo; Thereupon followed general
+          and particular criticism of the neighbors. The Juffrouw below received
+          her share, as a matter of course: She was absent.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Religion and faith play an important part. Juffrouw Laps was for
+          organizing a prayer-class. The preachers of to-day, she insisted, take
+          their work too lightly and don&rsquo;t sweep out all the corners.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I tell you, it&rsquo;s in the Bible that man is only man,&rdquo;
+          she cried; &ldquo;that&rsquo;s what I want to tell you. Man must not
+          try to know better than God himself. Salvation comes through grace,
+          and grace through faith; but if a man is not chosen, then he has no
+          grace and can have no faith. That&rsquo;s the way he is damned, don&rsquo;t
+          you see? I tell you, it&rsquo;s just as certain as twice two&mdash;understand?
+          And for that reason I want to have a prayer-class. Not for the sake of
+          money or profit&mdash;God help me, no! At most just a trifle for the
+          fair, or for New Year. What do you think of the plan, Juffrouw Mabbel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That lady expressed the opinion that her husband would be opposed to
+          it, for he liked to go out of evenings, and then she must stay in the
+          shop. Besides, it was so difficult to get through with the work. No
+          one could imagine what a laborious occupation baking was.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What do you say, Juffrouw Zipperman? Don&rsquo;t you think it
+          would be a go? I would serve coffee; and the people could leave
+          something on the saucers. Really, I am not doing it for the money. We
+          would begin with the Old Testament&mdash;and then&mdash;exercise, you
+          know; practice&mdash;understand?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb53" href="#pb53">53</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Zipperman thought it would be very nice; but her son-in-law
+          had said that the preachers are paid to do this, and that any
+          additional &ldquo;exercise&rdquo; was merely an unnecessary expense.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What do you say to it, Juffrouw Krummel? Don&rsquo;t you think
+          that such a class&mdash;just a small class&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Krummel said she practiced with her husband when he came from
+          the bourse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps was now forced to turn to Mrs. Stotter, though she felt
+          that she was letting herself down in appealing to a Vrouw.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, my dear Juffrouw Laps, if you had been a midwife as long as
+          I have you&rsquo;d take no interest in a prayer-class. Now there is M&rsquo;neer
+          Littelman in Prince Street. I&rsquo;ve been at his house&mdash;always
+          in respectable houses&mdash;and he always said&mdash;it&rsquo;s a
+          house with high steps, and in the hall there&rsquo;s a big clock about
+          the wind and rain&mdash;and he always said: &lsquo;Vrouw Stotter,&rsquo;
+          said he, &lsquo;you&rsquo;re a good woman,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;and
+          a faithful midwife. I always tell the people that,&rsquo; said he,
+          &lsquo;and,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;all of my connection must send for
+          you,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;but,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;when people
+          tell you this you must act as if you didn&rsquo;t hear it&rsquo;&mdash;thank
+          you, Juffrouw Pieterse, my cup is turned over. Just as I said:
+          Everyone must know what he&rsquo;s doing.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But just a little exercise like that, Mrs. Stotter!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s possible, it&rsquo;s possible. But I&rsquo;ve had so
+          much experience in such things. I go my own way; and that&rsquo;s the
+          best way, too. For I&rsquo;ve been in the home of M&rsquo;neer Witte,
+          who has an uncle in congress&mdash;for I always go to respectable
+          places&mdash;and he always said, because he&rsquo;s so funny: &lsquo;Child-woman,
+          child-woman, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb54" href="#pb54">54</a>]</span>you&rsquo;re
+          nothing but a child-woman.&rsquo; I was just going to say that I know
+          what I&rsquo;m doing, for I&rsquo;ve seen a lot in my life. There&rsquo;s
+          M&rsquo;neer&mdash;what&rsquo;s his name? There in Prince Street&mdash;no,
+          no<span class="corr" id="xd0e1431" title="Not in source">,</span>
+          Market Square. Oh, what is his name!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reader will have noticed that Mrs. Stotter digressed from the
+          theme. But other folk do the same.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And Juffrouw Pieterse, what do you think of the idea? Just a
+          little exercise.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, my dear, I have exercise enough with my children. You don&rsquo;t
+          know what it means to bring up nine. I always worship with the
+          children, for the Bible says&mdash;Trudie, go to the baby; I hear her
+          again.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was something noble in Trudie&rsquo;s gait as she walked into
+          that back room. One could see that she felt flattered by the
+          transmission to her of maternal dignity. Little Kee, the baby, was
+          less flattered.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What were we talking about? Yes, that is my religious service.
+          The children keep me busy. You don&rsquo;t know anything about it; if
+          I bring them up properly&mdash;run, Pietje, and straighten out Simon.
+          He&rsquo;s pinching his sister again; he always does it when there&rsquo;s
+          company.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Simon was straightened out.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Whenever we have company the children behave so badly. There it
+          goes again. Myntje, go and see what&rsquo;s the matter and tell them
+          to go to sleep.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Myntje went, returning immediately with the report that they had
+          &ldquo;turned something over.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          General indignation. Angry message from the Juffrouw below. It was
+          unpleasant for the Juffrouw below when the children of the Juffrouw
+          above turned <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb55" href="#pb55">55</a>]</span>over
+          things and flooded the back room. Terrible excitement.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Finally the children were straightened out.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Zipperman again sat in the corner where there was such a
+          &ldquo;draft.&rdquo; This only goes to show that earthly greatness has
+          its dark side, and that a son-in-law in the insurance business
+          entitles one to rheumatism.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps was greatly pleased with the hearty manner in which
+          punishment was meted out to the children. It was exactly according to
+          Scripture, she said; and then she cited a text or two in which the rod
+          was prescribed. It&rsquo;s in the Bible somewhere, I don&rsquo;t know
+          where. The Bible mentions everything, and the &ldquo;rod&rdquo;
+          especially.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Now, Stoffel,&rdquo; said the hostess sweetly, &ldquo;recite
+          something for us.&rdquo; She wanted to show that her children could do
+          something else besides pinch and turn things over.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know anything,&rdquo; said Stoffel, but without a
+          trace of Socratic arrogance.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just say for us what you said the other day. Come, Stoffel.
+          That&rsquo;s the way he always is, Juffrouw Mabbel. One has to pull
+          him up on his feet before he will do anything. But then he goes all
+          right. Forward, Stoffel! He&rsquo;s tired now. Teaching in such a
+          school is hard work. Yes, Juffrouw, he&rsquo;s as smart as he can be.
+          Would you believe it? All words are either masculine or feminine. Aren&rsquo;t
+          they, Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No? But&mdash;and the other day you said&mdash;it&rsquo;s only
+          to get him started, you know, Juffrouw Zipperman<span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e1470" title="Source: .">,</span> <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb56" href="#pb56">56</a>]</span>it takes a little time, because
+          he&rsquo;s worn out with his school work&mdash;but you said that all
+          words&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother. Masculine, feminine or neuter, I said.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and still more,&rdquo; said Juffrouw Pieterse. &ldquo;You
+          will be astonished when you hear him. What do you suppose you are,
+          Juffrouw Krummel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I? What I am?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes, what you are&mdash;what you really are.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am Juffrouw Krummel,&rdquo; she said, but doubtfully; for she
+          read in the triumphant look of Juffrouw Pieterse and the tightly
+          closed lips of Stoffel that she might easily be something entirely
+          different from Juffrouw Krummel.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The tension did not need to be farther increased; so Juffrouw Pieterse
+          passed now from the special to the general. Her glance took in the
+          entire company.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you, too, Juffrouw Mabbel; and you, Juffrouw Laps; and you,
+          Juffrouw Zipperman; and you, Mrs. Stotter&mdash;what do you all think
+          you are?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No one knew.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This will not be surprising to anyone who knows how difficult
+          knowledge of the &ldquo;self&rdquo; is; but Stoffel had something else
+          in mind. There was a deeper meaning involved.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps was the first to answer, and she spoke with proud
+          self-sufficiency:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am Juffrouw Laps!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Wrong, wrong&mdash;entirely wrong!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But for Heaven sake, am I not Juffrouw Laps?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Y-e-s. Of course you are Juffrouw Laps; but <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb57" href="#pb57">57</a>]</span>Stoffel didn&rsquo;t
+          ask who you were, but what you were. There&rsquo;s the fine point.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What I am? I&rsquo;m Dutch Reform!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Y-e-s. That you are, too; but&mdash;it isn&rsquo;t that. The
+          question is, What <i>are</i> you? Help her out, Stoffel.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Between puffs of smoke, and with the air of a professor, Stoffel
+          proceeded to &ldquo;help&rdquo;:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Laps, I wished to know what you were from a zo&ouml;logical
+          standpoint.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t have anything more to do with it,&rdquo; said
+          Juffrouw Laps in the tone of one who feels that he is going to be
+          insulted.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am a midwife,&rdquo; said Mrs. Stotter, &ldquo;and I&rsquo;m
+          going to stick to it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And I am the baker&rsquo;s wife,&rdquo; cried Juffrouw Mabbel,
+          with a positiveness in her tone which showed her intention to hold to
+          this opinion.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, certainly, Juffrouw Mabbel; but I mean from a zo&ouml;logical
+          standpoint.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If it&rsquo;s going to be indecent, I prefer to go home.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I, too,&rdquo; added Juffrouwen Krummel and Zipperman. &ldquo;We
+          came here to be entertained.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But you&rsquo;re not going to get angry about it! I tell you,
+          it&rsquo;s in the book, Stoffel&mdash;you will laugh when you hear it,
+          Juffrouw Mabbel; and the best part of it is, that it&rsquo;s in the
+          book, and one can&rsquo;t say anything against it. Tell her, Stoffel!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Laps,&rdquo; said Stoffel with dignity&mdash;an
+          important moment in Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s tea-evening had arrived&mdash;&ldquo;Juffrouw
+          Laps, you are a <i>sucking animal</i>.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I admit frankly that I cannot adequately describe <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb58" href="#pb58">58</a>]</span>the crisis that followed these
+          two words. If Stoffel had only said mammal, perhaps then my task would
+          have been easier.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s face took on all the different colors that are
+          generally supposed to express anger. She had been attacked more openly
+          than the others, it is true; but her attitude toward the prayer-class
+          would go to show that she was naturally polemical.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In French novels people used to turn green; but Juffrouw Laps did not
+          read French, so she stopped at a terrible violet and screamed&mdash;no,
+          she didn&rsquo;t. She didn&rsquo;t scream anything; for she was
+          choking for breath. But she did pulverize that piece of ginger cake;
+          and she looked at Stoffel and his mother in a manner that would have
+          been most damaging for her if those two persons had happened to die
+          that night.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Imitating the trick of the cuttle-fish, no doubt unconsciously,
+          Stoffel managed to escape this fatal stare by enveloping himself in a
+          heavy cloud of smoke. Juffrouw Pieterse, however, not being a smoker,
+          was at the mercy of Juffrouw Laps. She stammered humbly: &ldquo;It&rsquo;s
+          in the book, really it&rsquo;s in the book. Don&rsquo;t be angry, it&rsquo;s
+          in the book.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          By this time Juffrouw Laps was getting a little air, so much that
+          there was now no danger of her suffocating. She threw the mutilated
+          remains of the ginger cake on the table and began:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Pieterse, you are nothing but a low, vile, filthy&mdash;you
+          may even be a sucking animal, you and your son too. I want you to
+          understand that I&rsquo;ve always been respectable. My father sold
+          grain, and nobody&rsquo;s ever been able to say anything against me!
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb59" href="#pb59">59</a>]</span>Ask
+          everybody about me&mdash;if I&rsquo;ve ever run with men-folk, and
+          such things; and if I haven&rsquo;t always paid my debts. He was
+          manager I would have you understand, and we lived over the
+          chapter-house, for he was in the grain business, and you can ask about
+          me there. Thank God, you can ask about me everywhere&mdash;do you
+          hear? But never, never, never, has such a thing happened to me. What
+          you put on me! If it wasn&rsquo;t for lowering myself I&rsquo;d tell
+          you what I think of you&mdash;you sucking animal, you and your son and
+          your whole family. My father sold grain, and I&rsquo;m too <span
+          class="corr" id="xd0e1551" title="Source: resectable">respectable</span>
+          for you to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But&mdash;it&rsquo;s in the book that way. For God&rsquo;s sake
+          believe me; it&rsquo;s in the book.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just hold your lip about your book. Anybody who sells God&rsquo;s
+          holy word on the Ouwebrug needn&rsquo;t talk to me about books.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This accusation was false; for Walter, and not his mother, had sold
+          the Bible; but this was no time for such fine distinctions.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Stoffel, go get the book and show Juffrouw&mdash;my God, what
+          shall I do!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Go to the Devil with your book and your sucking animals. You&rsquo;ve
+          got nothing to show in your book. I know you&mdash;and your lout of a
+          son, and your wenches of daughters, that are growing up like&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Truitje, Myntje and Pietje, understanding from this that there was
+          something radically wrong with their growth, began to screech too.
+          Other members of the party bawled a word from time to time, as
+          opportunity presented itself. Then came another message from the
+          Juffrouw below. This time she threatened to <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb60" href="#pb60">60</a>]</span>call in the police. The children,
+          taking advantage of the general excitement to break the ban under
+          which they had been placed, had left the bed and were now listening at
+          the keyhole. Juffrouw Pieterse was calling for the camphor bottle,
+          declaring that she was going to die; Mrs. Stotter was clamoring for
+          her wrap&mdash;her &ldquo;old one&rdquo;; and Stoffel was playing
+          cuttle-fish as well as he could.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All had got up and were going to leave. They could &ldquo;put up with
+          a good deal,&rdquo; but that was &ldquo;too much&rdquo;! Juffrouw
+          Krummel was going to tell her husband; Juffrouw Zipperman was going to
+          let everybody in the insurance business know about it; Mrs. Stotter
+          was going to relate the whole story to the gentleman in Prince Street;
+          and Juffrouw Mabbel&mdash;I forget whom she was going to tell it all
+          to. In short, every one of them was going to see to it that the affair
+          was well aired.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Who knows but what these threats would have been carried out, if the
+          good genius of the Pieterses had not at that moment caused someone to
+          ring the door-bell? It was that worthy gentleman whom we left in such
+          a state of pious despair at the close of the last chapter. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb61" href="#pb61">61</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch9" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter IX
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Yes, the door-bell rang. And it rang again: So it was &ldquo;for us.&rdquo;
+          Juffrouw Pieterse drew a long breath; and I must say, she did a very
+          proper thing. While admitting that it is foolish to say what one would
+          do if one were somebody else, still, in her place I should have drawn
+          a long breath, too. Firstly, because I imagine she hadn&rsquo;t done
+          this for a long time; secondly, because I know how, in adverse
+          circumstances, every change and interruption gives one ground for
+          hope; and, finally, because I think Juffrouw Pieterse was human, just
+          like the rest of us.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, my dears,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;be peaceable. It must be
+          the gentlemen.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The ladies declared it couldn&rsquo;t be the gentlemen, because it was
+          too early for them; and this very doubt and uncertainty as to who it
+          might be gave the crisis a favorable turn.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mere uncertainty, even when in no way connected with what is occupying
+          us, has a sort of paralyzing effect. Besides, when one is interrupted
+          in one&rsquo;s anger, afterwards it is difficult to find the place
+          where one left off.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This was Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s experience; she tried it, but it wouldn&rsquo;t
+          work. Her &ldquo;a sucking animal, a sucking animal!&rdquo; was
+          smothered by, &ldquo;What can it mean? He never comes before ten!&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb62" href="#pb62">62</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse quickly availed herself of this diversion to get
+          them all seated again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Trudie was commissioned to &ldquo;straighten out&rdquo; the children,
+          who came off rather badly. The hostess was just about to state a new
+          zo&ouml;logical argument, which should establish peace between the
+          hostile parties, when the door opened and Master Pennewip stood before
+          the agitated assembly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He, too, was agitated: the reader knows it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The surprise caused by the arrival of this unexpected visitor had a
+          most favorable effect on the peace negotiations. A truce was tacitly
+          declared, though not without the proviso, at least on Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s
+          part, that hostilities should be reopened as soon as curiosity as to
+          Pennewip&rsquo;s visit had been sufficiently satisfied. Indeed, she
+          was all the more willing for a truce, as it was evident from the man&rsquo;s
+          appearance that there was something momentous at hand. His wig cried
+          out fire and murder in unmistakable tones. And that was just what the
+          good Juffrouw Laps liked.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Good-evening, Juffrouw Pieterse; my humblest respects. I see
+          you have company, but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That &lsquo;doesn&rsquo;t make a bit of difference,&rsquo;
+          Master Pennewip.&lsquo;Come right in and take a seat.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          These forms of expression were rigidly observed in the &ldquo;citizen
+          populace,&rdquo; III, 7. c.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Won&rsquo;t you drink a cup with us?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Pieterse,&rdquo; he said with extreme dignity, &ldquo;I
+          didn&rsquo;t come here simply to drink a cup of sage-milk.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Master Pennewip, please be seated!&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb63" href="#pb63">63</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It wasn&rsquo;t easy; but the ladies made room and he was soon seated.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He cleared up his throat and looked about him with dignity. Then he
+          drew a roll of manuscript from his pocket, disarranged his wig and
+          spoke:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Pieterse! You are a worthy, respectable woman, and
+          your husband sold shoes&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse looked triumphantly at Juffrouw Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Master Pennewip, quite so; he did&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t <span class="corr" id="xd0e1620"
+          title="Source: interupt">interrupt</span> me, Juffrouw Pieterse. Your
+          departed husband sold shoes. I have taught your children from little
+          tots up to their confirmation. Haven&rsquo;t I, Juffrouw Pieterse?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Master Pennewip,&rdquo; she replied modestly; for she was
+          afraid of that excessive dignity in Pennewip&rsquo;s manner and voice.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And I just want to ask you, Juffrouw Pieterse, whether, during
+          all this time that your children were in my school, you ever heard any
+          complaints&mdash;reasonable complaints&mdash;of the manner in which I,
+          with my wife, instructed your children in reading, writing,
+          arithmetic, national history, psalmody, sewing, knitting, drawing and
+          religion? I put the question to you, Juffrouw Pieterse, and wait for a
+          reply.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          An awful silence followed this speech. The Juffrouw below had every
+          reason to be satisfied.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Master Pennewip&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want any &lsquo;but&rsquo;, Juffrouw Pieterse. I
+          ask you, whether you have had any complaints. I <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb64" href="#pb64">64</a>]</span>mean, of course, well grounded
+          complaints about my instruction in reading, writing, arithmetic&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, no, Master Pennewip, I have no complaints; but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So-oo? No complaints? Well, then I will explain to you&mdash;where
+          is your son Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Walter? Dear me! Hasn&rsquo;t he come home, Trudie? He went to
+          take a walk with the Halleman boys. They are such respectable
+          children, Master Pennewip, and they live&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So! With the Hallemans&mdash;who go to the French school! Aha,
+          and that&rsquo;s it? So&mdash;from the Hallemans! And he learns such
+          things from the Hallemans&mdash;the Hallemans <i>III, 7, a<sup>2</sup></i>,
+          perhaps &lsquo;<i>a</i>&rsquo;&mdash;yes, who knows but that it might
+          be <i>II</i>. It&rsquo;s no wonder&mdash;immorality, viciousness&mdash;at
+          the French school! And now, Juffrouw Pieterse, I want to tell you that
+          your son&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What did you say?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Master Pennewip looked about him as if he were drinking in the
+          breathless silence that had fallen over his hearers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps hastened to repay with compound interest that triumphant
+          look of the hostess, while that lady, thoroughly miserable, was making
+          frequent use of the camphor bottle. She was not so much mortified that
+          Juffrouw Laps should hear something else unfavorable about Walter, who
+          had caused them so much trouble, as angry that she should be the
+          witness of an accusation that would give her a new weapon in the zo&ouml;logical
+          fray.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t I tell you so? Nothing good will ever <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb65" href="#pb65">65</a>]</span>come to this
+          Walter. A boy that begins with the Bible will end with something else.
+          Yes, Master Pennewip, I&rsquo;m not surprised&mdash;I shouldn&rsquo;t
+          be surprised at anything he did. I&rsquo;ve seen it coming for a long
+          time. But what shouldn&rsquo;t one expect from a family&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As quick as a flash Juffrouw Pieterse saw here her opportunity to
+          recover her lost advantage. Stoffel had said it was in the book; but a
+          teacher must know whatever is in a book. Therefore&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Master Pennewip,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;Is it true that
+          Juffrouw Laps is a sucking animal?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I am convinced that Pennewip brought this question under a special
+          category for &ldquo;peculiar overflowings of the heart,&rdquo; seeing
+          that it followed upon his unfinished accusation against Walter. He
+          looked over his glasses and slowly described with his eye a circle,
+          peopled with women holding their breath, heads and necks stretched out
+          and mouths wide open. The attitude of Juffrouw Laps was threatening
+          above everything else, and said quite distinctly: Answer or die! Am I
+          a sucking animal?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;With whom have I the honor to speak?&rdquo; he asked, probably
+          not considering that this question made the matter still more
+          mysterious, giving the impression that Laps&rsquo;s animal quality
+          depended upon her name, age, place of residence, family relations,
+          etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am Juffrouw Laps,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and live down
+          stairs in the front part of the house.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah&mdash;so! Yes, indeed you belong to the class of sucking
+          animals.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A ten-fold sigh was heaved; and Juffrouw Pieterse was again
+          triumphant. In politics and the citizen <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb66" href="#pb66">66</a>]</span>populace complete equilibrium is
+          impossible. The parties or powers are in continual motion, first one
+          in the ascendency, then the other.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps, who had not been able to accomplish anything with
+          pride, now attempted good humor.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But Master Pennewip,&rdquo; she said sweetly, &ldquo;how can
+          you say such a thing? My father was in the grain business and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Laps, answer me one question.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Master Pennewip, but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Answer me, Juffrouw Laps, where do you live?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where I live? Why, in my room, down stairs&mdash;two windows&mdash;front
+          entrance&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You miss the significance of my question entirely, Juffrouw
+          Laps. The meaning would be similar if I were to ask you if you
+          belonged to that class of organisms that live in oyster-shells.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes, Juffrouw Laps,&rdquo; cried the triumphant hostess,
+          &ldquo;that&rsquo;s the point&mdash;the main point!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And Stoffel added that it was really and truly the main point.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps saw that she was hopelessly lost, for she had to admit
+          to herself that she didn&rsquo;t usually reside in an oyster-shell.
+          She looked at the teacher with astonishment; but he paid no attention
+          at all to the effect of his questions. Assuming a sort of legal manner&mdash;which
+          was closely imitated by his wig, he continued:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Can you live in water? Have you gills?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;In water? But&mdash;Master Pennewip&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig to the left, which meant: No, but! <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb67" href="#pb67">67</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Or half in water, half on land?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Master Pennewip, how should I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig to the right: No subterfuges.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Answer me, Juffrouw Laps, have you cold blood? Do you bring
+          living young into the world?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It is a sin, Master Pennewip!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig now looked like a battering-ram, anticipating the nature of
+          the next question.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Can you lay eggs, Juffrouw Laps? I only ask you the question.
+          Can you lay eggs? Eh?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She said she couldn&rsquo;t.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then you are a sucking animal, Juffrouw Laps!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig was in the middle again resting quietly. It had vanquished
+          Juffrouw Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I wonder what the reader&rsquo;s idea is of the effect produced on the
+          company by this terrible sentence, against which there could be no
+          appeal. There was something pitiless in Pennewip&rsquo;s manner, and
+          in his contracted eyebrows there was no intimation of mercy. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb68" href="#pb68">68</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch10" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter X
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The attentive reader who knows human nature will naturally wish to
+          know why I closed the last chapter so tamely, and why that zo&ouml;logical
+          problem which, only a short time before had caused such a violent
+          explosion, was now allowed to rest in peace.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There are three reasons for this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Firstly, the women had been so wrought up that they were now
+          exhausted.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Secondly, Juffrouw Laps, the shrewd leader of the fight, looked over
+          the battlefield and, without thinking of the famous battle between the
+          Horatii and the Curiatii, saw with innate tactical talent the
+          correctness of &ldquo;divide and conquer.&rdquo; With the forces
+          Stotter, Mabbel, Krummel and Zipperman against the house of Pieterse&mdash;that
+          was all right. But now that the house was supported by Pennewip&rsquo;s
+          powerful hand, it was prudent to withdraw from the battle. For who
+          could guarantee her that she might depend upon her allies? What
+          assurance had she that the midwife, or even Juffrouw Zipperman would
+          not go over to the enemy?&mdash;if only out of deference to the
+          versatile wig! No, no, no! She wouldn&rsquo;t risk her rhetorical
+          artillery in such a doubtful engagement! She was content to say to
+          herself, &ldquo;I will get even with you later.&rdquo; Imagining her,
+          with all her relations to society, multiplied <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb69" href="#pb69">69</a>]</span>by twenty or thirty millions, we
+          would have read the next day in this or that official Laps organ
+          something like this:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Our relations with the Pietersian empire are most cordial. The
+          recent friendly meeting between the two sovereigns was merely that
+          they might have the mutual pleasure of seeing one another, and had no
+          political significance whatever. It will be seen how unfounded were
+          those rumors of &lsquo;strained relations,&rsquo; which were said to
+          have been brought about by a discussion of certain characteristics of
+          our popular princess. The reader will recall that we never gave
+          credence to those rumors, and reported them with great reserve.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thirdly. The third and chief cause of the armistice was&mdash;curiosity.
+          Under the present changed circumstances whoever betrayed any anger
+          would have to leave; and whoever left would not find out why Master
+          Pennewip had come, or what new crime Walter had committed. Again we
+          see the truth of the proposition, that everything has its good side.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Master Pennewip,&rdquo; asked Juffrouw Pieterse&mdash;she
+          threw the subdued sucking animal a look that was like a triumphant
+          telegram, and read: Where are you now?&mdash;&ldquo;but Master
+          Pennewip, what has Walter been doing now?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, what has he been up to this time,&rdquo; added Juffrouw
+          Laps, delighted that the conversation had taken this turn, and that
+          she was now to hear about Walter&rsquo;s latest sin.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For the sinner is a thing in which pious persons find much
+          edification. As we have already seen, Juffrouw Laps was fond of
+          edification. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb70" href="#pb70">70</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Pennewip was just on the point of beginning his indictment when the
+          door-bell rang. It rang again: &ldquo;It&rsquo;s for us&rdquo;&mdash;and
+          in a moment our truant walked into the room.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was paler than usual, and with good reason; for strange things had
+          happened to him since Fancy had lifted him up and borne him away.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Pieterse,&rdquo; began Pennewip, &ldquo;my school is
+          famous, even as far away as Kattenburg. Do you hear me?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Master Pennewip.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I repeat it: Famous! And, too, chiefly on account of the fine
+          moral there&mdash;I mean, of course, in my school. Religion and
+          morality occupy the first place in my school. I could show you verses
+          on the Deity&mdash;but I pass over that. It is sufficient for you to
+          know that my school is famous as far as&mdash;but what am I talking
+          about&mdash;I&rsquo;ve even had a boy from Wittenburg; and I was once
+          consulted about the education of a boy whose father lived at
+          Muiderberg.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, Master Pennewip!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Juffrouw, I still have the letter and could show it to
+          you. The man was a gravedigger&mdash;the boy painted inappropriate
+          figures on the coffins. And just for this reason I feel it my duty to
+          tell you that I don&rsquo;t intend to see my school lose its good name
+          through that good-for-nothing boy of yours there!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Poor Walter had fallen from the clouds. That sounded quite different
+          from a papal appointment&mdash;which he really no longer cared for, as
+          he had just received another appointment that pleased him better.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His mother wanted to pass immediately to what she <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb71" href="#pb71">71</a>]</span>called her &ldquo;divine worship&rdquo;
+          and give him a sound thrashing, in order to satisfy the teacher that
+          religion and morality took the first place in her house, too.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But the teacher found it preferable to tell the party what the trouble
+          was, and incidentally to strengthen the feeling of guilt in the
+          patient.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Your son belongs to the class of robbers, murderers, ravishers
+          of women, incendiaries&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was all.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Holy grace! Heavenly righteousness! Compassionate Christian
+          souls! Ah, divine and human virtue, is it possible! What must we
+          endure!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I cannot always be exact; but, in general, such was the flood of
+          exclamations that all but swept away that ten-year-old robber,
+          murderer, ravisher of women and incendiary.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am going to read you something from his hand,&rdquo; said the
+          teacher, &ldquo;and then if anybody still doubts the boy&rsquo;s
+          viciousness&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All tacitly promised to have no doubts.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The work that the teacher read was indeed of such a nature as to leave
+          small room for doubts; and I, who have chosen Walter for my hero,
+          anticipate difficulty in convincing the reader that he was not so bad
+          as he seemed&mdash;after his
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            &ldquo;<span class="smallcaps">Robber Song.</span>&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;On the steed,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Off I speed,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            With helmet on head
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And a sword in my hand and the enemy dead;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Quick, away!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb72" href="#pb72">72</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Christian souls,&rdquo; cried the whole party, &ldquo;is he
+          mad?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Rather late,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Near the gate
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            A push and a blow,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Vanquished dragoon, Margrave laid low&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Heaven save us, what has he against the Margrave,&rdquo; wailed
+          the mother.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;For the spoil!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see, it&rsquo;s for booty,&rdquo; said Juffrouw
+          Laps. &ldquo;I told you so: He began with the Bible, he&rsquo;ll end
+          with&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;And the prize&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Pretty eyes&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Did you ever hear the like&mdash;he has scarcely shed his milk
+          teeth!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;And the prize&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Pretty eyes&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            She was bought with steel&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;With ste-e-l!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;And the prize&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Pretty eyes&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            She was bought with steel;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            I bore her away to the cave just to feel
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            How it seemed.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Heavenly grace, what is he going to do in the cave?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;In my arm,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Free from harm
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Lay the maid as we sped;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Her cries, sweet complaints, and the tears&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb73" href="#pb73">73</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, blessed peace, and the poor thing crying!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Her cries, sweet complaints, and the tears she shed&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            O, delight!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And he calls that delight! I&rsquo;m getting right cold.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Then again,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            O&rsquo;er the plain&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Holy Father, there he goes again!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Then again,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            O&rsquo;er the plain.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Right and left, nothing spurned,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Here a villa destroyed or a cloister burned
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            For fun.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The Devil is in that boy. For fun!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Farther yet,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            I forget&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            But the deeds they were dire,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And the road was marked with blood and fire
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And revenge!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mercy on us! What had they done to him!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Revenge&rsquo;s sweet,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And is meet
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            For the King of the World&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is he crazy? I&rsquo;ll make him a king!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Revenge&rsquo;s sweet
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And is meet
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            For the King of the World,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Who alone is supreme, with a banner unfurled
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Forever!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What sort of a thing is he talking about?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;All! Hurrah!
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            But, I say&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb74" href="#pb74">74</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          Everybody shuddered.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;All! Hurrah!
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            But, I say
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            No pardon shall be lavished,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            The men shall be hanged and the women&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Trudie, Trudie, the camphor bottle! You see&mdash;I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;The men shall be hanged and the women ravished&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The camphor bottle! Trudie, Trudie!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;For pleasure!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;For pleasure,&rdquo; repeated the teacher in a grave-yard
+          voice, &ldquo;for pleasure!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He&mdash;does&mdash;it&mdash;for&mdash;pleasure!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The company was stupefied. Even Stoffel&rsquo;s pipe had gone out.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Walter&rsquo;s was not a nature to be easily disturbed. After his
+          mother had beaten him till she came to her senses again, he went to
+          bed in the little back room, far from dissatisfied with the day&rsquo;s
+          work, and was soon dreaming of Fancy. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb75" href="#pb75">75</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch11" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XI
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          On the next day things had largely resumed their wonted course. That
+          someone may not charge me with carelessness, or indifference towards
+          the persons with whom we spent a pleasant evening, I will remark in
+          passing that Juffrouw Mabbel was again busy with her baking and
+          &ldquo;clairvoyange,&rdquo; and that Mrs. Stotter had resumed her
+          activities with the stork. Those unfortunate creatures who were
+          committed to her care she condemned to lie motionless for two or three
+          months&mdash;perhaps to give the newly born an idea of their new
+          career, and, at the same time, to punish them for the shameful uproar
+          they had caused by their birth.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As for Master Pennewip, he was busy, as usual, educating future
+          grandparents of the past. His wig had not yet recovered from the
+          excitement of the night before and was longing for Sunday.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Klaasje van der Gracht had been awarded the prize with an impressive,
+          &ldquo;Keep on that way, my boy&rdquo;; and he kept on. I still see
+          poems in the papers whose clearness, conciseness and sublimity betray
+          his master hand. I have heard that he died of smallpox&mdash;he had
+          not been vaccinated; it will be remembered&mdash;but I consider it my
+          duty to protect him from any such slander. A genius does not die;
+          otherwise it wouldn&rsquo;t be worth while to be born a genius. Still,
+          if Klaas <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb76" href="#pb76">76</a>]</span>had
+          died like other people, his spirit would have lived in those coming
+          after him. And that is a beautiful immortality.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The family de Wilde, too, has not died out, and will not die. I am
+          certain of it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Krummel asked her husband if she was really a &ldquo;sucking
+          animal.&rdquo; Being from the bourse, and having much worldly wisdom,
+          he replied after reflection that of such things he didn&rsquo;t
+          believe more than half he heard. &ldquo;In this case the last half,&rdquo;
+          he added&mdash;but softly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Zipperman had caught a cold; but was still able to boast
+          about her son-in-law. She was a &ldquo;respectable woman.&rdquo; Only
+          she couldn&rsquo;t endure for Juffrouw Laps to talk so much about
+          &ldquo;virtue,&rdquo; and the &ldquo;respectability&rdquo; of her
+          father, who was &ldquo;in the grain business.&rdquo; Old Man Laps, she
+          said, was not <i>in</i>, but <i>under</i> the grain business. He had
+          carried sacks of grain, but that was quite different from selling
+          grain. For the man who sells is much bigger than the man who carries.
+          Juffrouw, therefore, had been making misleading statements.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Trudie and her sisters had decked themselves out as well as possible
+          and were sitting at the window. When young people passed by they
+          looked as if they had never in their lives straightened out anybody.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Juffrouw in the rear below told the grocer that she was going to
+          move out; for it was just scandalous, simply scandalous the way the
+          Pieterses carried on in their back room; that she couldn&rsquo;t leave
+          anything uncovered.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse was busy with her household, <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb77" href="#pb77">77</a>]</span>and looked like a working woman.
+          From time to time she had &ldquo;divine service&rdquo; with the
+          children, who, if they could have had their choice, would have
+          preferred to have been born among the Alfures, Dajaks, or some other
+          benighted people whose religion is less strenuous.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I am glad to be able to say that Juffrouw Laps had passed a good
+          night. I should like to tell more about her, but I don&rsquo;t care to
+          exhaust myself.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel had returned to school, and was trying to inspire the boys
+          with contempt for riches. He was using on them a poem that had
+          probably been written in a garret by some poor devil or other whose
+          wealth gave him little cause for complaint. The boys were inattentive,
+          and seemed not to grasp the peculiar pleasure in having no money to
+          buy marbles. Stoffel attributed their hard-heartedness to Walter&rsquo;s
+          crazy ideas: They had heard of his attack on the Margrave and of that
+          remarkable visit to the cave.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And Walter?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He still lived in expectation of the punishment he deserved so richly.
+          For his mother had given him to understand repeatedly that the little
+          &ldquo;straightening out&rdquo; of the evening before was merely for
+          practice, and that the reward of his sin would be delayed till she
+          could speak with the preacher about it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In the meanwhile Walter didn&rsquo;t know what to do. He couldn&rsquo;t
+          return to school: Pennewip had closed for him that fountain of
+          knowledge.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Nor was he allowed to go out for a walk. &ldquo;Who knows what he will
+          do if I let him out of my sight?&rdquo; said his mother, who was
+          presumably afraid that he <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb78"
+          href="#pb78">78</a>]</span>might make a fresh attack on the cloisters.
+          As a matter of fact, she denied him this privilege merely because
+          Walter asked it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She expressed the opinion that it was best not to let bad children
+          have their own way.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If Walter had been right wise, he would have pretended to be
+          thoroughly in love with that dark back room; then, for his moral
+          improvement, he would have been chased down the steps, and away to his
+          sawmills.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Walter was not smart.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was forbidden to go into the front room because the young ladies
+          did not care to see him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That back room was more than dark: It was narrow, and dirty, and
+          reeked with all the fumes of &ldquo;III, 7, c.&rdquo; But Walter was
+          used to all this and much more. He had always been a martyr&mdash;bandages,
+          poultices, bandy legs, biblical history, rickets, poems on goodness,
+          evening prayers, the judgment day, hobgoblins for wicked children,
+          closed eyes before and after the slice of bread, sleeping with crooked
+          knees, committing sins, fear for the torn breeches, &ldquo;divine
+          service&rdquo; with and without sensible accompaniment!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That droll robber song, whose origin we know so well, shows how easily
+          his childish soul was moved by whatever seemed great to him. He was a
+          pure child, and he was a good boy. He wouldn&rsquo;t have hurt a fly.
+          The criminal character of his song was due to his desire to grasp what
+          is greater than everything else and to be the leader in that world
+          created by his childish fancy. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb79"
+          href="#pb79">79</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Robber&mdash;good! But a first-class robber, a robber of robbers, a
+          robber without mercy&mdash;for pleasure!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As to the gross mistreatment of women mentioned in his song, he had no
+          idea what it meant. He used the word for the sake of rhyme, and
+          because from certain sentences in his book he had got the impression
+          that it must afford great pleasure.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If, perchance, for those fourteen stivers Grandisson&mdash;weary
+          remembrance&mdash;had fallen into his hands, his Wednesday&rsquo;s
+          poem would have been quite different. No doubt he would have sought a
+          reconciliation with the butcher&rsquo;s Keesje, forgiving him
+          completely all his liberties with &ldquo;Holland nobility&rdquo; and
+          even presenting him a few slate pencils.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For that is the striking characteristic of spirits such as Walter&rsquo;s.
+          Whatever they are, they are that with all their might, always going
+          further in any direction than they would seem to be warranted in doing
+          by the mere external circumstances.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          From such characters we could hope much, if through some chance&mdash;<i>i.
+          e.</i>, a natural cause, which we call chance, because we do not <span
+          class="corr" id="xd0e2035" title="Source: undestand">understand</span>
+          it and are ashamed to admit our ignorance&mdash;if through some chance
+          they were not born among people who do not understand them, and,
+          therefore, mistreat them.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It is one of our peculiarities that we like to mistreat anyone whose
+          soul is differently organized from ours. How does the watch move? asks
+          the child, and cannot rest until he has torn apart the wheels he could
+          not understand. There the watch lies in pieces, and the little
+          miscreant excuses himself with the remark that he just wanted to see
+          how it was made. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb80" href="#pb80">80</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch12" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Walter sat with his elbows on the table, his chin resting in his
+          hands. He seemed to be deeply interested in Leentje&rsquo;s sewing,
+          but we shall see in a moment that his thoughts were elsewhere, and,
+          too, far away from III. 7, c.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          They had forbidden her to speak to the shameless rascal, and only
+          occasionally, when Juffrouw Pieterse left the room, did she have an
+          opportunity to whisper to him a few words of comfort. To be sure, she
+          noticed that Walter was not so sad as we should expect one to be who
+          was caught in between the thrashing of yesterday and the priest of
+          to-morrow. This gentleman was to come to-morrow to settle the matter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Walter, how could you speak of burning cloisters!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, I meant&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And the Count&mdash;what had he done?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It was a Margrave&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What sort of a count is that? I&rsquo;ll bet he was one out of
+          another house.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, it was Amalia&rsquo;s father&mdash;but that isn&rsquo;t
+          it. I have something to tell you, Leentje&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Amalia&mdash;who is Amalia?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That was my bride, but&mdash;Leentje, I wanted to tell you
+          something&mdash;sh!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb81"
+          href="#pb81">81</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Your bride! Are you mad, Walter? Your bride?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, she was; but now no more. I was going to help her&mdash;but
+          a duck came&mdash;but that isn&rsquo;t it, Leentje. Now I see it all&mdash;sh.
+          I swam by&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Who, what? Swam by?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;By Amalia. She sat on the rushes&mdash;now I understand it all&mdash;I
+          am&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand a word, Walter. But the women&mdash;why
+          did you want to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Poor innocent Leentje.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The women were in the book&mdash;but listen, I am&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And the cloisters?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That has nothing to do with it&mdash;I know everything now.
+          Listen Leentje, I am&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;For Heaven sake, Walter, what&rsquo;s the matter with you? You
+          look as if you were mad.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had a vision. He stretched himself up, cast a proud glance at
+          the beams in the ceiling, placed his right hand over his heart,
+          extended his left, as if he were draping a Spanish mantle about him&mdash;remember
+          that he had never been in a theatre&mdash;and said:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Leentje, I am a prince.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At that moment his mother came in, boxed his ears and sent him out of
+          the room.
+        </p>
+        <hr class="tb" />
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s principality was in the moon&mdash;no, much farther
+          away.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In the following the reader shall learn how he had attained to this
+          new dignity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Long before the beginning of this story&mdash;yes, a long <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb82" href="#pb82">82</a>]</span>time before
+          this&mdash;there was a queen of spirits, just like in &ldquo;Hans
+          Heiling.&rdquo; Her name was A&mdash;&mdash;o.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She did not live in a cave, but held her court far up in the clouds;
+          and this was airier and more suitable for a queen.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She wore a necklace of stars, and a sun was set in her signet-ring.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Whenever she went forth, the clouds flew about like dust, and with a
+          motion of her hand she drove away the firmaments.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Her children played with planets as with marbles, and she complained
+          that it was so difficult for her to find them again when they had
+          rolled away under the furniture.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The little son of the queen, <span class="corr" id="xd0e2111"
+          title="Source: Price">Prince</span> Upsilon, was peevish over this and
+          was continually calling for more playthings.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The queen then gave him a sack of siriuses; but in a short time these,
+          too, were all lost. It was Upsilon&rsquo;s own fault: He ought to have
+          paid more attention to his playthings.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          They tried to satisfy him as best they could, but no matter what they
+          gave him, he always wanted something else, something larger. This was
+          a defect in the character of the little prince.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mother, who, as queen of the spirits, was a very intelligent
+          woman, thought it would be a good idea for the little prince to
+          accustom himself to privations.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She issued an order, therefore, that for a certain time Upsilon was to
+          have no playthings.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The order was carried out. Everything was taken <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb83" href="#pb83">83</a>]</span>away from him, even the comet
+          that he and his little sister Omicron happened to be playing with.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Prince Upsilon was somewhat stubborn. He so far forgot himself one day
+          as to speak disrespectfully to his mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Even Princess Omicron was contaminated by his example&mdash;nothing is
+          worse than a bad example&mdash;and violently threw her pallet against
+          the universe. That was not becoming in a girl.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Now, in the kingdom of spirits, there was a law to the effect, that
+          anyone showing disrespect toward the queen, or throwing anything
+          against the universe, should be deprived of all titles and dignities
+          for a certain length of time.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Prince Upsilon became a grain of sand.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After he had behaved himself well in this capacity for a few centuries
+          he received the news that he had been promoted to be a moss plant.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then one morning he woke up and found himself a coral zo&ouml;phyte.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That occurred about the time that man began to cook his food.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was industrious, building up islands and continents on the earth.
+          In recognition of his zeal he was turned into a crab.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In this capacity, too, there could be no complaint against him, and he
+          was soon transferred to the class of sea-serpents.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He played some innocent pranks on sailors, but he never harmed anyone.
+          Soon he received four feet and the rank of a mastodon, with the
+          privilege of roaming over the land. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb84"
+          href="#pb84">84</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With the self-control of a philosopher he entered upon his new life,
+          busying himself with geological investigations.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A few centuries later&mdash;remember that in the kingdom of spirits
+          all time taken together is only as a short quarter of an hour&mdash;or
+          to speak more correctly, that all time is nothing. For time was made
+          merely for man, for his amusement, and given to him just as we give
+          picture books to children. For spirits, present, past and future are
+          all the same. They comprehend yesterday, to-day and to-morrow at a
+          glance, just as one reads a word without spelling it out. What was and
+          is going to be, <i>is</i>.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Egyptians and Ph&oelig;nicians knew that very well, but Christians
+          have forgotten it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Fancy knew that Walter could not read, so she related Upsilon&rsquo;s
+          story to him, just as I am doing for the reader.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Some centuries later he had become an elephant; then a moment later,
+          <i>i. e.</i>, about ten years before the opening of my story&mdash;I
+          mean years as we mortals reckon them&mdash;he was elevated to the
+          class of man.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I don&rsquo;t know what sins he may have committed as an elephant.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Anyway, Fancy had said, that in order to return to his station as a
+          spirit-prince in a short time and escape any further degradation it
+          was necessary for him to be diligent and well behaved in his present
+          state, and not write any robber songs, or slip out things and sell
+          them&mdash;even if it was only a Bible.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And, too, he must become reconciled to seeing Juffrouw <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb85" href="#pb85">85</a>]</span>Pieterse
+          without a train on her dress. Fancy said it couldn&rsquo;t be helped.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This &ldquo;Fancy&rdquo; must have been some lady at his mother&rsquo;s
+          court, who visited him in his exile to comfort and encourage him, so
+          that he wouldn&rsquo;t think they were punishing him because they were
+          angry with him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She promised to visit him from time to time. &ldquo;But,&rdquo; asked
+          Walter, &ldquo;how is my little sister getting along?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She&rsquo;s being punished, too. You know the law. She is
+          patient with it all and promises to improve. At first she was a
+          fire-ball; but she behaved so nicely that she was soon changed to a
+          moon-beam; and also in this state there was nothing against her. It
+          seemed to be a pleasure for her; and it was all her mother could do to
+          keep from shortening the punishment. She was soon turned into vapor,
+          and stood the test well; for she filled the universe. That was about
+          the time you began to eat grass. Soon she was a butterfly. But your
+          mother did not consider this suitable for a girl and had her changed
+          into a constellation. There she stands before us now.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It often happens that we do not see a thing because it is too big.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Look,&rdquo; said Fancy. &ldquo;There&mdash;to the right! No,
+          further&mdash;there, there&mdash;the north star! That is her left eye.
+          You can&rsquo;t see her right, because she is bending over towards
+          Orion, the doll which she holds in her lap and caresses.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter saw it plainly enough and cried: &ldquo;Omicron, Omicron!&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb86" href="#pb86">86</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, prince,&rdquo; said the lady of the court, &ldquo;that
+          will not do. Each must undergo his punishment alone. It&rsquo;s
+          already a great concession that you two are imprisoned in the same
+          universe. Recently, when your little brothers flooded the milky way
+          with sin, they were separated completely.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was sad. How gladly would he have kissed his little sister!&mdash;that
+          group of stars nursing the doll.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, Fancy, let me be with Omicron.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Fancy said neither yes nor no.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She looked as if she were reflecting on the possibility of
+          accomplishing the almost impossible.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter, taking courage from her hesitation, repeated his request.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, let me live with my little sister again, even if I have to
+          eat grass or build continents&mdash;I will eat and build with
+          pleasure, if I may only be with Omicron.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Probably Fancy was afraid to promise something beyond her power; and
+          she was sorry not to be able to give her promise.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will ask,&rdquo; she whispered, &ldquo;and now&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter rubbed his eyes. There was the bridge and the ditch. He heard
+          the ducks cackling from the distance. He saw his mills again. Yes,
+          yes, there they were. But their name was no longer&mdash;what was
+          their name?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mills were called &ldquo;Morning Hour&rdquo; and &ldquo;Eagle,&rdquo;
+          and they called out just like other sawmills: &ldquo;Karre, karre,
+          kra, kra&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thereupon Walter went home. We have already seen what awaited him
+          there. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb87" href="#pb87">87</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch13" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XIII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The preacher had come and gone. Sentence had been passed and the
+          penalty paid. But Walter was depressed and despondent. Leentje did her
+          best to put some animation into him, but in vain. Perhaps it was
+          because she no longer understood her ward.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Those confidential communications of Walter&rsquo;s were beyond her
+          comprehension; and often she looked at him as if she doubted his
+          sanity. From her meagre weekly allowance she saved a few doits,
+          thinking to gladden Walter&rsquo;s heart with some ginger cakes, which
+          he had always enjoyed. It was no use: Walter&rsquo;s soul had outgrown
+          ginger cakes. This discovery caused Leentje bitter pain.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, my dear child, be reasonable, and don&rsquo;t worry over
+          such foolishness. This Fancy, or whatever the creature&rsquo;s name
+          is, has mocked you; or you have dreamed it all.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, no, Leentje. It&rsquo;s all true. I know everything she
+          said, and it&rsquo;s all true.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Walter, that story about your sister&mdash;you would have
+          known that long ago.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I did know it, but I had forgotten it. I knew everything that
+          Fancy told me. It had only slipped out of my mind. When she spoke,
+          then it all came back to me distinctly.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb88" href="#pb88">88</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will go to those mills some day,&rdquo; said Leentje.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And she did it. After Walter&rsquo;s description she was able to find
+          the place where that important meeting had taken place. She saw the
+          timbers, the dirt, the ducks, the meadow&mdash;everything was there,
+          even the ashes,&mdash;everything except Fancy and her stories.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Nor could Walter find Fancy now. In vain did he go out walking with
+          those respectable Halleman boys as often as he was in the way at home.
+          For hours he would stand on the bridge and listen to the rattling of
+          the sawmills; but they told him nothing, and Fancy would not return.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She has too much to do at my mother&rsquo;s court,&rdquo;
+          Walter sighed, and went home sad and disappointed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When he looked out the window and saw the beautiful stars twinkling
+          encouragement to him, he cheered up a little. His sadness was less
+          bitter, but it was still there. Pain passed into home-sickness, a
+          sweet longing for home, and with tears in his eyes, but no longer
+          despairing, he whispered &ldquo;Omicron, Omicron!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Who heard that call, or understood his grief over his exile? Who
+          observed how that sigh for the &ldquo;higher&rdquo; and that fiery
+          desire had passed into a nobler state?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After long deliberations and Walter&rsquo;s express promise to do
+          better, Master Pennewip had at last been prevailed upon to allow our
+          young robber to return to school. He now had the opportunity to
+          perfect himself in verse-writing, penmanship, verbs, &ldquo;Holland
+          Counts&rdquo; and other equally important things.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The teacher said that the boy at Muiderberg had <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb89" href="#pb89">89</a>]</span>been still worse, and he had
+          known what to prescribe. Walter would do all right now, he thought;
+          but Juffrouw Pieterse must get another pastor, for the present one
+          belonged to the class of &ldquo;drinkers.&rdquo; This she did. Walter
+          was to receive religious instruction from a real preacher.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I don&rsquo;t remember the title of the book, but the first lines
+          were:
+        </p>
+        <div class="blockquote">
+          <p>
+            &ldquo;<i>Q.</i> From whom did you and everything in existence have
+            its origin?&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          Walter wanted to say, From my mother; but the book said:
+        </p>
+        <div class="blockquote">
+          <p>
+            &ldquo;<i>Ans.</i> From God, who made everything out of nothing.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            &ldquo;<i>Q.</i> How do you know that?<span class="corr"
+            id="xd0e2265" title="Not in source">&rdquo;</span>
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            &ldquo;<i>Ans.</i> From nature and revelation.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          Walter didn&rsquo;t know what it meant, but like the good-natured,
+          obedient child that he was, he repeated faithfully what he had
+          memorized from the book. It was annoying for him to have his Sundays
+          spoiled by recitations in the Kings of Israel&mdash;days so well
+          suited for rambling. He was jealous of the Jews, who were always led
+          away&mdash;a misfortune that seemed delightful to him. But he worked
+          away patiently, and was not the worst of those apprentices in
+          religion. At the end of the year he received a book containing three
+          hundred and sixty-five scriptural texts, twenty-one prayers, as many
+          graces, the Lord&rsquo;s Prayer, the ten commandments and the articles
+          of faith. It also contained directions for using it&mdash;once a day
+          through the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb90" href="#pb90">90</a>]</span>year,
+          three times a day for a week, etc., etc.; or simply use as needed. On
+          a leaf pasted in the front of the book was written:
+        </p>
+        <div class="blockquote">
+          <p class="aligncenter">
+            <i>To Walter Pieterse</i><br /> as a<br /> <i>Reward</i><br /> for<br />
+            <i>Excellent recitations</i><br /> in the<br /> <i>Noorderkerk</i><br />
+            and as an<br /> <i>Encouragement</i><br /> for him to continue to<br />
+            <i>Honor God</i><br /> in the manner in which he has begun.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          Under this were the names of the preacher and the officers of the
+          church, ornamented with flourishes that would have put Pennewip to
+          shame.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The outward respectability of the Hallemans continued to increase. The
+          parents of these children had hired a garden on the &ldquo;Overtoom.&rdquo;
+          That was so &ldquo;far out,&rdquo; they said; and then they &ldquo;couldn&rsquo;t
+          stay in the city forever.&rdquo; Besides, the expense was &ldquo;not
+          so much&rdquo;; for there was one gardener for everybody; and then,
+          there were plenty of berries growing there, and that was always very
+          nice. There would be grass enough for bleaching the linen&mdash;an
+          important item, for just lately, said the mother of the Hallemans,
+          there had been iron-rust in Betty&rsquo;s dress. For that reason it
+          was the very thing to rent the garden; and if people said anything
+          about it, it would only be because they were jealous. And, too, there
+          was a barrel there for rainwater; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb91"
+          href="#pb91">91</a>]</span>and Mrs. Karels had said it leaked, but it
+          was not true; for everyone must know what he&rsquo;s doing; but when
+          you do anything, everybody is talking about it. If one paid any
+          attention to it, one would never get anything done&mdash;and it would
+          be such a recreation for the children. Juffrouw Karels ought to attend
+          to her own business&mdash;and when Gustave&rsquo;s birthday came, he
+          might invite some &ldquo;young gentlemen.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Gustave&rsquo;s birthday came. &ldquo;Young gentlemen&rdquo; were to
+          be invited, and&mdash;Walter was among that select number.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It would lead me too far from the subject to enter upon an
+          investigation of the motives that prompted Gustave and Franz to invite
+          their former partner in the peppermint business. The list was made out
+          and approved by their mother; and as Juffrouw Pieterse felt flattered,
+          there was no objection from her side. Walter must promise, of course,
+          to behave properly and be &ldquo;respectable,&rdquo; not to soil his
+          clothes, not to wrestle and tear his clothes, and many other things of
+          a similar nature. Juffrouw Pieterse added that it was a great favor on
+          her part to let him go, for such visits made a lot of work for her.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, Walter was to make a visit! Eat, drink and enjoy himself under a
+          strange roof. It was a great event in his life, and already he was
+          becoming less jealous of the Jews, who went away so often, and finally
+          never came back home at all.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was midday now&mdash;that glorious midday. With <span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e2330" title="Source: indiscribable">indescribable</span>
+          dignity, for a boy, Walter stepped through the gate-way. &ldquo;A
+          little to right&mdash;to the left, to the left again, then over a
+          bridge, and then to the right <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb92"
+          href="#pb92">92</a>]</span>straight ahead. You can&rsquo;t miss it,&rdquo;
+          Gustave had said. The name of the garden was &ldquo;City Rest,&rdquo;
+          so all Walter had to do was to &ldquo;ask,&rdquo; and he would &ldquo;find
+          it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And so it was.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Anyone making a call or visit for the first time always arrives too
+          early. So it was with Walter, who reached City Rest before any of the
+          other guests. But the boys received him cordially and presented him to
+          their mother, who said that Walter had a pretty face, if it were only
+          not so pale.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The other playmates came then, and running and throwing began, in the
+          customary boyish style. This was interrupted with waffles and
+          lemonade, which they &ldquo;must drink quite slowly,&rdquo; because
+          they were &ldquo;wet with perspiration.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When the proud mother of the Hallemans was speaking of berries and the
+          grossly slandered rainwater barrel, she might have mentioned the
+          advantages of the leafy bower, where Betty was now sitting with a
+          gentleman.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Who is that?&rdquo; asked Walter of little Emma, who was
+          playing with the boys.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That? That&rsquo;s Betty&rsquo;s sweetheart.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          From that touching story of slender Cecilia we know that Walter
+          already had his first love affair behind him; but still Emma&rsquo;s
+          statement was to him something new. Up to that time he had thought
+          that a sweetheart was a girl to whom one gives slatepencils and
+          bonbons. But she seemed to be above such things. Walter saw
+          immediately that he had not taken the right course with Cecilia; and
+          all at once a desire <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb93" href="#pb93">93</a>]</span>came
+          over him to know how a grown man treats a girl who is through school.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Her sweetheart?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh yes&mdash;engag&eacute;!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That word was too modern for Walter. If the reader is sharp he can
+          calculate in what year that girl married the barber&rsquo;s
+          apprentice. All that is necessary is to determine when that stupid
+          engag&eacute; came into use in this sense in &ldquo;III. 7, a.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What did you say?&rdquo; asked Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Engag&eacute;&mdash;they go together.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What is that?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, they&rsquo;re going to get married. Don&rsquo;t you know?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was ashamed not to know such a simple thing; and, as is often
+          the case, he was ashamed of being ashamed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, of course I know. I hadn&rsquo;t understood right
+          well. Emma&mdash;will you marry me?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For the moment Emma was unable to accommodate him, as she was engag&eacute;
+          with her mother; but as soon as she was free she would consider the
+          matter, and Walter would probably be favored. She looked at him
+          sweetly&mdash;and then the game called her to another part of the
+          yard.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Love is the instinct for unity&mdash;and the instinct for
+          multiplicity. As everywhere, nature is simple here in principle, but
+          manifold in application. The love of a thief means: Come, we will go
+          steal together. The servant of the Word unites with his loved one in
+          prayer and psalm, etc., every animal after his kind. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb94" href="#pb94">94</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Or is this instinct to share, to be together, to be united at the same
+          the instinct for the good?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In Walter&rsquo;s case it was, even though he himself did not know it.
+          Had he not, in the name of Cecilia, liberated a bird that fluttered
+          about its narrow cage in distress? Of course Cecilia had laughed and
+          asked Walter if he was crazy. She did not know that there was any
+          connection between his sympathy for the poor little bird and the
+          beating of his heart when he scratched her name on the frozen
+          window-pane in the back room. Perhaps she would have understood if she
+          had loved Walter; but that was impossible, because he still wore his
+          jacket stuffed in his trousers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At all events, it was not possible for him to think of anything bad
+          when he called &ldquo;Omicron.&rdquo; He had now forgotten Cecilia,
+          and would have been greatly surprised if she had appeared in answer to
+          his call. Little Emma would have come nearer meeting his requirements.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter felt that he must know just how the young man was proceeding
+          with Betty in the bower. He soon found an excuse to separate himself
+          from his companions; and then he heard all sorts of things that did
+          not make him much wiser.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, I said so too. In May&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, on account of the top story&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s annoying! And what does your mother say?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Hm&mdash;she says we must wait another year, that it isn&rsquo;t
+          respectable to get married in such a hurry&mdash;it&rsquo;s just as if&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Four years&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb95" href="#pb95">95</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, four years. Louw and Anna have been engaged for seven.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was proud that he knew exactly what it all meant. To rent an
+          upper story together, preferably in May!&mdash;that was the way he
+          understood it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And do you get that press for the linen?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother wants to keep it. But if we will only wait a year
+          she will give us another one&mdash;a small one.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The big one would have been nicer.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I think so too, but she says young people don&rsquo;t need a
+          big press. But when my sister was married she got a big one.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Tell them you want a big one too.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s no use.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Try it. I won&rsquo;t marry without that big one.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will make them&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This is a fair sample of what Walter overheard. He was dissatisfied
+          and slipped away and hid himself, lost in thought. He didn&rsquo;t
+          even know himself what was the matter with him; but when Emma came and
+          called him he looked as if he had been thinking of anything else but
+          presses and vacant flats, for in a tone at once joyous and fearful he
+          cried:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Could it be she&mdash;my little sister?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was evening now, and the children were to continue their games
+          indoors. As the little party was tired, one of the grown-ups was going
+          to tell a story.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Just what &ldquo;grown-up&rdquo; had been requisitioned to narrate the
+          story of Paradise and Peri, I don&rsquo;t know. Anyway the story
+          hardly harmonized with Betty&rsquo;s <i>engagement</i> and that
+          love-obstructing clothes-press. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb96"
+          href="#pb96">96</a>]</span>But just as Fortune is said to smile on
+          everyone once in a lifetime, so, in the midst of the flatness and
+          insipidity of everyday life, it seems that something always happens
+          which gives that one who lays hold of it opportunity to lift himself
+          above the ordinary and commonplace. To the drowning man a voice calls:
+          &ldquo;Stretch out thy arms, thou canst swim.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;After Peri had begged long, but in vain, at the gates of
+          paradise to be admitted to the land of the blessed, she brought at
+          last, as the most beautiful thing in the world, the sigh of a
+          repentant sinner; and she found favor with the keeper of the gate on
+          account of the sacredness of the gift she had brought&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Let&rsquo;s play forfeits now!&rdquo; cried Gustave.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Forfeits! Forfeits!&rdquo; everybody called out after him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And they played forfeits. Pawns were redeemed; and of course there was
+          some kissing done. Riddles were given that nobody could guess; and who
+          ever knew must not tell&mdash;a usual condition in this game.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Heavy, heavy hangs over your head; what shall the owner do to
+          possess it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Stand on one leg for five minutes.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Let him jump over a straw&mdash;or recite a poem!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, a fable&mdash;la cigale, or something like that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was Walter&rsquo;s pawn.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know any fable,&rdquo; he said, embarrassed;
+          &ldquo;and I don&rsquo;t know French either.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will help you,&rdquo; cried Emma. &ldquo;Le pere, du pere&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb97" href="#pb97">97</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s no fable! Go ahead, Walter!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For some of the party it was a joy that Walter knew no Fable and no
+          French. If it were only known how often one can do a kindness by being
+          stupid, perhaps many, out of love for humanity, would affect
+          stupidity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Walter did not think of the pleasure of the others&mdash;which he
+          could not have understood. He wept, and was angry at Master Pennewip,
+          who had taught him no French and no fable.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Forward, Walter, forward!&rdquo; insisted the holder of the
+          pawn.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It needn&rsquo;t be French. Just tell a fable.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But I don&rsquo;t know what a fable is.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s a story with animals.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, or with trees! <span lang="fr">Le ch&ecirc;ne un jour dit
+          au roseau</span>&mdash;don&rsquo;t you see, you can have one without
+          animals.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes, a fable is just a story&mdash;nothing else. You can
+          have in it anything you want to.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But it must rhyme!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was thinking about reciting his robber song, but fortunately he
+          reconsidered the matter. That would have been scandalous in the home
+          of the Hallemans, who were so particularly respectable.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No,&rdquo; cried another, who was again wiser than all the
+          rest, &ldquo;it needn&rsquo;t rhyme. The cow gives milk&mdash;Jack saw
+          the plums hanging&mdash;Prince William the First was a great thinker.
+          Don&rsquo;t you see, Walter, it&rsquo;s as easy as rolling off of a
+          log. Go ahead and tell something, or else you won&rsquo;t get your
+          pawn.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb98" href="#pb98">98</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter began.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A little boy died once who was not allowed to go to heaven&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oho! That&rsquo;s the story of Peri. Tell something else.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I was going to change it,&rdquo; said Walter, embarrassed.
+          &ldquo;And so the little boy couldn&rsquo;t enter the heavenly gates,
+          because he didn&rsquo;t know French, and because he had sometimes been
+          bad, and because he hadn&rsquo;t learned his lessons, and also because
+          he&mdash;because he&rdquo;&mdash;&mdash;I believe Walter had something
+          on the end of his tongue about his mother&rsquo;s box of savings, but
+          he swallowed it, that he might not offend the Hallemans by any
+          allusion to the peppermint business&mdash;&ldquo;because he once
+          laughed during prayers. For it is certain, boys, that if you laugh
+          during prayers you&rsquo;ll never get to heaven.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So&mdash;o-oo?&rdquo; asked several, conscious of their guilt.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, they can&rsquo;t go to heaven. Now the boy had had a
+          sister, who died one year before him. He had loved her a lot, and when
+          he died he began to hunt for his sister right away. &lsquo;Who is your
+          sister?&rsquo; he was asked.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Who asked him that?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Be still! Don&rsquo;t interrupt him. Let Walter tell his story!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know who asked that. The boy said that his little
+          sister had on a blue dress and had dimples in her cheeks, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just like Emma!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, exactly like Emma. They told him that there was a little
+          girl in heaven that looked just like that. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb99" href="#pb99">99</a>]</span>She had come the year before, and
+          had asked them to let her brother in, who would certainly inquire
+          after her. But the boy could not go in. I have already said why.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Had the little girl always learned her lessons?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course! Don&rsquo;t you see she had? Let Walter go on with
+          his story!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It was sad that he could not get to see his sister any more. He
+          felt that it hadn&rsquo;t really been worth the trouble to die.
+          &lsquo;Oh, just let me in!&rsquo; he begged the gentleman at the door&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;At the gate!&rdquo; corrected several simultaneously, who,
+          though untouched by the sublimity of Walter&rsquo;s conception of
+          death, were offended by the commonplaceness of the word door. But such
+          things happen frequently.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All right!&rdquo; said Walter. He was ashamed that he had
+          offended against propriety. &ldquo;The gentleman at the gate said,
+          &lsquo;No!&rsquo; and then the poor boy returned to the earth.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That won&rsquo;t do,&rdquo; cried the philosophical
+          contingency, &ldquo;whoever is dead remains dead.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t interrupt him. Of course it&rsquo;s only a story!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter continued: &ldquo;He returned to the earth and learned French.
+          Then he appeared at the gate again and said, &lsquo;Oui, Monsieur!&rsquo;
+          but it did no good; he was not admitted.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I should think not; he ought to have said: &lsquo;j&rsquo;aime,
+          tu aimes.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know anything about that,&rdquo; Walter replied.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then he went to the earth again and learned his lessons till he
+          could say them backwards. He did <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb100"
+          href="#pb100">100</a>]</span>this for the keeper of the gate; but all
+          this did no good; he was not allowed to go in.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course not,&rdquo; cried one of the wise ones, &ldquo;to get
+          to heaven you must be confirmed. Had he been confirmed?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No. That&rsquo;s the reason it was so difficult. Then he tried
+          something else. He said that he was engaged to his sister.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just like Betty,&rdquo; cried Emma.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, like Betty&mdash;and that he loved her and wanted to marry
+          her. But it was all of no use; they wouldn&rsquo;t let him into
+          heaven.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Finally he didn&rsquo;t dare go to the gate any more, for fear
+          the keeper would get angry at him.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And then? What happened?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; Walter stuttered. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+          know what he ought to do to get to heaven.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter knew the rest of the story very well, but he couldn&rsquo;t put
+          it into words. This was shown in a peculiar manner an hour later.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On the way home the party was almost run over by a wagon just as they
+          were crossing a bridge. In the commotion Emma slipped under the
+          railing and fell into the stream. Somebody screamed, and Walter sprang
+          after her.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If he had died at that moment the keeper of the gate would hardly have
+          turned him away because he didn&rsquo;t know French and had not been
+          confirmed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When he was brought home, wet and dirty, Juffrouw Pieterse said that
+          one ought not to tempt the Master, and that&rsquo;s what one did when
+          one jumped into the water without being able to swim. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb101" href="#pb101">101</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But I find that the man who can&rsquo;t swim is the very one to expect
+          something of the Master; for the man who can swim has some prospect of
+          helping himself.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And Juffrouw Pieterse complained that there was &ldquo;always
+          something the matter with that boy.&rdquo; There was something the
+          matter with him. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb102" href="#pb102">102</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch14" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XIV
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse must have inherited something, for all at once the
+          Pieterses moved to a more respectable neighborhood, and the daughters
+          no longer knew any of the girls that they used to sew with. Such
+          things do happen in cases of inheritance, when one moves to a more
+          select quarter. Besides, there were other signs. They exerted
+          themselves in trying to get Leentje to speak &ldquo;better Dutch.&rdquo;
+          Stoffel was zealous in teaching her, but Juffrouw Pieterse spoiled
+          everything by her bad example.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was now wearing a new jacket, with a small collar, such as
+          cabmen wore later. For him a jacket to stuff in the trousers was a
+          thing of the past. It &ldquo;looked so babyish,&rdquo; the young
+          ladies said, and was &ldquo;out of the question now when the boy can
+          write poetry.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That Walter could write poetry was boasted of to everybody that would
+          listen. Under the circumstances they really had no right to reap any
+          fame from Walter&rsquo;s robber song; but this only showed what an
+          important r&ocirc;le vanity plays in the world. Of course he himself
+          never heard anything of this; it was mentioned only when he was not
+          present.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The image of Cecilia had disappeared from Walter&rsquo;s <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb103" href="#pb103">103</a>]</span>heart; and
+          little Emma was forgotten. Omicron must show her face in the stars
+          from time to time to remind the child of his love. And even when he
+          looked at the evening sky and his soul was stirred by an inexpressible
+          longing after the good, it was not so much that he was thinking of
+          Omicron as that he was moved by vague sweet memories. In the twelve
+          years of his life there was a mythical prehistoric period which was
+          difficult to separate from the historical period.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He didn&rsquo;t know that he could write verses. He accepted it as a
+          matter of course that his robber song was very poor, and looked upon
+          Klaasje van der Gracht with awe. It was from Juffrouw Laps he learned
+          that he could write poetry; and it was an illumination for him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps had an uncle whose birthday was coming the next week.
+          She had paid the Pieterses a swell visit to ask if Walter wouldn&rsquo;t
+          write her a poem for the occasion. She would see that he got some
+          bonbons.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But Juffrouw Pieterse, you must tell him that it must be
+          religious and that my uncle is a widower. He must bring that in. I
+          should like for it to be in the melody of the 103d psalm, for my uncle
+          has that psalm in his lyre.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reader will note that she did not mean the lyre of Apollo. What
+          she spoke of was a thing that turned, and made a screechy noise.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse was going to speak with Walter about it when he came
+          from school, but first she had to consider the matter with Stoffel, to
+          decide whether it should be a request or a command, so that Walter
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb104" href="#pb104">104</a>]</span>would
+          have no reason to be &ldquo;stuck-up.&rdquo; For that she could not
+          endure in a child.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Walter, did you know your lesson?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother; I had to learn thirteen mountains in Asia, and I
+          knew only nine.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Now, look here, that won&rsquo;t do. I&rsquo;m paying tuition
+          for nothing. Do you think money grows on my back? I don&rsquo;t know
+          what&rsquo;s to become of you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know, either.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After all, though, Walter was flattered by the commission to write a
+          poem. Stoffel&rsquo;s and Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s efforts to conceal
+          their real opinion of his poetical talents had been useless. It was a
+          pleasant surprise for the boy to learn that he was looked up to. He
+          had always heard that he was worse than worthless, and that he would
+          never amount to anything. It interested him now to hear the assurance
+          of his mother and Stoffel that the commission was only a punishment
+          for not knowing the mountains in Asia. In a great rush Stoffel taught
+          him the difference between &ldquo;masculine&rdquo; and &ldquo;feminine&rdquo;
+          verses, explaining that these must alternate, that all must be of the
+          same length, and that if at any time the boy was in doubt he would
+          clear the matter up, etc., etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was delighted. He went to the back room, got a slate pencil and
+          began to write. It could hardly be called a success. &ldquo;A widower
+          of God&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;O God, a widower!&rdquo; That was as far as
+          he got.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He gnawed on the pencil till he had pulverized it and worn out his
+          teeth, but it wouldn&rsquo;t go. He was continually being interrupted
+          by Stoffel&rsquo;s masculine and feminine verses. He had been too
+          proud, and <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb105" href="#pb105">105</a>]</span>now
+          he was receiving his punishment. He began to believe that his mother
+          was right when she said nothing would ever come of him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Nor could Leentje help him. So he determined to make another attempt
+          to-morrow. Perhaps he could do better then. Leentje agreed with him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Juffrouw Pieterse. &ldquo;But don&rsquo;t
+          disgrace us all. Remember, I told Juffrouw Laps you could do it; and
+          the man&rsquo;s birthday comes Thursday week. So you haven&rsquo;t any
+          too much time.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter went to Ash Gate, found his bridge and began to weep bitterly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;See what&rsquo;s the matter with that boy,&rdquo; he heard a
+          woman saying to a girl fourteen or fifteen years old. &ldquo;Perhaps
+          he has lost something.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Have you lost anything?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter looked up, and was surprised; for he seemed to have seen that
+          face before. It reminded him of Fancy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Now, everything will be all right There you are; and I have
+          been hunting for you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;For me?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes, but I just didn&rsquo;t know it. But I know it now.
+          Tell me right quick how to write the poem!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl, who was helping her mother place the linen on the grass for
+          bleaching, looked at Walter in astonishment. She hurried back to her
+          mother to say that she didn&rsquo;t know what was the matter with the
+          boy, but that there was certainly something wrong. &ldquo;He looks as
+          if he were scared half to death,&rdquo; she decided.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then she ran and fetched water from the house near <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb106" href="#pb106">106</a>]</span>by and
+          made Walter drink. He saw that he had made a mistake; but there was
+          something in the manner of the girl that drew him to her irresistibly,
+          even though her name was only Femke. So the mother addressed her. And
+          this name reminded him of Fancy, which was something.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke pointed to an inverted basket and told him to tell the cause of
+          his trouble; and Walter did it as well as he could, while the mother
+          was busy with the linen.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Maybe I can help you,&rdquo; the mother said. &ldquo;I have a
+          nephew who is a widower.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Juffrouw&mdash;but the poem? And there must be something
+          about God in it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly. It&rsquo;s a long story. His wife was a niece of my
+          husband&rsquo;s&mdash;you see we are Catholics, and she acted
+          according to her religion&mdash;put a stone on those cloths, Femke, or
+          they&rsquo;ll blow away&mdash;yes, bleaching is a job. You have no
+          idea what a bother it is&mdash;yes, she acted according to her
+          religion; and that was right. People that don&rsquo;t do that are not
+          much. But he&mdash;draw that shirt back a little, Femke. The sleeve is
+          hanging in the ditch&mdash;but he didn&rsquo;t believe in it, and said
+          it was all nonsense. But when she died, and he saw all that was done
+          for her&mdash;it was Father Jansen who was there. Of course you know
+          him&mdash;he always walks with a black cane, but he never lets it
+          touch the ground&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The women looked at Walter questioningly. The poor boy sat on the
+          basket, his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands. He had
+          listened with open mouth, wondering how he was going to apply it all
+          to his poem. Of Father Jansen and that cane which <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb107" href="#pb107">107</a>]</span>despised the ground he had
+          never heard. This he had to confess.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, it was Father Jansen who was there, and when my husband&rsquo;s
+          nephew saw all that&mdash;don&rsquo;t spill any, Femke, or the mud
+          will splatter so bad&mdash;yes, when he saw that a human being doesn&rsquo;t
+          die like an animal, then he was more respectful, and after that he
+          observed Easter like other people. And last year when he broke his leg&mdash;he&rsquo;s
+          a dyer, you know&mdash;he drew thirteen stivers for nine weeks. And so
+          I wanted to tell you that there&rsquo;s a widower in our family. And
+          now you must get up, for I need the basket.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter arose quickly, as if he feared he might seem to be trespassing;
+          and the woman went away, after having warned Femke to watch the linen
+          and call her if any bad boys should come along.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you better now?&rdquo; Femke asked kindly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh yes; but I don&rsquo;t see how I&rsquo;m to use all that in
+          my poem. You must remember that it has to rhyme, and the verses must
+          be of the same length, and that they must be masculine and feminine;
+          for my brother said so, and he&rsquo;s a school-teacher.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke reflected, then all at once she cried, &ldquo;Do you know Latin?&rdquo;
+          As if Latin would help Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No,&rdquo; disconsolately.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, it really makes no difference. It&rsquo;s in Dutch, too.
+          Just watch the linen a minute.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter promised, and Femke ran to the house.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then some boys came along throwing rocks. Walter, conscious of his
+          responsibility, called to them to desist&mdash;or words to that
+          effect. This only made them worse. They came closer, and, to worry
+          Walter, began <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb108" href="#pb108">108</a>]</span>to
+          walk over the linen. For him it was as if they were mistreating Femke,
+          and he charged on the miscreants. But it was two against one, and a
+          weaker one at that; so he would have soon been defeated if his lady
+          had not returned quickly. She rescued him and drove off his
+          assailants; and when she saw that his lip was bleeding she gave him a
+          kiss. The boy&rsquo;s heart trembled; all at once his soul was lifted
+          to an unfamiliar level; and for the first time in weeks he felt again
+          that princely nature that had given Leentje such a fright. His eyes
+          shone, and the boy, who but a moment ago did not know how he was to
+          write some rhymes, was filled with the feelings and emotions that make
+          poets of men.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;O Fancy, Fancy, to die for thee&mdash;to die with such a kiss
+          on the lips!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It hurt him to think that the boys were gone. If there had been ten of
+          them he would have had courage for the unequal fight.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And Femke, who had never heard of poetical overflows, understood him
+          immediately, for she was a pure, innocent girl. She felt Walter&rsquo;s
+          chivalry, and knew that she was the lady to reward it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You are a dear sweet boy,&rdquo; she said, taking his head
+          between her hands and kissing him again, and again&mdash;as if she had
+          done something of this kind before. But such was not the case.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And now you must read the verses in the little book. Maybe it
+          will help you to write for your aunt&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She isn&rsquo;t my aunt,&rdquo; Walter said, &ldquo;but of
+          course I will look through the book.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb109" href="#pb109">109</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He laid it on the railing of the bridge and began to read. Femke, who
+          was taller than he, had put one arm around his neck, while with the
+          other hand she was pointing out what he should read.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see?&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;the lines are the
+          same length.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, but they don&rsquo;t rhyme.&rdquo; And Walter read:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            Mother most pure,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Mother undefiled,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Virgin most powerful,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Virgin most merciful,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Virgin most faithful,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Spiritual vessel,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Vessel of honor,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Vessel of singular devotion,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Mystical rose,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Tower of David,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Tower of Ivory,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Gate of Heaven&mdash;&mdash;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Femke, how am I to use that for my poem? I don&rsquo;t
+          understand any of it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke didn&rsquo;t understand much of it either. She had been reading
+          the book every day for the past four or five years, and she had always
+          been satisfied with her comprehension of it. But now she saw that she
+          was as ignorant about it as Walter. She was ashamed and closed the
+          book.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But don&rsquo;t you know what Faith is?&rdquo; she asked, as if
+          this defect might account for the general ignorance of both.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Not that way,&rdquo; Walter replied. &ldquo;I learned it
+          another way.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb110" href="#pb110">110</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But you believe in Jesus, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, yes. That&rsquo;s God&rsquo;s son. But I didn&rsquo;t learn
+          anything about vessels and towers. Do they belong to faith?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, certainly! But you know the holy virgin, Maria!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So? Maria? No, I don&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And Purgatory?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know anything about it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And confession?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What do you do then?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How do you mean, Femke?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I mean to be saved.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; Walter replied. &ldquo;You mean, to
+          get to heaven?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, certainly. That&rsquo;s the point. And you can&rsquo;t do
+          that without the holy virgin and such a book. Shall I teach you the
+          creed, Walter? Then we&rsquo;ll be together in heaven.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That pleased Walter, and Femke and Walter began:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;God created the world&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What did he do before that, Femke?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. But the people were made wicked by a snake;
+          then the Pope pronounced a curse upon the snake, for the Pope lives in
+          Rome, you know. And then Jesus was crucified to make the people good
+          again. That was a long time ago.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, I know,&rdquo; Walter said, &ldquo;Jesus changed the
+          number of the year. At his birth he began at nought.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke didn&rsquo;t know again. In this way each supplemented the
+          knowledge of the other; and Walter was <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb111" href="#pb111">111</a>]</span>proud that he knew something
+          about the creed, even if Femke did think it the wrong creed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And so Jesus made the people good again, and if you will pray
+          out of such a book you will be saved. Do you understand, Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Not quite. What is an ivory tower?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, that&rsquo;s only a name for the virgin. It&rsquo;s as if
+          you were to call the pastor father. Now you understand.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke hunted for another illustration.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You have a mother; what do you call her?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, I call her mother.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Correct. What do the other people call her?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;They call her Juffrouw Pieterse.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just so. When we call the holy virgin &lsquo;ivory tower&rsquo;
+          it&rsquo;s just like calling your mother Juffrouw Pieterse. Ivory gate
+          means that to get to heaven we must go through the holy virgin. That&rsquo;s
+          the main thing.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Femke, what is a virgin?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke blushed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That is anybody that has never had a child.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Me?&rdquo; asked Walter in astonishment.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, child, it must be a girl!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you a virgin?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke spoke the unvarnished truth.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course&mdash;because I&rsquo;m not married.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But Maria was married&mdash;and Jesus was her child.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, that&rsquo;s where the holiness comes in,&rdquo; replied
+          Femke. &ldquo;And for that reason she is called the ivory gate. Do you
+          understand now, Walter?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb112"
+          href="#pb112">112</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter did not understand; but he asked permission to take the book
+          home with him, that he might study it. That, however, was not
+          possible, as Femke needed the book every day. Walter consoled himself
+          easily, for not for anything in the world would he have endangered
+          Femke&rsquo;s salvation. Femke asked him to come again. She would be
+          glad to tell him all she knew about the matter; and, if both should
+          get tangled up, she would ask Father Jansen about it. And then Walter
+          would soon be as wise as she was.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter withdrew; <i>i. e.</i>, after he had kissed Femke heartily.
+          This meeting with her, the mysterious book, salvation, the fight with
+          the boys&mdash;all these things would run through his mind whenever he
+          tried to think of the poem. It seemed to him that there was some
+          connection between them.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When he got home he turned through Stoffel&rsquo;s books, hoping to
+          find something about holy vessels, ivory towers, and immaculate
+          virgins. But they were all school books, and gave information about
+          everything else but salvation. Walter was crushed, but he was still
+          searching.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Master Pennewip had a father and mother; and certainly old
+          Pennewip, too, who slaughtered hogs; and the one before him, too&mdash;but
+          who was the first Pennewip? And who slaughtered the hogs before old
+          Pennewip? And before there were any hogs, what did butchers do? And&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I will know all of that some day, Walter thought. If he could have
+          only quieted himself so well about his poem! If that were only
+          written, he thought, then he would clear up the lost causes of
+          everything. In the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb113" href="#pb113">113</a>]</span>meanwhile
+          he dreamed of Femke, of her blue eyes, her friendliness, her soft lips&mdash;and
+          of her voice, when she said, &ldquo;You are a dear, sweet boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Could it be that she is Omicron? he thought.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And thus the child dreamed, dreamed; and, just as in the development
+          of humanity, in his life was working a three-fold impulse, towards
+          love, knowledge, and conflict.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But Walter, don&rsquo;t you read any books at home about the
+          creed?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus Femke questioned her little friend the next day, as he sat on her
+          basket again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, but they&rsquo;re not pretty.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you know anything by heart?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter repeated a stanza of a reformed church hymn. This found no
+          favor with Femke; though she liked his reciting.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you read anything else?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter reflected: he flew through Stoffel&rsquo;s library&mdash;works
+          of the Poetical Society, Geology by Ippel, On Orthography, Regulations
+          for the Fire-Watch, Story of Joseph by <span class="corr" id="xd0e2819"
+          title="Source: H&uuml;lshoff"> Hulshoff</span>, Brave Henry, Jacob
+          Among His Children, Sermons by <span class="corr" id="xd0e2822"
+          title="Source: Hellendoorm"> Hellendoorn</span>, A Catechism by the
+          same, Hoorn&rsquo;s Song-book.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He felt that all of this would not prove very imposing for Femke.
+          Finally:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I do know something, but it isn&rsquo;t about faith and the
+          creed. It&rsquo;s about Glorioso.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke promised to listen, and he began to relate the story. At first
+          he spoke mechanically, using all the &ldquo;and then&rsquo;s&rdquo;:
+          but soon he put himself into the soul of the hero and told the story
+          better than he had read it in <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb114"
+          href="#pb114">114</a>]</span>the greasy book. At every deed of
+          Glorioso he would spring from the basket and act the part of that hero
+          in a way that made Femke&rsquo;s blood run cold. Still, how
+          magnificent she found it! And when at last he was through, a spark
+          from his peculiar but sincere enthusiasm had fallen into her heart,
+          which like his beat with delight over the beauty of what she had
+          heard. Her cheeks glowed&mdash;really, if a Treckschent had started to
+          Italy at that moment I believe she would have gone along, in order to
+          take part in so much danger and adventure&mdash;and <i>love</i>. The
+          nicest thing about the story was that it showed how firm such a robber
+          is in the faith.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you know another story?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Walter. &ldquo;One more. It&rsquo;s in a
+          little book&mdash;a calendar, I believe.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And he related the story of Telasco and Kusco and the beautiful
+          Aztalpa.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Telasco and Kusco, sons of the King of the Sun-worshipers, were twins;
+          and so both were equally near the throne. They loved each other
+          devotedly; so which would give way for the other? Which of the two was
+          to become Inca? Funeral pyres were built, one for each, and prayers
+          were offered to the sun that one of the piles might be ignited. But
+          the sun did not light either. He ordered that Aztalpa, the sister,
+          should choose one. That one to whom she offered her hand should
+          inherit the throne and the empire. But the princess could not decide,
+          for she loved them both dearly and both equally. It was then decided
+          that both should go out hunting on a certain morning, and that the one
+          who killed the first doe should become king. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb115" href="#pb115">115</a>]</span>Telasco had red arrows, Kusco
+          blue. The morning came. The brothers were lying in a thicket as the
+          deer approached. Both fired, and both missed. Then they swore mutually
+          not to miss intentionally the next time. They kept the oath, and two
+          deer fell; but Telasco had shot one of Kusco&rsquo;s arrows, and Kusco
+          one of Telasco&rsquo;s. Telasco then proposed that Aztalpa should be
+          killed, to avoid any discord in the empire; and in the other world
+          both would enjoy the same place in her affections. All agreed to this;
+          but when the fatal day came, Aztalpa fell on her knees before Telasco
+          and begged that she might receive her death at the hand of Kusco.
+          Telasco cried: &ldquo;Aztalpa, you have chosen!&rdquo; All bowed down
+          before Kusco; and when they looked for Telasco he had disappeared. He
+          was never seen again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Often Femke interrupted with questions, for there was much that was
+          strange and wonderful to her; but she was charmed with the story and
+          shared all of Walter&rsquo;s enthusiasm.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I tell you, though, Walter, if that girl had known what Telasco
+          was up to she wouldn&rsquo;t have done it. But the story is beautiful.
+          I wonder if such things really happen.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That was far from here, Femke, and a long time ago. That&rsquo;s
+          just the way it was in the book. But now I must go home, for I haven&rsquo;t
+          a stiver to pay the gate-keeper if I come in after eight. Oh, Femke&mdash;if
+          I were only through with that poetry business.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It will turn out all right<span class="corr" id="xd0e2854"
+          title="Source: ,">.</span> Just think of Telasco. He had a difficult
+          task, too.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb116" href="#pb116">116</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No! I will think of the girl. Good-evening, Femke&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter received the hearty kiss that his story had earned him, and
+          dreaming of Aztalpa, who was guarding the linen, he passed through the
+          Ash Gate and turned towards home. The moon shone so brightly that he
+          was annoyed not to have been able to remain with Femke. How much
+          better, he thought, could he have told his story by moonlight! But he
+          didn&rsquo;t have the price&mdash;a stiver. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb117" href="#pb117">117</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch15" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XV
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The moon paused on the sky, as if she were weary of her lonely lot.
+          Was she grieved because ungrateful humanity had fallen asleep and was
+          ignoring her?&mdash;or because of the light borrowed from her for
+          thousands of years, and none returned? She poured forth her sorrow in
+          heart-breaking noiseless elegies till the night-wind was moved to
+          pity. Whish! he went through the trees; and the leaves danced. Crash!
+          he went over the roof; and the tiles flew away, and chimneys bowed
+          meekly; and over the walls and ditches the sawmills danced with the
+          logs they were to saw. There a girl sat sleeping. Could it be Femke?
+          The linen danced about her to the music of the wind, the shirts making
+          graceful bows and extending their sleeves. Nightcaps, dickeys and
+          drawers danced the minuet; stockings, skirts, collars, handkerchiefs
+          waltzed thicker and thicker around the sleeping girl. Her curls began
+          to flutter&mdash;a smile, a sigh, and she sprang to her feet. A
+          whirlwind caught her up and&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;O, heavens, Femke, Femke!&rdquo; and Walter grasped at the
+          apparition that was being borne away towards the moon in a cloud of
+          stockings, socks, drawers, shirts and collars.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mother! Walter&rsquo;s pinching me,&rdquo; cried Laurens, <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb118" href="#pb118">118</a>]</span>the
+          printer&rsquo;s apprentice; and Juffrouw Pieterse groaned, that those
+          boys couldn&rsquo;t even keep quiet at night.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The &ldquo;House of Pieterse&rdquo; gathered at Walter&rsquo;s bed.
+          There was the noble mother of the family enveloped in a venerable
+          jacket that fell in broad folds over a black woolen skirt. There was
+          Trudie, with her stupid blue eyes; and Myntje and Pietje&mdash;but
+          what am I talking about? In the new home Trudie had become Gertrude,
+          like a morganatic princess in Hessia; and Myntje was now Mina, but
+          preferred to be called Mine, as that sounded more Frenchy. But her
+          stupid face remained unchanged. Pietje was now Pietro. Stoffel had
+          said that was a very swell name.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel, too, had now appeared on the scene, to the great astonishment
+          of his mother, who expected so much of him. This fine sense of
+          propriety had been developed in the new home.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter with you, boy?&rdquo; cried everybody
+          at once.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, mother, Femke&mdash;Femke!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The boy is foolish.&rdquo; That was the unanimous verdict of
+          the family.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And they were not altogether wrong. Walter was delirious.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;They are carrying her away&mdash;around and around&mdash;Daughter
+          of the Sun, decide&mdash;here is Telasco&mdash;thou shalt die, Aztalpa&mdash;Femke,
+          stay, stay, I will watch the clothes&mdash;I will shoot the doe&mdash;a
+          widower of God&mdash;together through the ivory gate&mdash;there she
+          is again&mdash;stay, Omicron!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ought we to call in a preacher?&rdquo; asked Juffrouw <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb119" href="#pb119">119</a>]</span>Pieterse
+          hesitatingly. She didn&rsquo;t know whether praying was needed or a
+          whipping&mdash;or both.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And now, perhaps for the first time in his life, Stoffel expressed a
+          sensible thought: &ldquo;Mother, we ought to have a doctor. Walter is
+          sick.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had nervous fever. It was fortunate for him that a doctor was
+          called in, and still more fortunate that it was a man who understood
+          Walter&rsquo;s mental troubles. He exerted a most wholesome influence
+          on the boy; though this came later, as at first he could only treat
+          the disease.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On Juffrouw Pieterse, too, he had a good influence. To her great
+          astonishment, he explained to her that children ought not to be packed
+          together in a bed as if they were superfluous pieces of furniture
+          being thrown aside; that air, light, play, enjoyment, exercise are all
+          necessary for the development of body and soul; that whipping does no
+          good, and that she had better dispense with her &ldquo;divine worship.&rdquo;
+          He told her of other things she had never heard of; and she listened
+          willingly, for the doctor&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, dear Juffrouw Laps, you must manage to be here when he
+          comes. He writes the prescriptions with a gold pen; and his coachman
+          wears a brown bear-skin cape.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That gold pen and the bear-skin cape! Ah, if everyone who preaches
+          truth could only dress up his coachman so swell! But alas, alas&mdash;I
+          know a great many people who love the truth, and they have no coachman
+          at all&mdash;not to mention the bear-skin.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And gold pens often get into the wrong hands.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I just wanted Juffrouw Zipperman to come sometime <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb120" href="#pb120">120</a>]</span>when the
+          doctor&rsquo;s here. Run and tell her, Gertrude, that I said Walter
+          was sick, and say that we have lunch about twelve. He came about that
+          time yesterday. And Leentje, you go to the grocer&rsquo;s&mdash;we
+          need salt&mdash;have something to say about it&mdash;it&rsquo;s not
+          just to be gossiping, you know&mdash;I despise gossip&mdash;but I
+          would like to know if the people have noticed it. And you, Pietro,
+          remember that you are to give me a clean cap when he comes&mdash;for
+          the doctor is such an elegant gentleman, and such a doctor! And all
+          that he said&mdash;I drank it all in. Mina, you mustn&rsquo;t stare at
+          him again like that; it&rsquo;s not proper. But I&rsquo;m curious to
+          know if the people at the grocer&rsquo;s have seen him!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I shouldn&rsquo;t like to be severe on her; but it seems to me that
+          Juffrouw Pieterse was gradually beginning to take pleasure in Walter&rsquo;s
+          illness.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There is something swell in having such a carriage standing before one&rsquo;s
+          door.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps had come: &ldquo;But dear Juffrouw Pieterse, what am I
+          to do about my uncle? You are invited; and I have told him that there
+          will be a poem.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Very bad, Juffrouw Laps. You can see though that that poor worm
+          can&rsquo;t write the poem. What about Stoffel? Why not ask him to
+          write it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all right with me. Just so it&rsquo;s a poem;
+          otherwise I&rsquo;m disgraced.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel was requested to take Walter&rsquo;s place, but he raised
+          objections at once.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know what that would mean, mother. I would lose
+          the respect of the boys. For anyone working with youth, respect is the
+          main thing; and such a poem&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb121" href="#pb121">121</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But the boys at school need not know it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But the man would tell somebody and then&mdash;you don&rsquo;t
+          understand it. At the Diaconate school there was a fellow who wrote
+          verses; and what has become of him? He went to India, mother, and he
+          still owes me for half a bottle of ink. That&rsquo;s the way it goes,
+          mother. For me to write such a poem? No, no, mother&mdash;for a boy
+          like Walter it&rsquo;s all right; but when one is already a teacher!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And Master Pennewip?&rdquo; cried Juffrouw Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The very man!&rdquo; cried Stoffel, as if this supported his
+          former argument. &ldquo;A happy thought! Master Pennewip will do it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve read a poem by him, Stoffel.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes. And you&rsquo;ve read a poem by him. That&rsquo;s
+          because&mdash;but how shall I explain that to you, Juffrouw Laps? You
+          know that in teaching there are all kinds of things. Take Geography,
+          for example. I will just mention one fact: Madrid is on the
+          Manganares. Understand, mother?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes, Stoffel. That&rsquo;s just as if you were to say&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Amsterdam on the Y. Exactly so. And then there are many, many
+          more things, Juffrouw Laps. You have no idea how much there is of it.
+          A grocer mixes sugar with something else. He must calculate exactly
+          what he must get for a pound in order not to lose money. Think of it!
+          And then you have partnership, and breakage, and the verbs&mdash;but I
+          must go before those rascals break everything.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel returned to school earlier than usual, without having
+          diminished Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s difficulties very <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb122" href="#pb122">122</a>]</span>much. That
+          poor woman could not comprehend how geography and Madrid and the
+          grocer and partnerships made it impossible for Stoffel to write
+          verses. Juffrouw Pieterse smoothed the matter over as well as she
+          could and sent Juffrouw Laps to Master Pennewip.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That gentleman was alarmed when he saw the angry &ldquo;sucking
+          animal,&rdquo; but he quieted down as soon as he heard the object of
+          her visit.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;To what class does your uncle belong, Juffrouw?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, to the class&mdash;you mean the mussel-shells and eggs?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, Juffrouw, I mean on which rung of the ladder is he&mdash;how
+          high up. I repeat it, on what rung&mdash;it&rsquo;s a figure, Juffrouw&mdash;on
+          what rung of the social ladder?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;In the grain business? Is that what you mean?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That is not sufficient, Juffrouw Laps. One may be in the grain
+          business as a pastry cook, a baker, a retailer, a wholesaler, or as a
+          broker; and all these vocations have their peculiar sub-divisions.
+          Take Joseph in Egypt, for example. This man of God, whom some place in
+          the class of patriarchs, while others claim&mdash;but let that be as
+          it may. It is certain that Joseph bought corn and was on the topmost
+          rung of the ladder, for we read in Genesis, chapter 41&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, indeed, he rode in Pharaoh&rsquo;s carriage, and he wore a
+          white silk coat. My uncle is an agent, and my father was the same.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So-o-oo? Agent! That&rsquo;s something Moses doesn&rsquo;t
+          mention, and I don&rsquo;t know in what class&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; He
+          spoke slowly, puzzling over his words. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb123" href="#pb123">123</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Besides, my uncle is a widower.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, there we have the difference! We read that Joseph wooed
+          Asnath, the daughter of Potiphar; but nowhere do we read that his
+          spouse was already dead when he went into the corn business.
+          Therefore, Juffrouw Laps, if it is your earnest desire to have a pious
+          poem written on your uncle, I advise you to go to my pupil, Klaasje
+          van der Gracht.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He explained to her where that prodigy might be found.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again I must beg pardon if my criticism of Pennewip is too severe; but
+          he gave me reasons enough to harbor ugly suspicions against him. I am
+          convinced that he would have written that poem for Juffrouw Laps if
+          her uncle had received a white silk coat from the king, or had ever
+          driven through The Hague in a royal carriage. But to sing an agent in
+          verse! He would leave that to the genius of &ldquo;the flying
+          tea-kettle&rdquo; in the Peperstraat. That was not nice of Pennewip.
+          Was that uncle to blame because his brothers never threw him into a
+          well? or sold him into Egypt? Or because he couldn&rsquo;t interpret
+          dreams? Or because cleverness is not rewarded to-day with rings, white
+          coats, carriages and high official position?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps footed it over to the Peperstraat, where she made the
+          acquaintance of the elder van der Gracht. The old gentleman felt
+          flattered.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was most gracious, and assured the Juffrouw that the poem should be
+          written that very evening. Klaasje could bring it over the next
+          morning and repeat it to Juffrouw Laps, and if it were found worthy as
+          an expression of her feelings toward her uncle, then <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb124" href="#pb124">124</a>]</span>Klaasje
+          was to be invited to be present on that evening. The father assured
+          her that Klaasje would wear a white stand-up collar.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just like Joseph,&rdquo; said the Juffrouw. &ldquo;Everything
+          is in the Bible.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When she got home she read the forty-first chapter of Genesis, trying
+          to find the relation of Klaasje&rsquo;s apotheosis to Joseph&rsquo;s
+          exaltation. That night she dreamed she had a mantle in her hand. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb125" href="#pb125">125</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch16" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XVI
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          It was the afternoon of the day on which Juffrouw Laps sought out
+          Klaasje van der Gracht, and Walter was lying in bed, still weak but no
+          longer delirious. The doctor had ordered rest and quiet. The child
+          counted the flowers in the curtain, and, in his imagination tried to
+          arrange them in some other order. He allowed them to jump over one
+          another, or flow into one another. He saw in them faces, forms,
+          armies, clouds&mdash;and all were alive and moving. It was tiresome,
+          but he couldn&rsquo;t do anything else. If he turned his face toward
+          the wall it was still worse. The hieroglyphic scratches on the wall
+          told him all sorts of things that he didn&rsquo;t need to know and
+          overwhelmed him with unnecessary impressions. He closed his eyes; but
+          still he found no rest. It seemed to him as if he were being swept
+          away to take part in that entertainment that the night-wind gave the
+          moon. Everything was turning round and round, taking him along. He
+          seized his head in both hands, as if he would stop his imagination by
+          main strength; but it was useless. The curtains, the cords, the wall,
+          the flowers, the dance, the whirlwind that tore Femke away&mdash;his
+          efforts to hold her&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The boy burst into tears. He knew that it was all imagination; he knew
+          that he was sick; he knew that <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb126"
+          href="#pb126">126</a>]</span>chimneys don&rsquo;t dance, and that
+          girls are not blown to the moon; and yet&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Weeping he called Femke&rsquo;s name softly, not loud enough to be
+          heard by the others, but loud enough to relieve his own depression.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo; he cried suddenly. &ldquo;Does she
+          answer? Is that imagination, too?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Actually, Walter heard his name called, and it was Femke&rsquo;s
+          voice!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I must know whether I&rsquo;m dreaming, or not,&rdquo; he said,
+          and straightened himself up in bed. &ldquo;That is a red flower, that
+          is a black one, I am Walter, Laurens is a printer&rsquo;s apprentice&mdash;everything
+          is all right; and I&rsquo;m not dreaming.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He leaned out of bed and listened again, his mouth and eyes as wide
+          open as he could get them, as if the senses of taste and sight were
+          going to reinforce that of hearing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <span class="corr" id="xd0e2999" title="Not in source"> &ldquo;</span>O,
+          God! Femke&rsquo;s voice! Yes, yes, it is Femke!&rdquo; He jumped out
+          of bed, ran out the door, and half ran, half fell down the steps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To return to Femke for a little while. She had expected Walter at the
+          bridge the next day after the story of the sun-worshipers. At first
+          she thought that Walter was waiting till he could borrow from Stoffel
+          the book with the picture showing Aztalpa embracing the two brothers.
+          She wanted to see Walter with the picture; now she would have been
+          satisfied with him without the picture. It couldn&rsquo;t be the boy&rsquo;s
+          person, she thought&mdash;such a child!&mdash;but he did recite so
+          well. Perhaps in the heart of the girl Walter and his recitals had
+          already coalesced. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb127" href="#pb127">127</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Put the clothes in the sun,&rdquo; cried her mother; and Femke
+          translated that: Sun&mdash;Peru&mdash;Aztalpa&mdash;Kusco&mdash;Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Run those fighters away; they&rsquo;ll throw dirt on the
+          clothes.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke dreamed: Courageously fighting against the enemies of the
+          country&mdash;the noblest tribe of the Incas&mdash;Telasco&mdash;Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Everything seemed to be calling for Walter; but he did not come.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The first day she was sad; the second, impatient; the third, restless.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mother, I&rsquo;m going to see what&rsquo;s become of the
+          little boy who was going to write a poem.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do, my child!&rdquo; said the mother. &ldquo;Do you think you
+          will find him?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke nodded; but her nod was not convincing. She did not know where
+          Walter lived and was afraid to say so. It took courage to start out to
+          trace the child when she didn&rsquo;t know where he lived; and this
+          courage she wished to conceal. And why? Just timidity incident to the
+          tender feelings. Sometimes we conceal the good and boast of the bad.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl dressed herself as prettily as she could and put all her
+          money in her pocket. It was only a few stivers. She hurried through
+          Ash Gate and inquired where the shop was that lent books. Thus she
+          came directly to the Hartenstraat. She simply retraced the steps of
+          our hero, when he made that first sally with Glorioso.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Less timid than Walter&mdash;Femke was older, and had had more
+          experience with men&mdash;she asked the gruff <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb128" href="#pb128">128</a>]</span>fellow in a business-like way
+          for &ldquo;the book about the countess with the long train or her
+          dress.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What? What&rsquo;s the title?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; Femke said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s about
+          a robber&mdash;and the Pope&rsquo;s mentioned in it, too. I am hunting
+          for the boy who read the book. I wanted to ask where he lives&mdash;I
+          will pay you for your trouble.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you think I&rsquo;m a fool? Am I here to hunt for boys?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, M&rsquo;neer, I will pay you,&rdquo; the girl said, and
+          laid the money on the counter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, get on! What do I know about your boy?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke got angry now.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t done anything, and you can&rsquo;t run me off
+          like that. No, you can&rsquo;t. If you don&rsquo;t want to tell me,
+          you needn&rsquo;t to. You are an unaccommodating fellow!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She was going to leave, when it occurred to her to ask, &ldquo;And won&rsquo;t
+          you lend me a book, either?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, you can get a book. What do you want?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That book about the robber and Amalia,&rdquo; said Femke. She
+          felt now that she was a &ldquo;customer,&rdquo; and oh, how proud she
+          had become all at once!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know anything about such a book. Do you mean
+          Rinaldo Rinaldini?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No. Is there more than one robber book? Just call over the
+          names of them for me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This was said with an air of importance that was not without its
+          effect on the shopman. He pulled down the catalogue, and soon he came
+          to &ldquo;Glorioso.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s it, that&rsquo;s it!&rdquo; cried Femke,
+          delighted. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb129" href="#pb129">129</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But you must deposit a forfeit,&rdquo; the man said, as he
+          mounted the ladder to get that precious book.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, I don&rsquo;t want the book at all. I only want to know
+          where the boy lives who read it. I will pay you gladly,&rdquo; and she
+          pointed to her money.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That isn&rsquo;t necessary,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+          mind accommodating you when you ask me politely.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He looked in the register and found the name Femke had mentioned, with
+          the address. He showed it to her, and was even going to explain to her
+          the best way to get there; but Femke was already out the door. The
+          fellow had difficulty in overtaking her to return the money she had
+          forgotten on the counter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When she reached the address given, Femke learned that the Pieterses
+          had moved to a &ldquo;sweller <span class="corr" id="xd0e3066"
+          title="Source: neighbourhood">neighborhood</span>.&rdquo; It was quite
+          a distance away; but Femke was not deterred by that.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Once at the Pieterses&rsquo;, she was received by the young ladies
+          with a rough, &ldquo;What do you want?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, Juffrouw, I wanted to ask about Walter.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am Femke, Juffrouw, and my mother is a wash-woman. I would
+          like to know if Walter is all right.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What have you got to do with Walter?&rdquo; asked Juffrouw
+          Pieterse, who had heard the commotion and <span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e3079" title="Source: come">came</span> down.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, Juffrouw, don&rsquo;t be angry&mdash;I wanted to know; and
+          my mother knows that I&rsquo;ve come to ask. Walter told me about
+          Telasco, and the girl that was to die&mdash;oh, Juffrouw, tell me if
+          he&rsquo;s sick! I cannot sleep till I know.&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb130" href="#pb130">130</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s none of your business. Go, I tell you! I don&rsquo;t
+          want strange people standing around the door.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;For mercy&rsquo;s sake, Juffrouw!&rdquo; cried the girl,
+          wringing her hands.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The girl&rsquo;s crazy. Put her out, Trudie, and slam the door!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Trudie began to execute the order. Myntje and Pietje got ready to help
+          her; but the child clung to the balustrade and held her ground.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Throw her out! The impudent thing!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, Juffrouw, I&rsquo;m not impudent. I will go. Just tell me
+          whether Walter is sick. Tell me, and I will go right now. Just tell me
+          if he&rsquo;s sick&mdash;if, if he&rsquo;s going&mdash;to die.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The poor child began to weep. Anybody else but those Pieterse women
+          would have been touched at the sight. They were too far up the ladder.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Plainer people, or nobler people would have understood Femke. Feeling,
+          sympathy, is like the money in a gambling-place. It doesn&rsquo;t come
+          to everybody. There wenches and countesses sit side by side; merely
+          respectable people, who sell shoes made in Paris, are not there.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t go!&rdquo; cried Femke. &ldquo;Oh, God! I won&rsquo;t
+          go! I will know whether that child is sick!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A door was heard opening above; and Walter came in sight. He tumbled
+          down the steps and fell unconscious at Femke&rsquo;s feet.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That boy!&rdquo; groaned the old lady, while the girls stood as
+          if transfixed. Femke picked Walter up and carried him upstairs. His
+          bed was pointed out to <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb131"
+          href="#pb131">131</a>]</span>her, and she placed him in it. No one had
+          the courage to run her away when she took a chair by the bedside. If
+          at this moment the rights of the Pieterses and Femke had been voted
+          upon, all the votes would have gone to Femke.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She wept, and stammered &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be angry, Juffrouw; but I
+          couldn&rsquo;t sleep for thinking of him.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">
+          [<a id="pb132" href="#pb132">132</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch17" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XVII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The evening of the birthday party came. All of the Pieterses went,
+          leaving Walter to be taken care of by Leentje.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps was doing the honors.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A strange state of affairs,&rdquo; said the birthday uncle.
+          &ldquo;And what did she want?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, goodness, M&rsquo;neer, I don&rsquo;t know myself. I&rsquo;ve
+          told Gertrude a hundred times that it&rsquo;s too much for me. Just
+          imagine to yourself&mdash;such a thing issuing commands in my house! I
+          told Mina to pitch her out. And Pietro said&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You ought to have seen me get hold of her,&rdquo; 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.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just wait till she comes again,&rdquo; cried Gertrude, &ldquo;and
+          I will attend to her!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And what will I do for her?&rdquo; said Mina significantly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          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.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A common girl, M&rsquo;neer!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Worse than common!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How did you get rid of her?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, it wasn&rsquo;t easy. I said&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb133" href="#pb133">133</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother, I said&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, it was I!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But it was I!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Each one of them had said something. Everyone wanted to play the
+          leading r&ocirc;le in the interesting drama.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I would like to know where the young Mr. van der Gracht is,&rdquo;
+          said Juffrouw Laps. &ldquo;Yes, uncle, it&rsquo;s a surprise&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse did not like to be interrupted when she had
+          something to tell.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And so we said&mdash;what did we say, Gertrude?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mother, I said it was a disgrace.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, I said so, too. Then that thing asked for cold water, and
+          when we didn&rsquo;t get it quick enough for her, she ran and fetched
+          it herself&mdash;just as if she were at home! She wet a cloth and put
+          it on Walter&rsquo;s head. I was amazed at her insolence. When the
+          child came to she gave him a kiss! Think of it&mdash;and all of us
+          standing there!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; cried the three daughters, &ldquo;think of it&mdash;and
+          us standing there!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then she sat down in front of the bed again and talked to him.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where can the young Mr. van der Gracht be!&rdquo; sighed
+          Juffrouw Laps. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s only because we have a little
+          surprise, uncle.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And finally she went away like a princess!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Exactly like a princess,&rdquo; testified the girls; and they
+          did not know that they were telling the truth.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And she told Walter she would come again. But I just want to
+          see her do it!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb134"
+          href="#pb134">134</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The door-bell rang. Juffrouw Laps arose; and the catechist van der
+          Gracht with his son walked into the room. Juffrouw Pieterse didn&rsquo;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!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mynheer and Juffrouwen, may God bless you all this evening!
+          This is my son Klaas, of whom you have heard, I suppose. He&rsquo;s
+          too close kin to me for me to praise him; but you understand&mdash;when
+          it&rsquo;s the father&mdash;well, all blessings come from above.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, uncle, it will be a surprise.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;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&mdash;and I thank God&mdash;for Mynheer,
+          everything comes from above, you know.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Take a seat. I thank you,&rdquo; said the host, who understood
+          that he had been congratulated. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s cold out, isn&rsquo;t
+          it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, a little cool; hardly cold. It&rsquo;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.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          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?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And now, uncle, what do you say? Shall we begin with the
+          surprise?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Go ahead, niece; what have you got?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb135" href="#pb135">135</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s only a trifle, Mynheer,&rdquo; put in the
+          catechist. &ldquo;My son is a poet. I don&rsquo;t praise him, because
+          he&rsquo;s too close kin to me; but he&rsquo;s a clever fellow&mdash;I
+          can say that without bragging&mdash;for everything comes from above.
+          No, I won&rsquo;t praise him&mdash;praise is for the Master alone. But
+          he&rsquo;s a clever fellow.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The poet Klaas looked conscious, and sat toying with the bottom button
+          on his vest. He looked poetical all over.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And so, Mynheer, without bragging&mdash;get it out, my son. As
+          a father, Mynheer, I may say that he&rsquo;s a clever fellow; for in
+          the Bible&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Klaasje drew a piece of paper from his pocket.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;In the Bible there is really nothing said about widowers&mdash;the
+          Master has his own good reasons for it&mdash;but what does the boy do?
+          He takes the hint and writes a whole poem on widows.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Klaasje laid the paper on the table.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, I dare say, he has brought into it all the widows
+          mentioned in the Bible.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You see it&rsquo;s a surprise. I told you so,&rdquo; said
+          Juffrouw Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Read it, Klaasje! There are seventy, Mynheer, seventy widows.
+          Read, my boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Klaas pulled at his clothes, arranged his cuffs and began:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;The widows that in the Bible appear,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            I&rsquo;ve brought together in this poem here,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            For the birthday that we celebrate
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Of him who sadly lost his mate,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Exalting always the Master of Love,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            For all that we have comes from above.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb136" href="#pb136">136</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s the prologue,&rdquo; explained the father.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, that&rsquo;s the prologue. Now I will read:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Genesis, 38, verse 11, it is said:
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            At her father-in-law&rsquo;s must the widow have her bed.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Exodus, 20, 22, it is penned:
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Widows and orphans thou shalt not offend.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Two verses further he threatens, wrathful and grim
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            To make widows of all the women that anger him.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Leviticus, 21, verse 14, thou read&rsquo;st
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            That a widow won&rsquo;t do for the wife of a priest.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            A chapter further, one verse less, we have read,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            That a childless widow must eat her father&rsquo;s bread.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            From Numbers, 30, verse 10, we clearly infer,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            That a widow&rsquo;s vow is sufficient for her.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          In this style he continued glibly, without any interruption; but when
+          he came to:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Second Samuel, 20, 3, very clearly outlines,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            That as widows must live David&rsquo;s concubines&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse became restless and had to have an explanation.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Juffrouw, concubines,&rdquo; said van der Gracht senior.
+          &ldquo;You see the boy has brought in everything relating to widows.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The verses are not the same length,&rdquo; Stoffel complained;
+          and there is no alternation of masculine and feminine lines.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You may be right, Stoffel, for you are a school-teacher; but
+          that&rsquo;s immaterial to me. These&mdash;these con&mdash;what shall
+          I say&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Pieterse, you ought not to mock at it,&rdquo; cried
+          Juffrouw Laps. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb137" href="#pb137">137</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s right,&rdquo; said the catechist, &ldquo;all
+          blessings come from above. Go ahead, Klaas!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, I will not hear such things&mdash;on account of my
+          daughters!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girls were examining their finger nails, and looked pre&euml;minently
+          respectable.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Go ahead, Klaas!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If I had known that this was going to happen, I would have left
+          my daughters at home.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Juffrouw, it&rsquo;s in the Bible. You&rsquo;re not
+          opposed to the Bible, are you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, but I refuse to hear anything that isn&rsquo;t respectable.
+          My husband&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Your husband sold shoes. I know it, Juffrouw, but you&rsquo;re
+          not going to turn against&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going to do anything against the Bible, but I
+          will not endure such coarseness. Come, Gertrude, come, children!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          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&mdash;that
+          is what lifts us up. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb138" href="#pb138">138</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch18" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XVIII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s illness now took a favorable turn. As soon as he was
+          strong enough to leave his bed, the whole family noticed that he had
+          grown. All remarked about it and called each other&rsquo;s attention
+          to it. No one was better convinced of the fact than Juffrouw Pieterse;
+          for &ldquo;that boy&rdquo; had &ldquo;outgrown all of his clothes,&rdquo;
+          and it would not be easy &ldquo;to fit him out respectably again.&rdquo;
+          So much interesting notoriety and respectability had been reaped from
+          Walter&rsquo;s illness that it was only natural that his convalescence
+          should be turned to the best account.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The child would sit and fill in the colors in pictures. The doctor had
+          presented him the pictures and a box of colors. The latter, so Stoffel
+          said, were the genuine English article.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, such pictures!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was interested especially by pictures from the opera and the
+          tragedy. There were pictures from Macbeth, Othello, Lear, Hamlet, from
+          &ldquo;The Magic Flute,&rdquo; &ldquo;The Barber of Seville,&rdquo;
+          &ldquo;Der Freisch&uuml;tz,&rdquo; and from still a few more&mdash;each
+          one always more romantic than the last. In selecting suitable colors
+          for his heroes and heroines, Walter had the advice of the entire
+          family, including Leentje. Usually there was disagreement, but that
+          only made the matter more important. In only two details were they
+          agreed: faces <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb139" href="#pb139">139</a>]</span>and
+          hands were to have flesh-color, and lips were to be painted red. It
+          had always been that way; otherwise, why was it called flesh-color? On
+          account of this arrangement Hamlet came off rather badly, receiving a
+          much more animated countenance than was suited to his melancholy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wish I knew what the dolls mean,&rdquo; said Walter. He was
+          talking about his pictures.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s only necessary to ask Stoffel,&rdquo; his mother
+          replied. &ldquo;Wait till he comes from school.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter asked him. Stoffel&mdash;there are more such people in the
+          world&mdash;would never admit that he did not know a thing; and he
+          always knew how to appear knowing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What the dolls mean? Well, you see&mdash;those are, so to say,
+          the pictures of various persons. There, for instance, the one with a
+          crown on his head&mdash;that is a king.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I told you Stoffel could explain them,&rdquo; corroborated his
+          mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, but I should have liked to know what king, and what he
+          did.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well! There it is at the bottom. You can read it, can&rsquo;t
+          you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Macbeth?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly. It&rsquo;s Macbeth, a famous king of ancient times.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And that one there with a sword in his hand?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Also a king, or a general, or a hero, or something of the kind&mdash;somebody
+          that wants to fight. Perhaps David, or Saul, or Alexander the Great.
+          That&rsquo;s not to be taken so exactly.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb140" href="#pb140">140</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And the lady with the flowers? She seems to be tearing them up.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That one? Show her to me: Ophelia. Yes, that&rsquo;s Ophelia.
+          Don&rsquo;t you know?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes. Why does she throw the leaves on the ground?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why? why? The questions you do ask!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Here the mother came to the rescue of her eldest son.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Walter, you mustn&rsquo;t ask more questions than anybody
+          can answer.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter did not ask any more questions, but he determined to get to the
+          bottom of the matter at the first opportunity. His imagination roamed
+          over immeasurable domains&mdash;such an insatiate conqueror was the
+          little emperor Walter in his night-jacket!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He associated the heroes of his pictures with the doctor, who had been
+          so friendly to him, and with his immortal Glorioso. The Peruvian
+          story, too, furnished a few subjects for his empire. He married
+          Telasco to Juliet; and the priests of the sun got their rights again.
+          Master Pennewip received a new wig, but of gold-colored threads, on
+          the model of the straw crown of a certain King Lear. Persons that he
+          could see from the window were numbered among his subjects. He had to
+          do something; and this foreign material was preferable to that in his
+          immediate surroundings. Even Lady Macbeth, who was washing her hands
+          and not looking particularly pleasing, seemed to him to be of a higher
+          order than his mother or Juffrouw Laps. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb141" href="#pb141">141</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In fact, for him those pictures were the greatest things in the world.
+          He was carried away with the crowns, diadems, plumes, iron gratings
+          over the faces, with the swords and the daggers with cross-hilts to
+          swear on&mdash;with the trains and puff-sleeves and girdles with
+          pendents of gold&mdash;and the pages. All this had nothing in common
+          with his everyday surroundings. How is it possible, he thought, that
+          anyone who has such beautiful pictures should sell them? The doctor
+          must have inherited them!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Even if he had known that Lady Macbeth was the personification of
+          crime, it would still have seemed to him a profanation to bring her
+          into contact with the plebeian commonness around him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All at once something in Ophelia&rsquo;s form reminded him of Femke.
+          She too could stand that way, plucking the petals from the flowers and
+          strewing them on the ground.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He had dim recollections of what had happened, and occasionally he
+          would ask indifferently about &ldquo;that girl.&rdquo; He was afraid
+          to speak her name before Gertrude, Mina, and Pietro. He was always
+          answered in tones that showed him that there was no room for his
+          romance there; but he promised himself to visit her as soon as he got
+          up.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;When you&rsquo;re better you must go to see the doctor and
+          thank him for curing you&mdash;but thank God first; and then you can
+          show him what you&rsquo;ve painted.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course, mother! I will give her the Prince of Denmark&mdash;I
+          mean him, the doctor.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But be careful not to soil it; and don&rsquo;t forget that
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb142" href="#pb142">142</a>]</span>the
+          ghost of the old knight must be very pale. Stoffel said so&mdash;because
+          it&rsquo;s a ghost, you see.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother, I&rsquo;ll make it white.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Good. And you&rsquo;ll make the lady there yellow?&rdquo;
+          pointing with a knitting-needle to Ophelia.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; cried Walter quickly, &ldquo;she was blue!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She was? Who was?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I only mean that I have so much yellow already, and I wanted to
+          make her&mdash;this one&mdash;Ophelia&mdash;I wanted to make her blue.
+          That one washing her hands can stay yellow.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So far as I&rsquo;m concerned,&rdquo; the mother said, &ldquo;but
+          don&rsquo;t soil it!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel, in the meantime, had got on the track of those pictures. He
+          was slick and had an inquiring mind. One of his colleagues at school,
+          who was in some way connected with the stage, told him that such
+          costume-pictures were of great value to players. He also told him
+          other things about these pictures and about the play in general.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was fortunate for Walter that Stoffel brought this knowledge home
+          with him. Even to-day there are people who find something immoral in
+          the words &ldquo;Theatre&rdquo; and &ldquo;Player&rdquo;; but at that
+          time it was still worse. The satisfaction, however, of imparting
+          knowledge and appearing wise put Stoffel in an attitude of mind on
+          this occasion that ordinarily would have been irreconcilable with that
+          narrowness which with him took the place of conscience.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You see, mother, there are comedies and comedies. Some are sad,
+          some funny. Some are all nonsense, and there&rsquo;s nothing to be
+          learned from them; but there <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb143"
+          href="#pb143">143</a>]</span>are comedies so sad that the people wail
+          when they see them&mdash;even respectable people!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is it possible!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and then there are others where there&rsquo;s music and
+          singing. They are nice, and moral too. They are called operas; and
+          people who are entirely respectable go there. You see, mother, there&rsquo;s
+          nothing bad about it; and we ought not to be so narrow. The old Greeks
+          had comedies, and our professors still study them.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is it possible!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Walter&rsquo;s pictures are from real comedies; but I can&rsquo;t
+          tell all the details now. I will only say there are good comedies.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You must tell Juffrouw Laps. She always says&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And what does she know about it? She never saw a comedy in her
+          life.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was the truth; but it was just as true of the Pieterse family&mdash;with
+          the exception of Leentje.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          One afternoon Leentje had complained of a terrible headache and had
+          left off sewing and gone out. Later it was learned that she had not
+          spent the evening with her mother; and then there was a perfect storm.
+          But Leentje would not say where she had been that night. &ldquo;That
+          night&rdquo; was Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s expression, though she knew
+          that the girl was at home by eleven o&rsquo;clock. Leentje betrayed
+          nothing. She had promised the dressmaker next door not to say
+          anything; for the dressmaker had to be very careful, because her
+          husband was a hypocrite.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In Leentje&rsquo;s work-box was found a mutilated program; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb144" href="#pb144">144</a>]</span>and then
+          one day she began to sing a song she had never sung before&mdash;&ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+          full of honor, I&rsquo;m full of honor; oh, yes, I&rsquo;m a man of
+          honor!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And then it was all out! She had been to the Elandstraat and had seen
+          the famous Ivan Gras in a comedy!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Leentje began to cry and was going to promise never to do so again,
+          when, to her amazement, she was told that there was nothing wrong in
+          it, and that even the greatest professors went to see comedies.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And now she must tell them about it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was &ldquo;The Child of Love,&rdquo; <span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e3409" title="Source: By">by</span> Kotzebue, that had greeted
+          her astonished eyes.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There was music, Juffrouw, and they played beautifully; and
+          then the curtain went up, and there was a great forest, and a woman
+          wept under a tree. There was a Baron who made her son a prisoner,
+          because he was a hunter&mdash;but he spoke so nice, and his mother,
+          too. The Baron said he was master on his place, and that he would
+          punish such thieves. He was in a great rage. And then the mother said&mdash;no,
+          somebody else came and said&mdash;but then the curtain went down. The
+          dressmaker bought waffles that were being passed around, and we drank
+          chocolate. The dressmaker said that every day wasn&rsquo;t a feast
+          day. A man sat behind us and explained everything and took our cups
+          when they were empty. Then the band played, &lsquo;Pretty girls and
+          pretty flowers.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Shame!&rdquo; cried the three young ladies. For it was a common
+          street song.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And then the curtain went up again of its own <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb145" href="#pb145">145</a>]</span>accord;
+          but the gentleman behind us said somebody raised it&mdash;perhaps the
+          &lsquo;Child of Love&rsquo; himself, for he was not in prison when the
+          curtain was down. The dressmaker gave him a peppermint-drop, and he
+          said: &lsquo;Watch the stage, Juffrouw, for you have paid to see it.&rsquo;
+          It cost twelve stivers, without the waffles and chocolate. Then the
+          Baron said&mdash;but I can&rsquo;t tell it all exactly as it was. I
+          will only say that the old woman wept all the time, and she could not
+          be reconciled, because she was so unhappy. You see, Juffrouw, the
+          child of love was her own child; and it was also the Baron&rsquo;s
+          child of love. That was bad&mdash;because it was just a child of love,
+          you see; and that is always bad. He had no papers, no credentials; nor
+          the mother, either. And he was to die because he had hunted. Oh, it
+          was beautiful, Juffrouw! And then the curtain went down again and we
+          ate another waffle. The gentleman behind us said it was well that they
+          gave plays with prison scenes in them. There were so many bad people
+          in the hall, such as pickpockets and the like, and this would be a
+          warning for them. The dressmaker was going to offer him another
+          mint-drop, when she saw that her box was gone. It was silver. The
+          gentleman said of course some pickpocket had taken it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He was the pickpocket!&rdquo; exclaimed several.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Leentje was indignant at the idea.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no! Don&rsquo;t say that; it&rsquo;s a sin. He was a very
+          respectable gentleman, and addressed me as Juffrouw, just as he did
+          the dressmaker. He tried to find the thief. He asked where the
+          Juffrouw lived, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb146" href="#pb146">146</a>]</span>and
+          said that if he found the box he would bring it to her. He wore a
+          fancy vest&mdash;no, no, no. Don&rsquo;t say that of him!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, tell some more about the child of love.&rdquo; All were
+          interested.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, the music was so nice! And a gentleman showed them with a
+          stick how to play.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But tell us about the comedy!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That is not so easy. It was very beautiful. It must be seen; it
+          can&rsquo;t be told. The Baron saw that the hunter in prison was his
+          own son; because a long time before, you see, that is&mdash;formerly,
+          he had been acquainted with&mdash;you understand&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Poor Leentje turned as red as fire, and left her audience in a
+          temporary suspense.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, he had <span class="corr" id="xd0e3440"
+          title="Source: know">known</span> the old woman formerly, and then
+          they were good friends, and were often together&mdash;I will just tell
+          it that way&mdash;and they were to marry, but something came between
+          them; and so&mdash;and&mdash;for that reason the comedy was called the
+          &lsquo;Child of Love.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter listened with as much interest as the others; but he was less
+          affected than the girls, who sat quietly staring into space. Stoffel
+          felt called upon to say something.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s it! He abused her chastity&mdash;that&rsquo;s the
+          way it&rsquo;s spoken of&mdash;and she was left to bear the disgrace.
+          The youth of to-day cannot be warned enough against this. How often
+          have I told the boys at school!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Listen, Walter, and pay attention to what Stoffel says!&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb147" href="#pb147">147</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Encouraged by the approval of his mother, Stoffel continued.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother, virtue must be revered. That is God&rsquo;s will;
+          and what God does is well done. Of all sins sensual pleasure is&mdash;a
+          very great sin, because it is forbidden; and because all sins are
+          punished, either in this world or in the next.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you hear, Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Here, or in the next world, mother! Innocent pleasure, yes; but
+          sensual pleasure&mdash;it is forbidden! It loosens all the ties of
+          human society. You see that such a comedy can be very fine. Only you
+          must understand it properly&mdash;that&rsquo;s the idea.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And what did the Baron do then?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, Juffrouw, what shall I say! He talked a whole lot to the
+          old woman, and was very sad because he had&mdash;away back there&mdash;because
+          he had&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Seduced her,&rdquo; added Stoffel, seeing that Leentje couldn&rsquo;t
+          find the word. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what it&rsquo;s called.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, that&rsquo;s what she said, too; and he promised never to
+          do it again. And then he told the child of love always to follow the
+          path of virtue, and that he would marry the old woman. She was
+          satisfied with the arrangement.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I suppose so,&rdquo; cried the three girls in a breath. &ldquo;She
+          will be a rich baroness!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Leentje, &ldquo;she became a great lady. And
+          then the child of love fell on the Baron&rsquo;s neck; and they played
+          &lsquo;Bridal Wreath.&rsquo; The &lsquo;Child of Love&rsquo; became a
+          hussar and sang, &lsquo;I&rsquo;m full of honor, I&rsquo;m full of
+          honor; Oh, I&rsquo;m a man of honor!&rsquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb148" href="#pb148">148</a>]</span>I don&rsquo;t know what became
+          of the old Baron. And then we went home; but the dressmaker took no
+          more pleasure in the play now, because her silver box was gone. I don&rsquo;t
+          know whether the gentleman ever brought it to her, or not.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The play was out.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girls thought: &ldquo;Baroness!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel was thinking: &ldquo;Virtue!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mother&rsquo;s thoughts ran: &ldquo;Twelve stivers for a ticket,
+          and waffles and chocolate extra!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was saying to himself: &ldquo;A hunter! A whole year in the
+          forest, in the great forest, and alone. I&rsquo;d like to do it, too.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He took up his brush and looked at Ophelia: &ldquo;To be alone in the
+          great forest with&mdash;Femke!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But the theatre question was far from being settled. Leentje had to
+          clear up many doubtful points yet. For instance, Pietro wanted to know
+          how old the woman was when the Baron finally married her. Leentje
+          thought she must have been about sixty.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Also Juffrouw Laps had to express her opinion. She declared that she
+          was opposed to everything &ldquo;worldly,&rdquo; and insisted that
+          Walter be sent to church.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Later she got into a big dispute over the theatre with Master
+          Pennewip, whom Stoffel had brought in to reinforce his position. He
+          had brought with him &ldquo;Floris the Fifth,&rdquo; that powerful
+          comedy by the noble <span class="corr" id="xd0e3490"
+          title="Source: Bilderdijk">Bilderdyk</span>. With many declensions and
+          conjugations and remarks on rhyme and metre, he explained, firstly,
+          that &ldquo;Floris the Fifth&rdquo; was a play from which much <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb149" href="#pb149">149</a>]</span>could be
+          learned; and, secondly, that the theatre was something very moral and
+          thoroughly respectable.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To be sure, he failed to convince Juffrouw Laps. Nor was Walter
+          greatly impressed by that masterpiece, despite the fact that there
+          were three deaths in it. He much preferred the beautiful story of
+          Glorioso, or the Peruvian story&mdash;or even Little Red <span
+          class="corr" id="xd0e3497" title="Source: Riding-hood">Riding Hood</span>.
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb150" href="#pb150">150</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch19" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XIX
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Walter had been to church: that was now behind him. Stoffel thought
+          the pastor had preached a beautiful sermon, and said that &ldquo;in a
+          way all he said could be accepted.&rdquo; He hoped that it would
+          &ldquo;bear fruit.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the mother, &ldquo;and he mustn&rsquo;t tear
+          his new breeches again. They cost too much hard work for that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As a matter of fact the &ldquo;hard work&rdquo; done in the Pieterse
+          family might be regarded as a negligible quantity. There was the
+          necessary housework, and the usual complaining&mdash;or boasting, if
+          you will&mdash;but this was to be expected.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That Walter had postponed his visit to go to church was a result of
+          the frightful threats of Juffrouw Laps. She cited Second Chronicles
+          xvi. 12, and in the face of this text the Pieterses were not able
+          successfully to defend their new and more liberal position. Juffrouw
+          Pieterse could only say that the Bible was not to be interpreted that
+          way, as if everything in it applied to a given individual.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Juffrouw Laps stuck to it, that if one has faith and grace one may
+          come through all right; whereupon Juffrouw Pieterse expressed her
+          willingness at all times to take advice.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Those are the essential things; through them we are saved! And&mdash;send
+          him to me the first of the week. <span class="pagenum"> [<a id="pb151"
+          href="#pb151">151</a>]</span>Or he can come Sunday, but after church.
+          Then he can tell me about the sermon, even if the pastors are&mdash;but
+          what does a child know about it!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps didn&rsquo;t think much of pastors. She held that people
+          with grace in their hearts can understand God&rsquo;s word without
+          Greek and Latin.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Sunday after church. I will count upon it.&rdquo; And in
+          order to make her invitation more insistent she mentioned certain
+          sweets that she usually served her guests at that time.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Supposing that Juffrouw Laps was really anxious for Walter to come, we
+          must admit that she showed deep knowledge of boy-nature.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As for Walter, he was afraid to be alone with this pious lady. For him
+          she was the living embodiment of all the plagues that are made use of
+          in the Old Testament to convert rebellious tribes to the true faith.
+          For instance, thunder and lightning, pestilence, abysses, boils,
+          flaming swords, etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If he had had the courage he would have asked her just to deposit the
+          promised dainties somewhere outside of her flat. He would find them
+          then. But he didn&rsquo;t have the courage.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And why didn&rsquo;t you go?&rdquo; asked the mother when
+          Stoffel&rsquo;s enthusiasm over the sermon had begun to die down.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter said he had a pain in his stomach, which children always have
+          when they want to bridge over disagreeable duties. With a better
+          understanding between the parents and children this disease would be
+          less frequent.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe you have any pain in your stomach,&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb152" href="#pb152">152</a>]</span>declared
+          the mother. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s only because you&rsquo;re a bad child
+          and never do what you&rsquo;re told to do.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel agreed with her; and then a council of war was held. Walter
+          was condemned to go to Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s at once; and he went.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Expecting some terrible ordeal, he was greatly embarrassed and
+          confused by the show of friendliness with which he was received.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you did come, my dear boy! But you are so late! Church has
+          been out a long time. See what I have for you, expressly for <i> you</i>!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She thrust him into a chair at the table and shoved all sorts of
+          sweets over to him. Walter&rsquo;s embarrassment increased; and he
+          felt even less at ease when she began to stroke him and call him pet
+          names.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Now, tell me about the sermon,&rdquo; she said, when the child
+          tried to escape the tenderness and affection to which he was not
+          accustomed. &ldquo;What did the pastor say?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The text&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But that&rsquo;s all right&mdash;afterwards, when your mouth is
+          empty. You must eat a few cakes first. Nobody can do everything at
+          once. There is chocolate; and you&rsquo;re to have a little dram, too.
+          I&rsquo;ve always said that you are a nice boy; but they&rsquo;re
+          forever plaguing you so. But you&rsquo;re not eating enough; do just
+          as if you were at home.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For Walter that was not the right expression. At home!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His first surprise over Walter began to be possessed by a feeling of
+          fear. Why, he could not have told to save him. <span class="pagenum">
+          [<a id="pb153" href="#pb153">153</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Suddenly he got up and declared that his mother had told him not to
+          stay long.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There wasn&rsquo;t a word of truth in it. Juffrouw Laps protested, but
+          Walter held his ground. Despite all of that kindness Walter was able
+          to escape from the enemy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Promising &ldquo;to come back soon&rdquo; he ran down the steps and
+          into the street.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          An indescribable feeling of freedom regained thrilled through him. He
+          had escaped. It was incomprehensible even to him. Never had he been
+          received so kindly, so cordially; never had he been treated in a
+          manner approaching this. But why his antipathy? When he left she was
+          going to kiss him, but he managed to dodge her. Why? He didn&rsquo;t
+          know. But it made him shudder to think of it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Should he go home now? What excuse could he give for coming back so
+          soon?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Involuntarily he bent his steps toward Ash Gate. It was not his
+          intention to visit Femke&mdash;not at all, really not! For he didn&rsquo;t
+          have his Ophelia with him&mdash;proof conclusive that when he left
+          home he had not thought of Femke.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And when he came in sight of his mills on the Buitensingel&mdash;oh,
+          they were silent! Was there no wind? Or were they observing Sunday?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Buitensingel was full of people taking a Sunday stroll. Walter
+          followed the small stream, which led him towards Femke&rsquo;s house.
+          Soon he stood before the low enclosure; but he did not dare to go in.
+          Why? He put the blame on the absent Ophelia.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If I only had that picture here I&rsquo;d certainly go in!&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb154" href="#pb154">154</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That is questionable. Even with the picture he would have probably
+          been just as shy. He didn&rsquo;t know what he ought to say&mdash;or,
+          better, whether he could say anything, or not. He reflected. Suppose
+          Femke&rsquo;s mother should ask, &ldquo;Did you want anything?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          We&mdash;yes, the &ldquo;gentle reader&rdquo; and I&mdash;we should
+          have known what to answer. I wonder if our wisdom would have been
+          wiser than the stupidity of the child, who stood irresolute and
+          hesitating before the fence?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He stood staring at the house, his mouth wide open. His knees
+          trembled, his heart fluttered, his tongue was dry.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A small column of smoke curling up from the chimney aroused him. What
+          if a fire should break out! Then he would have to go in. He would
+          rescue her, and carry her away in his arms&mdash;far, far away&mdash;to
+          the end of the world, or at least outside of the town! Just anywhere
+          where the people wear red velvet and green silk, where the gentlemen
+          carry big swords and the ladies wear long trains. They would be so
+          becoming to Femke. And she should ride horseback, and he would follow
+          her&mdash;no, he would ride by her side, with a falcon on his hand!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If a fire should break out!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Walter saw that the house was in no danger. This smoke came from
+          the kitchen. He noticed other houses in the neighborhood where cooking
+          seemed to be going on, and everywhere the chimneys were bearing
+          witness to activities below which were presumably similar to those of
+          Femke.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Finally a crowd of fellows came along who had <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb155" href="#pb155">155</a>]</span>evidently been stopping at one
+          of those establishments where &ldquo;refreshments&rdquo; are served.
+          They had been greatly refreshed, and in their exuberance of freshness,
+          so to say, they crowded Walter away from the fence and took him along
+          with them for a little way.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was easily reconciled to this; for why, he thought, should he stand
+          there and watch the smoke? There wasn&rsquo;t going to be any fire;
+          and then he didn&rsquo;t have Ophelia with him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But to-morrow! To-morrow he would bring that picture with him! And
+          then he wouldn&rsquo;t stand at the fence like a baby.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He felt ashamed when he thought of his friends in their gay colors, or
+          in armor, with plumes and swords. Those kings and knights and pages&mdash;they
+          had been courageous, otherwise they never would have received such
+          high orders and distinctions. Unless there were some change, he felt
+          that he would never be pictured like that.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          However, he expected that such a change would come&mdash;without
+          doubt, surely, certainly, truly! The further he went, the more
+          determined he became to go in the next day and put on a bold front and
+          say: &ldquo;Good-day, Juffrouw, how do you do?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was more difficult for him to decide what he would say to Femke.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He made up various little speeches in the manner of Floris the Fifth.
+          In case Femke shouldn&rsquo;t like them he was going to say, &ldquo;Why,
+          that is from our greatest poet.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And then he would ask her to explain a lot of mysterious <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb156" href="#pb156">156</a>]</span>words in
+          Floris that he hadn&rsquo;t understood&mdash;for instance, &ldquo;fast
+          fellow,&rdquo; &ldquo;coverture,&rdquo; &ldquo;chastity,&rdquo; and
+          others.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s development was determined by his desire to know
+          things. His feeling for Femke, which was hardly real love, was
+          subordinated to his thirst for knowledge. He knew that he couldn&rsquo;t
+          get much from her, especially book-learning; but it was a pleasure
+          merely to discuss things with her, even if she knew nothing about
+          them.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was curious to know all that she might have to tell him, or to ask
+          him; for no doubt she too had been saving up her impressions for her
+          first friend. But, alas! he was not so certain of her friendship!
+          True, when he was sick she had asked about him; but perhaps she was
+          just passing by, and thought how easy it would be to ring the bell and
+          ask, &ldquo;How is Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Still it had taken courage to do it. What would Mungo Park have said
+          if he had seen him hesitating before the gate! Walter knew that wasn&rsquo;t
+          the way to conquer the world.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And if anybody had asked Mungo Park: &ldquo;What do you want in
+          Africa?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Well, he would have answered. Such a traveller in such a book is never
+          embarrassed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then Walter began to address all sorts of remarks to negro kings that
+          he had conquered with lance and sword. All the women kissed his hand
+          as he rode by on his bay, with fiery red caparison. He inquired
+          patronizingly after those good girls who had nursed him in his
+          illness, &ldquo;because the strange white man was <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb157" href="#pb157">157</a>]</span>far from mother and sisters
+          and had no home.&rdquo; He would reward them princely.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In all this conquered land Walter was king and Femke was&mdash;queen!
+          How magnificent the big red velvet cloak would look on her&mdash;and
+          the gold crown!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Conquering continents was easy. He was scarcely thirteen; and yet he
+          was afraid that somebody might get ahead of him while he was being
+          detained by the treacherous Pennewip with declensions and
+          conjugations. And, then there were still more things to learn before
+          one could be king, even of a small country. Pocket-change would have
+          to be increased too, for, with all possible economy, six doits a week
+          were insufficient. The Hallemans&mdash;well, they had more; but
+          fortunately they were not thinking of Africa. For the present he was
+          not afraid of any competition from that quarter; but other children,
+          nearer the &ldquo;grown-up&rdquo; stage, might get the idea in their
+          heads! And then, what would he do to keep his mother from guessing
+          when he made his trips into the &ldquo;interior&rdquo; longer, and
+          stayed out later than was allowed by the regulations of the Pieterse
+          household?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was a difficult matter, but he would manage it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All that might happen to him and Femke in Africa would be read
+          afterwards in pretty little books with colored pictures. He already
+          saw himself sitting on a throne, and Femke by his side. She was not
+          proud; she was willing for everybody to know&mdash;all those kneeling
+          before her&mdash;that she had been a poor wash-girl. She had become
+          queen because Walter had loved her; and now they needn&rsquo;t kneel
+          any more. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb158" href="#pb158">158</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On special occasions&mdash;well, of course, that was different; for
+          instance, when his mother and Stoffel came to visit him. They should
+          see how all the people honored him&mdash;and Femke whom they had
+          treated so badly. But once would be enough; then he would forgive them
+          everything and build them a big house with water-barrels and
+          wash-tubs. For Pennewip he would build a big schoolhouse, with desks
+          and ink-bottles and copy-books and wall maps of Europe and tables of
+          the new weights and measures. Then the old master could give
+          instruction from early in the morning till late at night&mdash;or even
+          all night.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was just puzzling over how he was going to reconcile Master
+          Pennewip and the dusky young African to one another when Leentje
+          opened the door.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Without noticing it he had got home and rung the door-bell.
+          Unsuspectingly he fell into an environment quite different from that
+          in which he had moved for the last half hour. He scarcely understood
+          what his mother meant when she asked him how the visit turned out, and
+          whether Juffrouw Laps was satisfied with his report on the sermon.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Sermon? Laps? He was unprepared for such an examination. He stammered
+          out a sort of miscellaneous and irrelevant jumble of words, but
+          fortunately containing nothing about Africa.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It now developed that in the meantime there had been a sudden change
+          in certain details of religious belief.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You see, mother?&rdquo; said Stoffel. &ldquo;Just as I&rsquo;ve
+          always said, it would take a lawyer to explain anything to suit her.
+          She always knows better&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s so,&rdquo; answered the mother. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s
+          cracked <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb159" href="#pb159">159</a>]</span>or
+          crazy. Now, just tell me, Stoffel, if anyone can expect such a child
+          to remember everything a preacher says. I can&rsquo;t do it myself;
+          and you can&rsquo;t do it, either. Master Pennewip can&rsquo;t do it.
+          I tell you, nobody can do it. And to require that of such a child! She
+          just wants to play the professor; that&rsquo;s the reason she does it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel was of the same opinion. Encouraged by his sympathy the mother
+          became eloquent.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I would like to know what she&rsquo;s thinking about; or if she
+          thinks she&rsquo;s a pastor. With all her biblical quotations! And
+          then to torment a child hardly out of a sick bed&mdash;it&rsquo;s a
+          disgrace. You don&rsquo;t need to go to her. What business have you
+          got with her? I tell you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Here it occurred to her that she herself had compelled Walter to go,
+          and she interrupted this line of thought to scold Walter and tell him
+          to get out of his Sunday breeches. Her dissatisfaction with herself
+          expressed itself further in a funeral oration on Walter&rsquo;s last
+          suit, which had cost so much &ldquo;hard work.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And then to let that child sit there for an hour without
+          anything to eat or drink! She would&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s feeling for justice couldn&rsquo;t let that pass. He
+          assured them that on the contrary&mdash;and then that excessive
+          kindness got in his way again. In his confusion he went into all the
+          details of the chocolate.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well! Why didn&rsquo;t you say so at once? But it&rsquo;s all
+          the same. I was going to add that she ought to have given you
+          something to eat. That&rsquo;s the way such folks are&mdash;always
+          grumbling about others and they won&rsquo;t see themselves. I believe
+          in grace too, and when <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb160"
+          href="#pb160">160</a>]</span>I have my housework done I like to hear
+          the Scripture read&mdash;but to be everlastingly and eternally prating
+          about it? No, that isn&rsquo;t religion. What do you say, Stoffel? One
+          must work part of the time. Walter! aren&rsquo;t you going to pull off
+          those new breeches? I&rsquo;ve told him a dozen times. Trudie, give
+          him his old ones!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter changed his breeches; but he promised himself that in Africa he
+          would wear Sunday breeches every day. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb161" href="#pb161">161</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch20" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XX
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The next day Walter rang the doctor&rsquo;s door-bell. His heart was
+          in a flutter, for the doctor lived in an imposing house. He was
+          admitted and, after he had been announced, was told just to come
+          upstairs.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The maid conducted Walter to the &ldquo;study,&rdquo; where the doctor
+          was busy performing one of his paternal duties: he was teaching his
+          children.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There were three. A boy, somewhat older than Walter, sat alone in one
+          corner writing at a small table. The other two, a boy of Walter&rsquo;s
+          age and a girl that seemed to be a few years younger, stood before the
+          table behind which the doctor was sitting. On the table stood a large
+          globe, evidently the subject of discussion. This became clear to
+          Walter later, for, as far as he knew, he had never seen such a large
+          ball. He didn&rsquo;t know that there was any other way to explain the
+          location of countries except by means of maps. Thus he noticed in the
+          room all sorts of things that he didn&rsquo;t understand till later.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When the maid opened the door of the room he heard the voices of the
+          children, and also that of the father. He even heard laughter; but
+          when he walked in all became as still as death. The two children at
+          the table stood like soldiers. There was something so comical in their
+          attitude that Walter could have laughed at them if he hadn&rsquo;t
+          been so embarrassed. Even the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb162"
+          href="#pb162">162</a>]</span>girl had a touch of official earnestness
+          in her face more striking than he had seen it in older people, even at
+          church. While the doctor was welcoming Walter and offering him a
+          chair, the boy stood with hands clapped down on the seams of his
+          trousers as if he expected someone to say, &ldquo;Right about&mdash;face!&rdquo;
+          or, &ldquo;Forward, column right, march!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The larger boy in the corner had only looked up once, but with that
+          peculiarly hostile expression which distinguishes man from other
+          animals&mdash;to the disadvantage of the former. It is noticeable
+          especially in children&mdash;sometimes in women.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad to see you, my boy. It was nice of you to come.
+          What have you there?&rdquo;&mdash;then he turned to the little
+          soldiers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Remind me afterward to tell you at dinner something about
+          Olivier van Noort. William, you can think of it, can&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter squinted at his Lady Macbeth, and was so embarrassed that he
+          was helpless to present it to the doctor. The room was so magnificent;
+          and the furnishings&mdash;the big cases full of books! His picture
+          seemed so common and ugly that, if he could have done so, he would
+          have swallowed it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At home they had taught him how he must stand and sit and speak; and
+          now he stood there, as awkward as a cow, stammering and stuttering.
+          Making a supreme effort he managed to get it out that he had &ldquo;come
+          to thank the doctor&rdquo; for his recovery&mdash;&ldquo;but God first&rdquo;!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The two soldiers bit their lips; and even the doctor found it
+          difficult to keep a straight face. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb163"
+          href="#pb163">163</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;God first! Well said, my boy. Have you already thanked God?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, M&rsquo;nheer, every evening in bed, and yesterday at
+          church.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Little Sietske unable to control herself any longer had to laugh
+          outright. Her laughter threatened to become contagious. William was
+          busier than usual with his nose; Hermann had come to life and was
+          eyeing Walter slyly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Order!&rdquo; thundered the doctor, giving the table a rap with
+          a ruler that made the globe tremble. Walter was frightened. &ldquo;Order!
+          This is a nice caper during study-hours.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The clock began to strike. Sietske seemed to be counting, for at every
+          stroke she raised a finger.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am going to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Five!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;All my fingers&mdash;just look,
+          five! Five o&rsquo;clock, papa&mdash;Tyrant! Hurrah, hurrah!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Both boys joined in the uproar. It was a quodlibet from &ldquo;Gaudeamus
+          igitur,&rdquo; &ldquo;<span lang="fr">Vive la joie</span>,&rdquo; and
+          &ldquo;God save the king.&rdquo; Forward, all! <span lang="fr">Vive la
+          vacance! A bas les tyrans!</span> Revenge! * * * *
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The children were determined to have their well earned romp; and they
+          had it. Walter rubbed his eyes, and would not believe his ears. It was
+          beyond his comprehension. * * * *
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That will do now,&rdquo; said the doctor. &ldquo;Come, mamma is
+          waiting dinner&mdash;and you, too, my boy!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          William took Sietske on his back and Hermann mounted the father. Thus
+          they descended the stairs, Walter bringing up the rear. Lady Macbeth
+          had disappeared, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb164" href="#pb164">164</a>]</span>being
+          now crumpled up in Walter&rsquo;s breast-pocket.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was nonplussed. Was this the same man who used the gold pen?&mdash;whose
+          coachman wore the furs?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How was it possible? Was it a dream, that he and all the family had
+          looked on this man and simply been overcome by his dignity?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He couldn&rsquo;t understand it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again the atmosphere of the dining-room was quite different from that
+          of the schoolroom, either before or directly after five.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Present the young gentleman to your mamma,&rdquo; said the
+          doctor, turning to William.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;May I do it?&rdquo; asked Sietske.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Doctor Holsma nodded, and the little girl took Walter by the hand and
+          conducted him to a lady who sat at the head of the table preparing the
+          salad.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mamma, this is a young gentleman&mdash;oh, I must know your
+          name. What is your name?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Walter Pieterse.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;This is Mr. Walter Pieterse, who has come to thank papa,
+          because he&mdash;he was sick; and he&mdash;the young gentleman is
+          going to stay for dinner, papa?&rdquo;&mdash;the doctor nodded again&mdash;&ldquo;and
+          he&rsquo;s going to stay for dinner, mamma.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;With mamma&rsquo;s consent,&rdquo; said the father.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, with mamma&rsquo;s consent.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mevrouw Holsma spoke to Walter kindly and offered him a chair. It was
+          necessary, too.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Everything seemed so princely to Walter that he was glad to be seated.
+          Three-fourths of his little figure <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb165"
+          href="#pb165">165</a>]</span>was hidden under the table. That was
+          something gained. He was amazed at almost everything he saw and heard.
+          He folded his hands.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you want to say a grace, little man?&rdquo; asked the
+          doctor.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, M&rsquo;nheer,&rdquo; Walter stammered.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A good custom. Do you always do that at the table?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, always&mdash;at warm meals, M&rsquo;nheer!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Those children had been taught good manners. Nobody smiled.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter bowed his head for a moment; and the doctor took advantage of
+          the opportunity to give the children a look of warning. They
+          remembered; and, if afterwards Walter discovered that he had cut a
+          singular figure in this household, they were not to blame.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You do well to do it,&rdquo; said Holsma. &ldquo;We don&rsquo;t
+          do it; and perhaps we do well not to.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; said the mother. &ldquo;Everyone must act
+          according to his own conviction.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This simple statement moved Walter more than any of them could have
+          imagined. He&mdash;a conviction! That short sentence of Mevrouw Holsma
+          attributed to him a dignity and importance that was strange to him,
+          and gave him a right he had never thought of before. Through the soup
+          he was thinking continually: &ldquo;I may have a conviction!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It never occurred to him that a thing could be interpreted otherwise
+          than it was interpreted for him by his mother or Stoffel, or some
+          other grown-up person. The whole question of praying, or not praying,
+          did not <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb166" href="#pb166">166</a>]</span>appear
+          so important to him as this new fact, that he could have a conviction.
+          His heart swelled.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The doctor, who understood Walter, recalled him from his thoughts.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Everyone must act according to his conviction; and in order to
+          come to a conviction one has to reflect a long time over the matter. I
+          am convinced that our little guest would like to eat some of those
+          peas. Pass them to him, Sietske.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had grasped the import of Holsma&rsquo;s words, and also the
+          meaning of this transition to the peas. Walter felt&mdash;without
+          putting his feelings into words&mdash;that the pedantry of the
+          schoolroom had been put aside at five o&rsquo;clock, and that his host
+          merely wanted to give him a friendly warning against dogmatic bigotry,
+          without tainting the fresh, wholesome atmosphere of the dining-room.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Despite his shy, retiring nature&mdash;or, better, in connection with
+          this characteristic&mdash;Walter was an extremely intelligent boy.
+          This fact had escaped almost everybody he had come in contact with
+          because of his lack of self-confidence, which prevented him from
+          revealing his true self. He usually seemed to comprehend more slowly
+          than others; but this was because he was less easily satisfied with
+          the result of his thinking. His mind was exacting of knowledge. During
+          Walter&rsquo;s sickness Holsma had remarked this peculiarity of the
+          boy, and his interest had been enlisted at once.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s shyness was due in a great measure to the manner in
+          which he had been taught what little he knew. Everything his teachers
+          taught him was looked <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb167"
+          href="#pb167">167</a>]</span>upon by them as something immutable and
+          irrefutable. Twice two is four, Prince so-and-so is a hero, good
+          children go to heaven, God is great, the Reform Church represents the
+          true faith, etc., etc. It was never hinted to him that there was any
+          room for doubt. Indeed, he was led to believe that his desire to know
+          more about things was improper and even sinful.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After all those extraordinary occurrences in the study, Walter was
+          prepared to expect almost anything in the way of the unusual, but that
+          William and Hermann, and even little Sietske, were allowed to help
+          their plates to whatever they wanted&mdash;that was more wonderful to
+          him than the a&euml;rial voyage of Elias. With Genevi&egrave;ve in the
+          famous wilderness&mdash;yes, even in Africa it couldn&rsquo;t be any
+          more free and easy. He was continually surprised and taken off his
+          guard by the unwonted and unexpected. In fact, his thoughts were so
+          far away that when during dessert the little girl passed him a saucer
+          of cream&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Ye gods, it happened and&mdash;I must tell it. Oh, if like the
+          chroniclers of old, I might put the blame on some privy councilor,
+          &ldquo;who unfortunately advised,&rdquo; etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But what privy councilor in the whole world could have advised Walter
+          to let that porcelain spoon tilt over the edge of the saucer and fall
+          into Sietske&rsquo;s lap! He did it, he!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, how sad it was. He had just begun to pull himself up in his chair.
+          Another moment and he would have actually been sitting. Perhaps he
+          might have said something soon. The name of a certain country in
+          Africa, which Sietske could not remember a moment <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb168" href="#pb168">168</a>]</span>before, had occurred to him.
+          It was not that he might seem smarter than Sietske that he was going
+          to speak out. No, it was only that he might seem a little less stupid
+          than himself. But now&mdash;that miserable spoon!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Before he had time to wonder how his awkwardness would be received,
+          Sietske was talking along smoothly about something else&mdash;just as
+          if this little &ldquo;catastrophe&rdquo; was a matter of course.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Papa, you were going to tell us something about Olivier van
+          Noort.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She arose, wiped off her little skirt and fetched Walter another spoon
+          from the buffet.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, papa, Olivier van Noort! You promised it, papa.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All urged him to tell the story. Even Mevrouw Holsma manifested great
+          interest in it. Walter was aware that this conversation was intended
+          to cover up his accident. He was moved; for he was not accustomed to
+          anything like this. As Sietske took her seat again she noticed a tear
+          creeping down across his cheek.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mamma, I got a silver spoon. That&rsquo;s just as good, isn&rsquo;t
+          it? These porcelain things are so heavy and awkward. They&rsquo;ve
+          fallen out of my hand three times; and Hermann can&rsquo;t manage
+          them, either.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mother nodded to her.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And how it is with Olivier van Noort?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The door-bell rang, and almost immediately afterwards a gentleman
+          entered the room who was greeted by the children as Uncle Sybrand.
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb169" href="#pb169">169</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The host now invited all to the garden and sent Hermann to the study
+          for a book.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You young rascal, don&rsquo;t you go now and maliciously break
+          that globe. It can&rsquo;t help it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then came the story of Admiral Olivier van Noort and the poor
+          Vice-Admiral Jan Claesz van Ilpendam, who was put ashore in the Strait
+          of Magellan for insubordination. It interested all, and called forth a
+          lively discussion, in which the entire family as well as the guests
+          took part. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb170" href="#pb170">170</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch21" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXI
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          To readers of a certain class of fiction it will no doubt seem strange
+          if I say that Walter&rsquo;s visit to the Holsma family influenced
+          greatly his spiritual development. Not immediately; but a seed had
+          been planted which was to grow later. He saw now that after all
+          independent thought was possible, even if he could not yet allow
+          himself that luxury. The mere knowledge that there were other opinions
+          in the world than those of his daily mentors was a long stride
+          forward.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was depressed on account of his lack of knowledge. Those children
+          knew so much more than he did; and this made him sad.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          They had spoken of someone who was startled to find footprints. Who
+          was it? The child had never heard of Defoe&rsquo;s hermit. He asked
+          Stoffel.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Footprints? Footprints? Well, you must tell me what footprints
+          you mean&mdash;whose footprints. You must give names when you ask
+          questions.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s right,&rdquo; said the mother, &ldquo;when you
+          want to know anything you must mention names. And Mevrouw made the
+          salad herself? Well, that&rsquo;s strange. The girl must have been out
+          somewhere.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As to other &ldquo;strange&rdquo; things, which were not likely to
+          meet the approbation of his family, Walter was silent. Not a word
+          about that Saturnalia, or the omission of grace at a &ldquo;warm meal&rdquo;!
+          Nor did he mention the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb171"
+          href="#pb171">171</a>]</span>liberties that were allowed the children,
+          or the freedom with which they joined in the conversation. Perhaps it
+          was a superfluous precaution. That bearskin would have been excused
+          for many shortcomings.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse asked repeatedly if he had been &ldquo;respectable.&rdquo;
+          Walter said he had, but without knowing exactly what she meant. That
+          affair with the spoon&mdash;had it been respectable? He didn&rsquo;t
+          care to have this question decided&mdash;at least by his mother. But
+          it was nice of Sietske; and wouldn&rsquo;t he have done the same?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He learned that the day was approaching when he must return to school.
+          More than ever he felt that this source of knowledge was insufficient
+          for him; but opposition was not to be thought of. He was dissatisfied
+          with himself, with everything.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I shall never amount to anything,&rdquo; he sighed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His Lady Macbeth seemed uglier to him than ever. He tore her up. And
+          Ophelia?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Goodness! He hadn&rsquo;t thought of Femke the whole day. Was it
+          because she was only a wash-girl, while the doctor&rsquo;s children
+          were so aristocratic? Walter censured himself.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He took advantage of the first opportunity to pay his debt in that
+          quarter. For he felt that it was a debt; and this consciousness gave
+          him courage. Picture in hand, he passed the familiar fence this time
+          and knocked boldly on the door. His heart was thumping terribly; but
+          he must do it! In a moment he stood before Femke. The lady of his
+          heart was quietly darning stockings. It is hard on the writer; but
+          this little detail was a matter of indifference to Walter. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb172" href="#pb172">172</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; she cried, extending her hand. &ldquo;Mother, this
+          is the young gentleman we saw that time&mdash;the little boy who was
+          so sick. And how are you now? You look pale.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Take a seat, little boy,&rdquo; said the mother. &ldquo;Yes,
+          you do look pale. Worms, of course.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, mother. The child has had nervous fever.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All right&mdash;fever, then; but it could be from worms. Give
+          him a cup, Femke. It won&rsquo;t hurt you to drink coffee; but if it
+          were worms&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mrs. Claus&rsquo;s worms were more in Walter&rsquo;s way than the
+          stockings.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where does your mother have her washing done?&rdquo; she asked.
+          &ldquo;Not that I want to pump you&mdash;not at all. But if she isn&rsquo;t
+          satisfied with her wash-woman&mdash;it sometimes happens, you
+          understand. Everybody must look out for himself; and I just thought I&rsquo;d
+          mention it. Whenever there are any ink-spots Femke takes them out with
+          oxalic acid; and it never makes any holes&mdash;yes, it did happen
+          once, and we had to pay for a pair of cuffs. You can ask Femke.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The fact was, he wanted to ask Femke something else; and she knew it.
+          The story of Aztalpa had left its marks on her mind. But she was
+          hampered very much like Walter was at home. She couldn&rsquo;t say,
+          &ldquo;Mother, speak a bit more Peruvian!&rdquo; So she simply asked
+          what the roll was that he had in his hand.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was confused, but he managed to stammer that it was a present
+          for her. Femke said she would always take good care of the picture.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the mother, &ldquo;and you must iron out <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb173" href="#pb173">173</a>]</span>those
+          creases. We iron, too, little boy, and we deliver the clothes ready to
+          put on. Nobody can complain. You can tell your mother. And your collar&mdash;it
+          isn&rsquo;t ironed nicely&mdash;and such bluing! Ask Femke. Femke, isn&rsquo;t
+          the blue in stripes?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His collar not ironed nicely? and blued in stripes? And the infallible
+          Pietro had laundered it! Even here, were there differences in method
+          and conception? And in this respect, too, was the Pieterse tradition
+          not the only one that brought happiness?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke was on nettles. She studied Ophelia, wondering who she was, and
+          tried to turn the conversation. At last something occurred to her. It
+          was necessary for her to run some errand or other, and &ldquo;the
+          young gentleman&rdquo; could &ldquo;accompany&rdquo; her a part of the
+          way.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;As far as I&rsquo;m concerned,&rdquo; said the mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The young couple retired, taking one of those ways which in the
+          neighborhood of Amsterdam are simply called &ldquo;the ways.&rdquo;
+          That is all they are. Whoever walks there for pleasure must take a
+          good stock of impressions with him, in order to escape tedium.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Walter and Femke were not lacking in this respect. Walter had so
+          much to tell Femke that he could scarcely hope to get through; and
+          she, too, had thought of him more than she was willing to admit, and
+          more than he had any idea of. She began by saying that she hadn&rsquo;t
+          told her mother of her unfriendly reception by Walter&rsquo;s mother
+          and sisters, because she didn&rsquo;t want her mother&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, Femke&mdash;and you thought I would come?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; said Femke, hesitating, but still with a <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb174" href="#pb174">174</a>]</span>readiness
+          that delighted Walter. &ldquo;Yes, of course I expected to see you
+          again. And I had a mass said for your recovery.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Really?&rdquo; said Walter, who hardly knew what it meant.
+          &ldquo;You did that for me?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and I prayed, too. I should have been sad if you had died.
+          For I believe you are a good boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I ought to have come sooner; and I wanted to, but&mdash;Femke,
+          I was afraid.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He related to her how he had been near her on Sunday. The girl
+          attributed his timidity to his diffidence toward her mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My mother is a good woman. She wouldn&rsquo;t hurt anybody, but&mdash;you
+          understand. She doesn&rsquo;t mix with people much. I understand the
+          world better, because, you see, I was a nurse for three weeks. I was
+          only substituting; I was too young to be a real nurse. It was at a
+          relation&rsquo;s of ours, where the girl was sick. You know we really
+          come of a good family. But that makes no difference. Tell me, are you
+          well and strong again?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter told her now all about his sickness, and soon he came
+          involuntarily to the thing that gave him most trouble, his defective
+          knowledge.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All the children know French; but at our school it isn&rsquo;t
+          taught. It&rsquo;s impossible to be a great man without knowing
+          French.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had difficulty in explaining to her that he meant something
+          other than the possession of three houses, though that might not be
+          bad.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I should like&mdash;you understand? I should like&mdash;yes&mdash;I
+          should like&mdash;how shall I explain?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb175" href="#pb175">175</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The sovereignty of Africa was on the end of his tongue; but he didn&rsquo;t
+          have the courage to put his dreams into words.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You know, Femke, that we live here in Europe. Now, down there
+          in the south, far away&mdash;I will draw it for you. We can sit down
+          here and I will show you exactly what I mean.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He selected some small sticks suitable for making outlines on the
+          ground, then he and Femke sat down on a low pile of boards. He
+          proceeded to scratch up the sand for some distance around.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That is Europe. The earth is round; that is, it consists of two
+          halves, like a doughnut. You see, it looks like a pair of spectacles.
+          With that half we are not concerned. That&rsquo;s America. You can put
+          your feet on it if you want to. Here is where we live; there is
+          England; and here is Africa. The people there are uncivilized. They
+          can&rsquo;t read, and they don&rsquo;t wear many clothes. But when a
+          traveler comes along they are very nice to him&mdash;the book says so.
+          I&rsquo;m going down there and teach all the people to read and give
+          them clothes and see to it that there is no injustice done in the
+          whole land. And then we will&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I, too?&rdquo; asked Femke in amazement.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, certainly! I wanted to ask you if you were willing to go
+          with me. We will be man and wife, you understand; so when I get to be
+          king you will be&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I? Queen?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She laughed. Involuntarily she rose and trampled to pieces all the
+          kingdoms that Walter had just laid at her feet.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But&mdash;won&rsquo;t you be my wife?&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb176" href="#pb176">176</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, you boy! How did you get such nonsense into your head? You
+          are still a child!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Will you wait then till I&rsquo;m grown up? Will you let me be
+          your friend?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly! Only you mustn&rsquo;t think of that nonsense&mdash;not
+          that you may not go to Africa later. Why not? Many people go on
+          journeys. Formerly there lived a carpenter near us, and he went to the
+          Haarlem with his whole family. But&mdash;marrying!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She laughed again. It pained Walter. The poor boy&rsquo;s first
+          proposal was turning out badly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Suddenly Femke became serious.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I know that you are a good boy; and I think a great deal of
+          you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And I!&rdquo; cried Walter. &ldquo;Femke, I have thought of you
+          all the time&mdash;when I was sick&mdash;in my fever&mdash;I don&rsquo;t
+          know what I thought of in my fever, but I think it must have been you.
+          And I talked to the picture I painted for you as if it were you; and
+          that picture answered like you and looked like you. I was Kusco and
+          Telasco, and you were Aztalpa, the daughter of the sun. Tell me,
+          Femke, may I be your friend?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl reflected a moment; and in her pure, innocent heart she felt
+          the desire to do good. Was that seventeen-year-old girl conscious of
+          the influence that Walter&rsquo;s childish soul exerted upon her?
+          Scarcely. But she wanted to give him a less cruel answer.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, certainly you shall be my friend. But&mdash;but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She was hunting for some excuse that would not hurt him, and still let
+          him see the difference in their ages. He had grown during his illness,
+          to be sure, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb177" href="#pb177">177</a>]</span>but
+          still&mdash;she could have carried him on her arm. And he had dreamed
+          of rescuing her from a fire!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My friend, yes. But then you must do everything that I require.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Everything, everything! Tell me quick what I can do for you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was painful for the girl. She didn&rsquo;t know what she should
+          require; but she was under the necessity of naming something. She had
+          always heard that it was good for children to study hard. What if she
+          should spur him on to do that?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Listen, Walter. Just for fun I told my mother that you were the
+          best in school.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I?&rdquo; cried Walter abashed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Study hard and be the first in school inside the next three
+          months,&rdquo; said Femke to the conqueror of continents, unaware of
+          the sarcasm that lay in her words. &ldquo;Otherwise, you see, my
+          mother might think I had made fun of you; and I don&rsquo;t want that
+          to happen. If you will only do that&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will do it, Femke!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then you must go home and begin at once.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus she sent him away. As she told him &ldquo;Good-bye&rdquo; she
+          noticed all at once that he was too large for her to kiss. A few hours
+          later, when Father Jansen was calling on her mother and incidentally
+          saw Walter&rsquo;s painting, Walter suddenly became a child again. The
+          priest had said that in Dutch Ophelia meant Flora, who was the
+          patron-saint of roses and forget-me-nots.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, that picture is from a little boy, a very small boy. He&rsquo;s
+          about ten years old&mdash;or nine. He&rsquo;s certainly not older than
+          nine!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb178" href="#pb178">178</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Girl, you are foolish!&rdquo; cried the mother. &ldquo;The boy
+          is fifteen.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, that may be&mdash;but I just meant that he&rsquo;s still
+          only a child.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She stuck Ophelia away in some hidden nook, and Mrs. Claus and Father
+          Jansen never saw that new edition of the old flower-goddess again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke, I will do it!&rdquo; Walter had said.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was really reason to believe that he would learn faster now; but
+          Pennewip&rsquo;s instruction would wear Femke&rsquo;s colors. Walter
+          knew very well that in requiring this service she had had his own
+          welfare in view; but this showed her interest in him, and was not so
+          bad. How would it have looked, he thought, if, after all that had gone
+          before, he had answered: &ldquo;Everything except that!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Of course he would have greatly preferred to serve his lady on some
+          journey full of adventure. But one cannot select for one&rsquo;s self
+          heroic deeds. In these days Hercules and St. George would have to put
+          up with <span class="corr" id="xd0e3980" title="Source: minature">
+          miniature</span> dragons.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At all events, Walter took hold of his work in earnest. He studied his
+          &ldquo;Ippel,&rdquo; his &ldquo;Strabbe,&rdquo; his &ldquo;National
+          History&rdquo; and even the &ldquo;Gender of Nouns,&rdquo; and
+          everything else necessary to the education of a good Netherlander.
+          Poetry was included; and Walter&rsquo;s accomplishments along this
+          line were such that other &ldquo;Herculeses&rdquo; might have envied
+          him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He had never read the stories of tournaments. No enchantress gave him
+          a charmed coat of mail; no Minerva put the head of Medusa on his
+          shield&mdash;no, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb179" href="#pb179">179</a>]</span>nothing
+          of all that. But&mdash;Keesje, the butcher&rsquo;s boy, might look
+          sharp for his laurels!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In justice to Walter it must be said that he gave his opponent fair
+          warning, in true knightly style.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At the end of three months Walter was actually the first in his
+          classes. Pennewip was compelled to take notice of it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It is strange,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;I might say that it
+          is remarkable. Yes, in a way, it is unprecedented&mdash;without a
+          parallel!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At home the result was that a great council was held regarding Walter&rsquo;s
+          future. He didn&rsquo;t want to become a compositor; and to be a
+          sailor&mdash;that would have suited him, but his mother was opposed to
+          it. Stoffel, too, objected on the ground that usually only young
+          people who are worthless on land are sent to sea.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus Walter&rsquo;s plans for conquest were slipping away from him. He
+          was not attracted by the brilliant careers that were proposed: They
+          left Africa out of account. He didn&rsquo;t want to be a
+          school-teacher, or a shoemaker, or a clerk, or a counter-jumper.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          However, after all authorities had been heard, Stoffel came to the
+          conclusion that Walter was peculiarly well fitted for &ldquo;business.&rdquo;
+          Juffrouw Pieterse agreed with him thoroughly. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb180" href="#pb180">180</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch22" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A responsible business firm wants a young man (Dt. Ref.) of
+          good family. He must be moral, well-behaved and not under fifteen
+          years old. Prospect of salary if diligent and reliable. Good treatment
+          guaranteed. Address written applications in own handwriting to &lsquo;Business,&rsquo;
+          care E. Maaskamp&rsquo;s book and art store, Nieuwendyk, Amsterdam.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The writer cannot recall what sort of art publications E. Maaskamp was
+          dealing in just at that time, and will not make any guesses, for fear
+          of getting the reader into chronological difficulties. If it should
+          become necessary in writing Walter&rsquo;s history, the writer would
+          have no compunctions of conscience in putting the republic after
+          Louis, or William I. before the republic.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And as for that &ldquo;Dt. Ref.&rdquo;&mdash;Dutch Reform&mdash;in the
+          advertisement&mdash;that gives the writer no trouble. He knows very
+          well that &ldquo;Dt. Ref.&rdquo; as a necessary qualification for
+          servants, apprentices, etc., was introduced after E. Maaskamp&rsquo;s
+          pictures had been forgotten. Nevertheless, it must be insisted upon
+          that the aforesaid abbreviation was in the advertisement which was now
+          occupying the undivided attention of the Pieterses. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb181" href="#pb181">181</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There couldn&rsquo;t be anything more fortunate,&rdquo; said
+          the mother. &ldquo;What do you think, Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother, it couldn&rsquo;t be better.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What pleases me especially is the &lsquo;well-behaved.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Moral and well-behaved, mother.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, moral and well-behaved&mdash;do you hear, Walter? Just as
+          I have always said. And &lsquo;prospect of salary.&rsquo; What do you
+          think of that, Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother; but&mdash;he must be &lsquo;diligent and reliable.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Walter, you must be diligent and reliable. Haven&rsquo;t I
+          always told you that? And they require &lsquo;Dt. Ref.&rsquo;; but you
+          are that, thank God.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother, he&rsquo;s that all right.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Stoffel, don&rsquo;t you think you&rsquo;d better write the
+          letter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But it says &lsquo;in own handwriting.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s so! But if you write the letter in your own
+          handwriting&mdash;that will be better than for such a child to write
+          it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel had some difficulty in making it plain to his mother that
+          &ldquo;own handwriting&rdquo; meant Walter&rsquo;s own handwriting;
+          but she finally saw the point, and Walter was given a seat at the
+          table.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well? What must I write at the top?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Now, have you forgotten that again? Such a simple thing? Have
+          you got down the date? Then write &lsquo;Gentlemen,&rsquo; in business
+          style. It says, &lsquo;responsible business firm.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the mother, &ldquo;and add that your father
+          had a business, too. We sold shoes from Paris. Otherwise they will
+          think we&rsquo;re only shoemakers.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb182" href="#pb182">182</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And write that you are the first in school.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And that you belong to the Dutch Reform Church.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And that you are moral and well-behaved.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And that you are diligent and reliable. Don&rsquo;t you see,
+          you may get a salary then right away.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At last the letter was ready. It only remained to stamp it and post
+          it. But why couldn&rsquo;t the young applicant deliver the letter in
+          person and save the postage? Stoffel thought there would be no
+          impropriety in such a course. Even a responsible business firm ought
+          to overlook such a detail.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With a heavy heart Walter started out on his important errand. He was
+          entering the real world, and was about to become a worshiper of the
+          great god of &ldquo;business.&rdquo; He was depressed by his lack of
+          confidence, and felt that it was unbecoming in himself to make
+          application to a &ldquo;responsible business firm.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If he met a man that looked well-to-do, he would ask himself if the
+          gentleman was a &ldquo;business man,&rdquo; and belonged to a &ldquo;responsible
+          business firm.&rdquo; This last high-sounding expression embodied
+          mysteries which he did not attempt to understand. He would learn it
+          all later.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter stammered an excuse to the young fellow in the shop for not
+          having sent his letter by post. The fellow didn&rsquo;t understand
+          him, but threw the letter carelessly into a box containing a few dozen
+          others that were awaiting the favorable consideration of Messrs.
+          Motto, Business &amp; Co.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The fellow was busy with some Turkish battles in glaring colors, and
+          declined to enter into any conversation <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb183" href="#pb183">183</a>]</span>with our hero. Walter&rsquo;s
+          mouth watered for a bright picture of Grecian chivalry. But what good
+          did it do? He had no money; and, besides, he was out for business, not
+          for heroic deeds.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Later!&rdquo; he thought.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Arrived at home he received the usual scolding. His mother maintained
+          that he had certainly not entered the shop in a &ldquo;respectable&rdquo;
+          manner; otherwise the young gentleman would have given him a
+          friendlier reception. She was afraid that those excellent gentlemen,
+          Motto, Business &amp; Co., would take this into consideration to his
+          detriment.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you say there were already a whole lot of letters there?
+          You see, Stoffel&mdash;if he only isn&rsquo;t too late! That&rsquo;s
+          the way&mdash;those people would break their necks or be first. And
+          who knows but what some of them are Roman Catholics? I wonder if they
+          all think they&rsquo;re moral and well-behaved. You can just see what
+          kind of people there are in the world!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had to go back to Maaskamp&rsquo;s and get the address of the
+          firm in question. The idea was for him to call on the firm in person
+          and thus get ahead of everybody else. Juffrouw Pieterse wanted to bet
+          her ears that not a one of the other applicants could boast of a
+          father who had sold Parisian shoes.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Tell them that! Your father never took a stitch in his life. He
+          didn&rsquo;t even know how to. It&rsquo;s only to prove that we had a
+          business, too. He never had an awl in his hand&mdash;isn&rsquo;t it
+          so, Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Those eminently respectable gentlemen, Motto, Business &amp; Co.,
+          lived&mdash;I don&rsquo;t know where they lived; but they had founded
+          on the Zeedyk a cigar store and <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb184"
+          href="#pb184">184</a>]</span>a circulating library. It was probably
+          not far from the place where six or eight centuries earlier a few
+          fishermen had founded the greatest commercial city of Europe.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter found one of those worthy gentlemen behind the counter. He was
+          in his shirt-sleeves, and was engaged in weighing out some snuff for
+          an old woman. &ldquo;Business&rdquo; was evidently being carried on.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As Walter had formed no conception of &ldquo;responsible business
+          firm,&rdquo; he was far from thinking that the gentlemen had claimed
+          too much for themselves. With his peculiar timidity he even reproached
+          himself for not having understood the conception &ldquo;business&rdquo;
+          before.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Now he understood it. Business meant to stand behind a counter, in
+          shirt-sleeves, and weigh snuff. And, too, on the Zeedyk.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The cigar store occupied only half the width of the house, and was
+          connected with the circulating library by a side door. Motto, Business
+          &amp; Co. were simultaneously cultivating two industries: those who
+          didn&rsquo;t care for snuff or tobacco could get something to read,
+          and vice versa.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Over the shelves, on the tobacco side, were posted signs bearing the
+          assurance that something was &ldquo;manufactured&rdquo; here.
+          Differing entirely from the Pieterses, these gentlemen seemed to think
+          that to make a thing meant more than merely to sell it. We leave the
+          question undecided.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Was it true that this business firm manufactured anything? The only
+          thing they manufactured was the paper bags that were to be pasted
+          together by the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb185" href="#pb185">185</a>]</span>moral,
+          well-behaved, diligent and reliable young man who was a member of the
+          Dutch Reform Church.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The amount of business done was small, the profits barely paying the
+          rent. The wicked world on the Zeedyk even said that the two blue
+          porcelain vases bearing in old-fashioned letters the inscriptions
+          &ldquo;Rappee&rdquo; and &ldquo;Zinking,&rdquo; had been borrowed from
+          a second-hand dealer in the neighborhood, and that the good man came
+          by every day to look after his property.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The shop was small, and was closed off in the rear by a green curtain,
+          which was calculated to make customers think there was something more
+          beyond. To be exact, there <i>was</i> something beyond that curtain.
+          There hung a dilapidated mirror, consoling with a lonely chair, which
+          was now ornamented by the coat of the worthy senior partner; and
+          leaning against the wall was a half-round table, on which a
+          pomatum-pot was making fun of a comb because for years it had been
+          expecting to grow new teeth. Business was not so exacting but that Mr.
+          Motto could devote a little spare time to the improvement of his
+          personal beauty. He had succeeded in developing two beautiful bunches
+          of hair on the sides of his face. They cost him much pains and grease;
+          but they were the delight of all the ladies who entered the shop.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And so you want to go into business, do you?&rdquo; asked Mr.
+          Motto, after he had given the old woman a &ldquo;pinch&rdquo; from the
+          jar. &ldquo;What all have you studied? Reading, writing, arithmetic,
+          French? Eh? And what are your parents.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;They dealt in shoes&mdash;from Paris, M&rsquo;neer. But I <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb186" href="#pb186">186</a>]</span>don&rsquo;t
+          know French. Arithmetic&mdash;yes. Went through Strabbe.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you know arithmetic, do you? How much then is a Pietje and
+          a half?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter stammered that he didn&rsquo;t know. Does the reader know?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But you must know that if you expect to calculate. And you don&rsquo;t
+          know what a Pietje is? Do you know the difference between a sesthalf
+          and a shilling? And between a dollar and a twenty-eight piece? Look&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mr. Motto pulled out the cash-drawer and seemed to be hunting for a
+          dollar; but for some reason or other he decided to make out with a
+          sesthalf. This he laid on the counter and asked Walter to imagine a
+          shilling lying beside it. He then proceeded to test Walter&rsquo;s
+          knowledge of business by asking him to point out the differences
+          between the two coins. Mr. Motto claimed that in business one must
+          know these details thoroughly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And Mr. Motto was right about it. At that time there were more
+          different kinds of money in the Netherlands than there are in Germany
+          now. To be able to distinguish the various coins readily and make
+          change accurately a regular course of study was necessary. Just as a
+          law was about to be passed to confer the title, &ldquo;Doctor of
+          Numismatics,&rdquo; on examination, the secretary of the treasury
+          discovered that all this trouble could be spared by simplifying the
+          money. He became very unpopular after this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In Walter&rsquo;s time, though, such a reform had not been thought of.
+          The florin had twenty stivers; the regular Holland dollar had fifty
+          stivers, the Zeeland <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb187" href="#pb187">187</a>]</span>dollar
+          had forty-two. The dollar was worth a florin and a half, and the gold
+          florin was called a &ldquo;twenty-eight,&rdquo; because it contained
+          twenty-eight stivers. The coins were well-worn and seldom exhibited
+          any traces of inscriptions, milling, etc. Matters were further
+          complicated by three-florin pieces and ducats of sixty-three stivers,
+          not to mention any other coins.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For Walter the money question was a serious one.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you don&rsquo;t know French, either?&rdquo; in a tone that
+          was scarcely encouraging.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; mournfully.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And would your parents put up cash security for you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter didn&rsquo;t understand the question.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Caution. Don&rsquo;t you understand? Security! There&rsquo;s
+          lots of money handled, and I must know who I&rsquo;m turning the shop
+          over to. And&mdash;do you know Danish?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mr. Motto did not always speak grammatically.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No&mdash;M&rsquo;neer.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What! Nor Danish, either? But Danish sailors come in here to
+          buy tobacco, and then you need to speak Danish. In a business like
+          this here you must know all languages. That&rsquo;s the main thing&mdash;otherwise
+          your cake&rsquo;s dough! I&rsquo;ve even had Greeks to come in here.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s heart gave a jump. What heroic deeds might they not do
+          on such occasions!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Greeks; but they were drunk and wanted a smoke for
+          nothing. We don&rsquo;t do it that way. The main thing is to look out
+          for the little things. Otherwise your cake&rsquo;s dough, you
+          understand. Yes, in <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb188" href="#pb188">188</a>]</span>business
+          you must know all languages, otherwise you can&rsquo;t talk to the
+          customers. That&rsquo;s the main thing. But that will be all right if
+          your parents can deposit a caution. Sometimes there are at least ten
+          florins in the cash-drawer, you know; and in business a man must have
+          security. That&rsquo;s the main thing. Otherwise your cake&rsquo;s
+          dough; you can see that for yourself.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My father is dead,&rdquo; said Walter, as if that fact rendered
+          the cash security unnecessary. He didn&rsquo;t know anything else to
+          say.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That so? Dead! Yes, it often happens. Dead? All right! But
+          haven&rsquo;t you a mother who can pay for you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&mdash;will&mdash;ask&mdash;her,&rdquo; Walter stammered.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly. Ask her right away; for you know in business things
+          are done in a hurry. Said, done! That&rsquo;s the main thing.
+          Otherwise your cake&rsquo;s dough. Here is another shop, and you will
+          have work to do in there, too&mdash;if your mother can put up the
+          money. That&rsquo;s the main thing.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mr. Motto conducted Walter into the circulating library. On three
+          sides of the room were bookcases reaching to the rather low ceiling.
+          For the rest, the place was provided with a ladder to be used in
+          gathering such fruits of literature as hung out of reach. And then
+          there was a big, thick book, in which the diligent and reliable young
+          man of Protestant faith was to enroll the names of the people who paid
+          a dubbeltje a week for a book. It&rsquo;s cheaper now.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You see,&rdquo; said Mr. Motto, &ldquo;that is the book, so to
+          say the great book. You understand bookkeeping, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb189" href="#pb189">189</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Unfortunately Walter had to admit that he had not yet studied that
+          branch.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Nor bookkeeping, either? Boy! that&rsquo;s the main thing in
+          business. If a man can&rsquo;t do that his cake&rsquo;s dough. It&rsquo;s
+          very simple. You write down who takes out a book, with the day and
+          date and street and number. And when they bring the book back you
+          drawn a line through it; and you&rsquo;ve got a pretty kettle of fish
+          if you don&rsquo;t do it. When you don&rsquo;t know the people you
+          must&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ask for a deposit!&rdquo; cried Walter quickly, rejoiced that
+          he knew something. It&rsquo;s doubtful if he knew what he was to draw
+          the line through.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, a deposit. A florin a week for a volume. Then, you
+          understand, when a volume&rsquo;s gone, the cake&rsquo;s dough with
+          that volume. Later I will explain to you everything about the cigars
+          and tobacco; but first I must know whether your mother&mdash;ask her
+          right away! And now I&rsquo;ve explained everything to you at least
+          half a dozen times. For there&rsquo;s no lack of boys that want to go
+          into business; but when it comes to Moses and the Prophets&mdash;then
+          they set the bow-sails. And that&rsquo;s the main thing. Otherwise you
+          look a little delicate, but I must know first if your mother can
+          deposit a caution. <i>Adieu!</i>&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter went home in a peculiar frame of mind. At first the family did
+          not think favorably of that &ldquo;cash security.&rdquo; Stoffel,
+          however, had often heard of such things, and negotiations were opened
+          with the said firm. It was finally agreed that a deposit of one
+          hundred florins should be made, for which the firm agreed to pay 3&frac12;%
+          interest. <span class="corr" id="xd0e4168" title="Source: Juffrow">
+          Juffrouw</span> Pieterse was <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb190"
+          href="#pb190">190</a>]</span>not quite satisfied with this, as she was
+          accustomed to getting 4%; but &ldquo;one must do something for one&rsquo;s
+          children.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel, who represented the Pieterses in these negotiations, was
+          surprised that he never got to see more than the first half of the
+          firm&mdash;or, better, the first third. He even took the liberty of
+          remarking on the peculiar circumstance, when he learned that the
+          &ldquo;Co.&rdquo; was merely ornamental, while &ldquo;Business&rdquo;
+          existed only in Mr. Motto&rsquo;s imagination. In fact that handsome
+          and worthy gentleman alone constituted the &ldquo;responsible business
+          firm,&rdquo; and like an Atlas carried on his broad shoulders all the
+          responsibilities incident to such a complicated and extensive
+          undertaking. It was quite natural that he should desire to put a part
+          of the burden on the back of some diligent, reliable Protestant boy,
+          who could furnish cash security. For that was &ldquo;the main thing.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On the library side Walter developed a diligence against which only
+          one thing could be urged: it was prejudicial to the tobacco industry
+          adjoining. If he had smoked as much as he read, he would have made
+          himself sick; and even his reading wasn&rsquo;t the best thing in the
+          world for his health.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He devoured everything indiscriminately&mdash;whether ripe or green.
+          Most of that literary fruit was green. In a short time he was able to
+          foretell the fate of the hero with a certainty that would have piqued
+          the author. The cleverest literary craftsman couldn&rsquo;t let the
+          poor orphan boy be as poor as a church mouse for ten pages, but that
+          Walter would see the flashing of the stars and knightly crucifixes
+          with which he was <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb191" href="#pb191">191</a>]</span>to
+          be decked out on the last page. One might think this would cause him
+          to lose interest in the book; but, no! He was constant to the end&mdash;to
+          the official triumph. For him it would have been a sin to call to the
+          Saxons and Normans a second too soon: &ldquo;See if Ivanhoe isn&rsquo;t
+          going to smash that big-mouthed Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert!&rdquo; And
+          all the time he felt as if he were&mdash;Ivanhoe? No, as if he were
+          the deity, who must give the hero strength to overcome that infamous
+          scoundrel, Brian de Bois-Guilbert.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then all at once the door-bell would ring, and the magnanimous Walter
+          would have to occupy himself with things less chivalrous.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The only thing he could do in such moments was to weigh accurately,
+          and not give anybody a cigar from the &ldquo;tens&rdquo; instead of
+          from the &ldquo;eights.&rdquo; Such conscienciousness, however, was
+          futile, for in the cigar-boxes were cigars that ought to have been
+          called &ldquo;twenties.&rdquo; Mr. Motto said that the customers were
+          usually drunk, and that it was all right to give them cabbage leaves
+          to smoke. &ldquo;You must size up your customer. That&rsquo;s the main
+          thing.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This was something Walter never could learn. With him, ten was ten,
+          eight eight&mdash;no matter who the customer was. To take an unfair
+          advantage, or tell a lie never occurred to him. From fear or
+          embarrassment he might possibly tell an untruth; but if he had been
+          asked a second time&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As strange as it may seem, this aversion to lying and deception was
+          nourished by the books he read. The brave knight fought till he was
+          victorious, or dead. Only the fatally wounded surrendered. All <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb192" href="#pb192">192</a>]</span>this had
+          Walter&rsquo;s hearty endorsement: He would not have acted
+          differently. The beautiful heroine was loved by everybody; and the
+          rejected suitors died of despair, or joined some desperate band. All
+          quite proper. The good remained steadfast, in spite of the Devil and
+          all his machinations&mdash;yes, in spite of tedium. Once selected by
+          the author to be a high-toned, moral hero&mdash;then spotless
+          garments! Walter wondered if such a one could have a pain in the
+          stomach, or suffer other inconvenience. Certainly not in books!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He did not know that such perfection was humbug. He was satisfied when
+          the characters in such novels did what was required of them by the
+          author. The villains were always betraying somebody; the heroes killed
+          everything that got in their way; and the beautiful virgins charmed
+          everybody. Even God, the God of romance, did his duty much better than&mdash;but
+          that&rsquo;s another detail.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yesterday on the Zeedyk a big boy had beaten a little fellow. That
+          ought to happen in a book. How all the knights would have come
+          running! Walter, too, was going to&mdash;but how could he help it if
+          his employer called him back? &ldquo;What in the devil have you got to
+          do with that? Your work is here in the store. You attend to your own
+          business now, and don&rsquo;t mix yourself in other people&rsquo;s
+          brawls. That&rsquo;s the main thing!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As a rule of conduct, this was not just what Walter was used to in his
+          novels.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Despite such interruptions he continued his reading. He was almost
+          ready to begin on the last section of <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb193" href="#pb193">193</a>]</span>books, when he came to the
+          store one morning and found everything locked up and under seal.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The worthy Mr. Motto, it seems, had gone to America, as a sailor; and
+          doubtless that was the &ldquo;main thing.&rdquo; The unfortunate owner
+          of the two snuff-vases had a big law suit over them. The point was
+          whether they were a part of the assets, or not.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On the Zeedyk at Amsterdam such processes must be tried according to
+          Roman law; but as the Romans did not use snuff there is nothing said
+          about &ldquo;Rappee&rdquo; in the Roman laws. The writer doesn&rsquo;t
+          know how the matter finally turned out. It is to be hoped that
+          everybody got what was coming to him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse, however, did not recover her hundred florins; and,
+          as usual, she groaned: &ldquo;There&rsquo;s always trouble with this
+          boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter couldn&rsquo;t help her. He had his own troubles: he had been
+          cruelly interrupted in his reading. Of course the mysterious parentage
+          of the young robber was perfectly clear to him; but still one likes to
+          see whether one has guessed correctly, or not. <span class="pagenum">
+          [<a id="pb194" href="#pb194">194</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch23" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXIII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          <span class="corr" id="xd0e4214" title="Not in source"> &ldquo;</span>Do
+          you think stivers grow on my back?&rdquo; asked the mother the next
+          day. &ldquo;You still don&rsquo;t earn a doit! Do you have to buy
+          tobacco for old soldiers?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had nothing to say. Recently his mother had given him a
+          shilling to give to Holsma&rsquo;s maid. Walter neglected to do this,
+          and spent one stiver of the money on snuff for an old soldier.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mother continued her tirade, making use of the word &ldquo;prodigue,&rdquo;
+          prodigal.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother,&rdquo; said Stoffel, &ldquo;that isn&rsquo;t it. He&rsquo;s
+          behind in everything. He doesn&rsquo;t know yet how to handle money,
+          that&rsquo;s it!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes. He doesn&rsquo;t know how to handle money! All the other
+          children at his age&mdash;when they have a stiver they either save it
+          or buy themselves something. And he&mdash;what does he do? He goes and
+          gives it away! Boy, boy, will you never learn any sense?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was cut to the quick by the accusation of wastefulness and
+          prodigality. In his eyes a prodigal was somebody, a man! &ldquo;Prodigue,
+          prodigue,&rdquo; he murmured. He knew the word.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In one of the bedrooms hung a series of crude, highly colored pictures
+          illustrating the story of the prodigal son. The pictures were French;
+          and a study <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb195" href="#pb195">195</a>]</span>of
+          the titles convinced the family that &ldquo;prodigue&rdquo; could mean
+          nothing but prodigal in the worst sense, <i>i. e.</i>, &ldquo;lost.&rdquo;
+          Stoffel had maintained this proposition against one of his colleagues,
+          till that one drew a lexicon on him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After much argument it was decided to compromise on the &ldquo;mistake&rdquo;
+          in the French Bible by allowing &ldquo;prodigue&rdquo; to have
+          sometimes the meaning of &ldquo;extravagant.&rdquo; Those pictures had
+          afforded Walter much food for thought.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <i>First picture:</i> The &ldquo;lost&rdquo; or prodigal son tells his
+          father good-bye. The old gentleman wears a purple coat. Very pretty&mdash;but
+          the prodigal himself! A mantle floated about his shoulders&mdash;it
+          seemed to be windy in the colonnade. It was princely; and his turkish
+          trousers were of pure gold. At his side was a bent sabre, and on his
+          head a turban, with a stone in it&mdash;certainly onyx, or sardonox,
+          or a pearl, or a precious stone&mdash;or whatever it might be!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The old gentleman seemed to be out of humor; but no wonder&mdash;all
+          those loaded camels, and the slaves, and all the accessories for that
+          long, long journey! A negro, as black as pitch, was holding a horse by
+          the rein. Another negro was holding the stirrup, and seemed to say:
+          &ldquo;Off to the Devil; prodigal, get on!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          What boy wouldn&rsquo;t have been a prodigal son? The bent sabre alone
+          was worth the sin.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <i>Second picture:</i> Hm&mdash;hm. Wicked, wicked! Why, certainly;
+          but not for Walter, who in his innocence attached no importance to the
+          extravagant dresses of the &ldquo;Juffrouwen.&rdquo; It was sufficient
+          that all were eating and drinking bountifully, and that they <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb196" href="#pb196">196</a>]</span>were in
+          good <span class="corr" id="xd0e4250" title="Source: spirts"> spirits</span>
+          and enjoying themselves. How prettily one of the girls, in glossy
+          silk, was leaning over the shoulder of the &ldquo;lost&rdquo; one! How
+          much nicer to be lost than found!&mdash;anyway, that was the
+          impression the feast made on Walter. The true purpose of the picture&mdash;to
+          deter people from a life of dissoluteness&mdash;escaped Walter
+          entirely. Perhaps he knew what it meant; but in his heart he felt that
+          it meant something else. What attracted him most was not the food and
+          drink, under which the table &ldquo;groaned,&rdquo; nor the sinful
+          sensuality painted on the faces of the ladies. It was the freedom and
+          unconventionality of the company that charmed him. In order to
+          emphasize the idea of prodigality, the painter had allowed some big
+          dogs to upset an open cask of wine.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wine was streaming, and straying away as if it were the lost
+          sinner. This pleased Walter immensely. None of the guests seemed to
+          notice such a small trifle, not even the waiters. This ought to have
+          happened just once in the Pieterse home&mdash;and even if it were only
+          a stein of beer!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The artist says to himself, Do you suppose I didn&rsquo;t foresee the
+          seductive influence of such a picture? The next one makes it all
+          right!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Well, maybe so.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <i>Third picture:</i> Magnificent. How romantic this wilderness! Oh,
+          to sit there on that boulder and stare into the immeasurable depths of
+          the universe&mdash;alone!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To think, think, think!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No schoolmaster, no mother, brother, or anyone to <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb197" href="#pb197">197</a>]</span>say what he must do with his
+          heart, with his time, with his elbows, or with his breeches! That&rsquo;s
+          the way Walter saw it. The young man there didn&rsquo;t even have on
+          breeches; and he looked as if he wouldn&rsquo;t have been ashamed to
+          stretch himself out on his back, with his arms over his head, and
+          watch with wide-open eyes the passing of the moon and stars. Walter
+          asked himself what he would think of when he had founded such an
+          empire of solitude.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Hm! Femke could sit on the boulder with him. Prodigal son&mdash;oh,
+          sin divine with her! He was surprised that in the whole Bible there
+          was only one prodigal son. Of all sins this seemed to him the most
+          seductive.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And the desert was so&mdash;endurable. There were trees in it, which
+          one could climb, when one really got lost, or use to build a nice
+          little cabin&mdash;for Femke, of course.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The prodigal in the picture didn&rsquo;t seem to have thought of all
+          that. Why wasn&rsquo;t the Juffrouw in green silk with him? She will
+          come soon, Walter said to himself. Perhaps she&rsquo;s not quite
+          through with her prodigality. If she would only hurry up and come! He
+          longs for her. But that is the only annoyance that a genuine prodigal
+          takes with him from the profane world into that capital wilderness.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It must be remarked in passing, however, that the hogs with which that
+          picture was equipped looked ugly. The pious artist had made them
+          shield-bearers of sin, and had supplied their physiognomies with all
+          kinds of horrible features. And, too, the trough looked dirty. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb198" href="#pb198">198</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If it happens to me, said Walter, I&rsquo;ll take sheep with me; and
+          Femke can card the wool.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The artist ought to admit that even this third picture is inadequate
+          to inspire a proper disgust for prodigality.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And the fourth one? No better.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The old gentleman is excessively friendly. We are again in the
+          colonnade, where the camels have just waited so patiently. One of the
+          slaves clasps his hands and looks toward heaven&mdash;because he&rsquo;s
+          glad, of course, that little Walter has come back.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He? The real Walter? Returned home, and friendly received in his high
+          rank of a &ldquo;has-been&rdquo; and &ldquo;recovered&rdquo; prodigal?
+          Oh, no!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And that fatted calf! In direct opposition to the custom that was
+          familiar to Walter! It worried the boy. Juffrouw Pieterse never
+          slaughtered anything. She ran a weekly account with Keesje&rsquo;s
+          father; and even a roast was a rarity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was no prospect of a fatted calf, whether he became a prodigal
+          or not. But that didn&rsquo;t keep the rank of a prodigal from being
+          higher than that of a stupid boy who didn&rsquo;t know how to handle
+          money.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was encouraged to think that he was indebted to his friendly enemy,
+          Juffrouw Laps, for something. She always cited the Bible, and spoke
+          continually of feeding swine. Walter wanted to answer: &ldquo;That&rsquo;s
+          very nice, Juffrouw Laps, but can&rsquo;t it be sheep this time?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He knew very well that she had never had any passion for carding, and
+          consequently was not interested <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb199"
+          href="#pb199">199</a>]</span>in that blue muffler, which would be so
+          becoming to Femke&rsquo;s favorite sheep.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But she assured him that he was a prodigal; and that was enough.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I&rsquo;ve always said!&rdquo; replied
+          Juffrouw Pieterse. &ldquo;What does he do but squander his mother&rsquo;s
+          money? If that man wants snuff, let him buy it. The king pays him. I
+          have to work too hard for my money. Don&rsquo;t I, Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother; but it&rsquo;s only childishness in Walter!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Childishness! That&rsquo;s what I call it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No it isn&rsquo;t!&rdquo; cried the pious Laps. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s
+          on the straight road to the trough of Luke 15. He will eat husks! Do
+          you think the Master doesn&rsquo;t carry out his parables? Just send
+          him to me. The pastors are to blame for it. They don&rsquo;t explain
+          the Bible. Send him to me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If I only knew how he gets such things into his head!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know? It&rsquo;s arrogance!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She spoke the truth.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Arrogance, Arrogance pure and simple&mdash;just as it was in
+          Belshazzar, or Sennacherib, or Nebuchadnezzar.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How thankful Walter was! If at this moment he had had a letter to
+          write&mdash;preferably to Femke&mdash;he would have boasted of being
+          as wicked as three old kings put together.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Arrogance!&rdquo; repeated Juffrouw Laps. &ldquo;Gold on top,
+          iron in the middle, and feet of clay. The Master will overthrow him.
+          Send him to me.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb200"
+          href="#pb200">200</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This invitation to turn over the royal villain to her for religious
+          instruction was repeated so often that it was necessary to give her an
+          answer.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, dear Juffrouw, the boy don&rsquo;t want to. He&rsquo;s
+          stubborn; and what can one do with such a child?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter knew that his mother was not quite truthful; but, after his
+          former experience with his friendly enemy, he found it desirable to
+          keep quiet. When pressed, however, for an explanation he said:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The man wanted snuff, and nobody would give him any; so I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps knew enough. Walter was as good as her prisoner: she now
+          knew exactly how to take his fortifications, if they could be taken at
+          all.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If he doesn&rsquo;t want to come to me, don&rsquo;t compel him,&rdquo;
+          she said sweetly on leaving. &ldquo;To force him won&rsquo;t do any
+          good. Let him exercise his own pleasure. I&rsquo;m afraid you pick at
+          the child too much, anyway. What an awful fuss we&rsquo;ve made over a
+          stiver!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I say, too,&rdquo; replied the mother.
+          &ldquo;It looks as if we begrudged him the money! We could have spared
+          another stiver, and we wouldn&rsquo;t have missed it, would we,
+          Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother, but it&rsquo;s time for Walter&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Goodness, what a hullaballoo to raise about a few pinches of
+          snuff! The Master will repay it seven times seventy times. Whatever ye
+          have done to the least of my brothers&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With this consoling passage on her lips she took her leave of the
+          astonished family.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, it wasn&rsquo;t so easy to see through Juffrouw Laps! <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb201" href="#pb201">201</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch24" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXIV
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          In his efforts to reconcile the various conflicting authorities
+          contesting for supremacy in his soul, Walter threw himself into a
+          severe spell of blues. He was not conscious of the contrast between
+          the world of his high-flown fancy and the earthy environment of his
+          home-life. The sympathetic care which he should have received after
+          his illness had not fallen to his lot.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He felt dejected.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke!&rdquo; he thought; and he longed for her fresh healthy
+          face, for her pure, unselfish glance, for her friendly smile. The
+          Fancy that had led him away to the stars in search of his misty sister
+          had got lodged on that girl of the Amsterdam lowlands, Femke&mdash;with
+          her unpoetical length, breadth, thickness, and weight.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am going to see her,&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I will! And if
+          Mrs. Claus asks me about worms a dozen times, it&rsquo;s all the same
+          to me; I am going to see her!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter reached the house and knocked. &ldquo;Come in!&rdquo; someone
+          called. This was a little sudden, for it took some time to get hold of
+          the latch. But Walter did it. Perhaps he was thinking of Missolonghi.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Turks that he saw now were not revolting in appearance. They were
+          unarmed and did not murder a single baby. <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb202" href="#pb202">202</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But&mdash;Femke was not in the party.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mrs. Claus was at the wash-tub, while Father Jansen was quietly
+          smoking.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is that you, young man? Very nice! That&rsquo;s the young man
+          who gave Femke the picture, you remember, father?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The father nodded to him kindly and smoked away, without manifesting
+          any special Godliness.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Juffrouw, I wanted to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Very nice of you! Won&rsquo;t you have a slice of bread and
+          butter? And how is your mother? Is she better now? She was sick, wasn&rsquo;t
+          she? That&rsquo;s a good boy, father. Femke said so. Is your mother
+          better again? It was fever, wasn&rsquo;t it? or apoplexy&mdash;or what
+          was it then?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, no! Juffrouw.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You mustn&rsquo;t call me Juffrouw. I am only a wash-woman.
+          Everyone must stay in his own class, mustn&rsquo;t he, father? Well,
+          it&rsquo;s all the better; I thought she had been sick. It must have
+          been somebody else. One has so much to think of. Do you like cheese?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The good woman prepared a slice of bread and butter, with cheese. If
+          Trudie could have seen it, she would have fainted. In the &ldquo;citizen&rsquo;s
+          class,&rdquo; such and such a sub-class, according to Pennewip, is
+          found a certain scantiness that does not obtain in the common laboring
+          class. In the matter of eating, laborers, who do not invest their
+          money in Geneva, are not troubled so much by &ldquo;good form&rdquo;
+          as people who give their children French names.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had never seen such a slice of bread. He didn&rsquo;t know
+          whether he ought to bite through the <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb203" href="#pb203">203</a>]</span>width, or the thickness. The
+          bit of cheese gave him his cue.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He liked Mrs. Claus much better this time. And Father Jansen, too;
+          even if he wasn&rsquo;t like Walter had imagined him to be.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He had never conceived a preacher as being anything else but a very
+          supernatural and spiritual and celestial sort of person. Father Jansen
+          didn&rsquo;t seem to be that kind of a man at all.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He visited the sheep of his fold, especially the plain people, not to
+          make a display of beneficence&mdash;for he had nothing, but because he
+          was happiest among simple people. He was fond of bread and butter of
+          the Mrs. Claus variety. For the rest, he said mass, preached about
+          sin, catechised, confirmed, absolved, and did whatever needed to be
+          done. He performed the functions of his office, and did not think it
+          at all strange that he should have gone into the church, while his
+          brother in Nordbrabant succeeded to the business of his father, who
+          was a farrier and inn-keeper.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And what are you going to be?&rdquo; he asked Walter; &ldquo;for
+          everybody in the world must be something. Wouldn&rsquo;t you like to
+          be a bookbinder? That&rsquo;s a good trade.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I was&mdash;I was in business, M&rsquo;neer; and I&rsquo;m
+          going back to business.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s good, my boy. You may get rich. Especially here in
+          Amsterdam; for Amsterdam is a commercial city.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter wanted to add: &ldquo;The greatest commercial city of Europe.&rdquo;
+          But he was abashed by the&mdash;worldliness <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb204" href="#pb204">204</a>]</span>of Father Jansen&rsquo;s talk.
+          He didn&rsquo;t find it disagreeable: he was merely surprised at it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A boy like you ought to eat a lot. You look pale. My brother
+          can bend a horseshoe. What do you say to that? Have you ever eaten our
+          Brabant bread? Ham isn&rsquo;t bad, either. A person that doesn&rsquo;t
+          eat enough gets weak. I always eat two slices of bread and butter
+          whenever I&rsquo;m here at Mrs. Claus&rsquo;s; but I&rsquo;m not
+          nearly so strong as my brother. You ought to see the Vucht fair. That&rsquo;s
+          a great time.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was more than surprised to hear such talk from a preacher: he
+          was almost pleased. He had never received such charming messages from
+          heaven. Of course they came from heaven, those friendly words uttered
+          in Brabant dialect between the puffs of Father Jansen&rsquo;s pipe.
+          This man in a priest&rsquo;s coat chattered away as if there were no
+          such thing in the world as God, Grace, and Hell&mdash;especially the
+          latter. He was as happy as a child in telling about the strength of
+          his brother, the horseshoer. It was his business to lead the world to
+          eternal happiness; and he liked thick slices of bread and butter with
+          cheese.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had never had religious things opened up to him so
+          delightfully. He felt encouraged to speak:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;M&rsquo;neer, I would like to know who God is!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Father Jansen started, and looked at Walter as if he hadn&rsquo;t
+          clearly understood the question.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes&mdash;that&rsquo;s very praiseworthy in you. You must&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, father,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Claus, &ldquo;the child isn&rsquo;t
+          in the church! Are you?&rdquo;&mdash;to Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Juffrouw, I have been confirmed.&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb205" href="#pb205">205</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;To be sure, to be sure, but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;On the Noordermarkt!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, you see he&rsquo;s in the church all right.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The good woman didn&rsquo;t have the heart&mdash;or else she had too
+          much heart&mdash;to tell the father that it wasn&rsquo;t the right
+          church.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Whoever wants to get acquainted with God,&rdquo; said Father
+          Jansen, &ldquo;must study diligently.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;To be sure,&rdquo; said Mrs. Claus, &ldquo;the articles of
+          faith. You ought to hear my Femke repeat them. It&rsquo;s a pleasure,
+          isn&rsquo;t it, father? She&rsquo;s my only child, but&mdash;she&rsquo;s
+          a girl worth having!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Femke is an excellent girl. I don&rsquo;t have any trouble
+          with her.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The father spoke in a business-like manner; and he meant it that way.
+          The spots on Femke&rsquo;s soul were easily removed. He praised Femke
+          as a cook would praise a kitchen-pot.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Father Jansen had still more praise for Femke: she had patched his
+          drawers so nicely.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, Fancy!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mention of this fact did not touch Walter&rsquo;s &aelig;sthetic
+          feelings. With him there were other considerations. Fancy was used to
+          seeing everything nude&mdash;fathers, humanity&mdash;so there was no
+          difficulty here.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was sixteen years old, already a little man&mdash;why must
+          Femke patch drawers for this father!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the mother. &ldquo;Femke is clever at
+          patching. If you&rsquo;ve got anything else that needs mending, just
+          send it over.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was warm. If it had been collars, socks, <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb206" href="#pb206">206</a>]</span>waistcoats, or&mdash;well, if
+          it had to be something questionable&mdash;if it had only been
+          trousers!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just send it over, and if Femke isn&rsquo;t here&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where is she going to be?&rdquo; thought Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then I will attend to it myself. I can do it neatly.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thank God! Dear, good, magnificent Mrs. Claus! Do it, do it yourself,
+          and leave Femke where she is.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But&mdash;where was she?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus Walter&rsquo;s thoughts; but what did he say?&mdash;the
+          hypocrite, the budding man.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, indeed, Mrs. Claus, I had almost forgotten to ask where
+          your daughter Femke is.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke? She&rsquo;s at my niece&rsquo;s, where the girl is sick.
+          You know we&rsquo;re of good family. Femke is looking after my niece&rsquo;s
+          children.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter didn&rsquo;t have the courage to ask where this niece lived, so
+          he assumed a look of contentment.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After much waiting and twisting and turning on his chair, Walter
+          finally left the house with Father Jansen. He had not yet learned how
+          to end a visit: some people never learn it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you want to do me a favor?&rdquo; said the good
+          man. &ldquo;Then walk on my right side. I&rsquo;m deaf here&rdquo;&mdash;pointing
+          to his left ear.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will tell you how it happened. When I was a little boy&mdash;are
+          you a good climber?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, M&rsquo;neer!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, I am! In the whole of Vucht there wasn&rsquo;t a boy who
+          could climb as well as I could. Do you know what I did once? I climbed
+          up and slipped a flower-pot from a third-story window. And&mdash;my
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb207" href="#pb207">207</a>]</span>priest
+          wasn&rsquo;t in a good humor at all! He didn&rsquo;t want to accept me
+          till I had returned that flower-pot; and then I had to go and beg the
+          old woman&rsquo;s pardon. And she herself went to the priest to
+          intercede for me. Then he accepted me. But I got twenty &lsquo;confiteors&rsquo;&mdash;oh,
+          he was severe!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But I was going to tell you why I&rsquo;m deaf in the left ear.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;In one of the seminaries was a student&mdash;he&rsquo;s a
+          canonicus in the Rhine country, and will get to be a cardinal, perhaps
+          pope, for&mdash;he was very sly! I will tell you, his name was&mdash;Rake;
+          but, you understand, his name was really something else. This Rake was
+          a mean rascal; but he was never punished, because he was careful. See
+          if he doesn&rsquo;t get to be a cardinal, or pope! You ought to hear
+          him quote from the Vulgate. He could rattle away for three hours and
+          never made a mistake.&rdquo; * * *
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you perfectly crazy, boy, or what is the matter with you?
+          Walking with a priest! What in the name of the Lord are you thinking
+          about? Go in the house&mdash;quick! Jesu, what troubles I have with
+          that child!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With these words Juffrouw Pieterse broke off Walter&rsquo;s
+          acquaintance with Father Jansen for this time.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The way that the father and Walter had taken led them directly by
+          Walter&rsquo;s home. Juffrouw Pieterse, who was haggling with a Jew
+          over the price of a basket of potatoes, narrowly escaped a stroke of
+          apoplexy when she saw them together.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;With a priest!&mdash;Stoffel! Come down quick&mdash;that boy is
+          walking with a priest!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb208"
+          href="#pb208">208</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Tears rose in Walter&rsquo;s eyes. He had found Father Jansen a good
+          man, and was grieved that that gentleman should meet with such a
+          reception.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It is to be hoped that those rude words were received by his left ear.
+          In fact, this seemed to be the case, for when Walter said that he was
+          at home now and that his mother was calling him, Father Jansen
+          answered kindly:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So? You live there? Then I will tell you the next time why I am
+          so deaf in my left ear&mdash;entirely deaf, you understand!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thank God, Walter thought, and wiped away his tears. In his eyes his
+          mother had committed a sin so grave that about fifty &ldquo;confiteors&rdquo;
+          would be necessary for its expiation.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, yes. I was going to tell you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With these words Father Jansen turned around again. He continued:
+          &ldquo;The flower-pot of the old lady, Juffrouw Dungelaar, you know&mdash;it
+          wasn&rsquo;t for the flowers, you understand, nor for the pot, but
+          only because I could climb so well. Otherwise&mdash;one mustn&rsquo;t
+          take anything away, even if it is so high up. <i> Adieu</i>, young
+          man!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After giving Juffrouw Pieterse a friendly greeting that she did not
+          deserve, the man continued on his way.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel said that to walk with a priest was &ldquo;simply
+          preposterous.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;As if he were crazy!&rdquo; said Juffrouw Pieterse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; agreed Stoffel, &ldquo;but it&rsquo;s because he
+          has nothing to do but loaf around. If that keeps up, he will never
+          amount to anything.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb209"
+          href="#pb209">209</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          True, Walter was loafing around; but he was not idle. His activities
+          brought nothing palpable to light, still he was building up the inner
+          life in a manner of which Stoffel had no idea.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo; said the mother. &ldquo;He must have work. If
+          he were only willing to be a compositor! or an apprentice in the
+          shoe-business. To make shoes&mdash;that he shall never do.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;This running with priests comes only from idleness, mother. Do
+          I run with priests? Never. Why not? Because I have to go to my school
+          every day!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Stoffel, you go to your school every day.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Besides, there are good priests. There was Luther, for
+          instance. He was a sort of priest. What did he do?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, I know. He reformed the people.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He made them Lutherans, mother; but that&rsquo;s almost the
+          same thing. One mustn&rsquo;t be narrow-minded.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I say, Stoffel, people ought not to be so
+          narrow-minded. What difference does it make what a person&rsquo;s
+          religion is, just so he&rsquo;s upright, and not a Roman Catholic!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When Walter told Father Jansen that he &ldquo;was in business,&rdquo;
+          and that he was &ldquo;going back to business,&rdquo; he spoke better
+          than he himself knew. He did go back to business.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Through a leather-dealer, who, speaking commercially, was in close
+          touch with shoes that came from Paris, Walter got a position with a
+          firm whose &ldquo;responsibility&rdquo; was somewhat less apocryphal
+          than that of Messrs. Motto, Business &amp; Co. He was to begin his new
+          apprenticeship in the offices of Messrs. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb210" href="#pb210">210</a>]</span>Ouwetyd &amp; Kopperlith, a
+          firm of world-wide reputation.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          However, before he was to enter upon his new duties, all sorts of
+          things were destined to happen, with the tendency to make Walter
+          appear as a &ldquo;hero of romance,&rdquo; which he wasn&rsquo;t at
+          all. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb211" href="#pb211">211</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch25" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXV
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          It was Thursday. Stoffel came home with the important news that the
+          king&mdash;I don&rsquo;t know what king&mdash;had arrived in the city
+          unexpectedly and would visit the theatre that evening. Everything and
+          everybody was in a commotion; for in republican countries much
+          importance is given to pomp and title.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This time curiosity was more wrought up than usual. Many foreign
+          princes, including an emperor, were visiting the king; and these
+          distinguished personages would follow the court to Amsterdam, coming
+          from The Hague, Utrecht and Haarlem. To put it tamely, it was to be a
+          great occasion.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That republican populace was to get to see the countenance and
+          coat-tails not only of their tyrant, but also the countenances and
+          coat-tails of many other tyrants, not to mention female tyrants.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The old doughnut women on the &ldquo;Dam,&rdquo; which the city rented
+          to them as a market-place, were threatening to bring suit against the
+          city. They felt that it was hard to have to pay rent for the fresh
+          air, day after day, with the prospect of selling a few doughnuts to
+          the youth of the street, and now be run out because his majesty wanted
+          to exhibit himself to the people from the balcony of the old City
+          Hall.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Why shouldn&rsquo;t the old women be seen at their accustomed places?
+          Must the doughnut industry be carried on secretly? Was it for fear of
+          imitations and <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb212" href="#pb212">212</a>]</span>unprincely
+          competition? Or was it to keep the old women from seeing the king?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At any rate, the whole kit of them had to leave. At most, they could
+          only mix with the crowd incognito, and afterwards might join in the
+          prearranged &ldquo;Long live the King!&rdquo; or somebody else, as the
+          case might be.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It is really remarkable that princes die. Seemingly the &ldquo;vivats&rdquo;
+          are of no avail.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The crowd was especially large, on account of the many majesties and
+          highnesses who had gathered about the tyrant.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Among the number was the Prince of Caramania, who had especial claims
+          upon the sympathy of the people, so all the newspapers said. One of
+          his ancestors had been a captain in the service of the state and had,
+          therefore, spilt his blood for the freedom of the Netherlands.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This blood, and perhaps the freedom as well, was newspaper arabesque.
+          It was certain, however, that the prince wore a green coat with gold
+          frogs; and upon his head he had a big plume. It was, therefore, quite
+          proper for the crowd to cry occasionally &ldquo;Long live the Prince
+          of Caramania!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Among the eminent gentlemen was a certain duke, who, by reason of his
+          virtues, had got himself banished from his country. The man was
+          thrifty and economical, though without neglecting himself.
+          Nevertheless, the rabble had dethroned him and sent him across the
+          border with a bushel of diamonds. Of these diamonds he was now to
+          display a few dozen in the shape of coat-buttons and the like. The
+          newspapers <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb213" href="#pb213">213</a>]</span>gave
+          the crowd their cue accordingly. They were to cry: &ldquo;Long live
+          the Duke with his diamonds!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Princess Erika was the niece of the king, and was to marry the
+          crown-prince of a great empire, which was indebted to the Netherlands
+          for its prominence. The newspapers gave the assurance that this empire
+          would pay off the national debt of the Netherlands if the people would
+          only put enough enthusiasm into a &ldquo;Long live Princess Erika!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The old Countess-palatine of Aetolia was descended directly from a
+          certain knight who treated his hostlers like princes. In this case it
+          was not inappropriate for a republican populace to ask for a
+          prolongation of her ladyship&rsquo;s life. The cry was: &ldquo;Long
+          live the Countess-palatine of Aetolia!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Grand-duke of Ysland was the handsome grandson of a shopman. His
+          merits would fill three columns of fine print. The man was a master of
+          the type-case himself, and by exerting himself could even set up his
+          own name. The newspapers said that having safely passed an ocean of
+          pitfalls, he had now perfected himself as the brother-in-law of a
+          demi-god. Therefore, whoever had the interest of his country at heart
+          could not afford to fail to bellow at the top of his voice: &ldquo;Long
+          live the Grand-duke of Ysland!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There were still more potentates and ladies of quality who had honored
+          Amsterdam with a visit. They had heard that the city was <i lang="fr">la
+          V&eacute;nise du Nord</i>, that it was <i lang="fr">tres interessant,
+          tres interessant</i>! etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And the Holland herrings! <i lang="fr">D&eacute;licieux!</i>
+          Unfortunately the Netherlanders didn&rsquo;t know how to cook them;
+          they must be baked. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb214" href="#pb214">214</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And the Holland school of painting! <i> Rambr&agrave;nn&mdash;magnifique!</i>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There were still other good things in Holland, as their highnesses
+          testified with patronizing kindness.
+        </p>
+        <p lang="fr">
+          &ldquo;Il parait qu&rsquo;un certain Wond&egrave;le a &eacute;crit des
+          choses, des choses&mdash;mais des choses&mdash;passablement bien!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And the dikes! And the Katwyk sluice&mdash;<i lang="fr">gigantesque</i>!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Whatever spare time they might have after making cheese and cooking
+          herrings, the Holland people liked to devote to fighting the elements.
+          After skating and racing this was the favorite recreation of the
+          nation.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I can assure the reader that the aristocratic party took their
+          departure thoroughly satisfied with our country. The only person who
+          received quite a different impression&mdash;but I will not anticipate
+          the feelings of our hero. Even a writer has his duties.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The first evening everything was to be illuminated. Two hundred and
+          fifty thousand candles were to proclaim the enthusiasm of the people.
+          Two hundred and fifty thousand fiery tongues were to cry: &ldquo;Hosanna!
+          Blessed be he who comes in the name of&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; In whose
+          name? Hosanna for whom? For what?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Well, that was a matter of indifference to the people. They knew that
+          there was something doing, that there was a crowd, and that was
+          enough. People are somewhat like children, who amuse themselves
+          immensely in the confusion of a &ldquo;moving,&rdquo; of a <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb215" href="#pb215">215</a>]</span>death, or
+          of anything that causes commotion and excitement.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had got permission to see the illumination. Unconsciously he
+          assumed that stupid expression which is obligatory on such occasions.
+          He listened to the conversation of those about him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I call illuminating! Nine candles for such a
+          big house!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Twelve!&rdquo; cried another.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, nine.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Twelve!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Nine!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Three&mdash;three&mdash;three&mdash;and three. Look there are
+          twelve, or I can&rsquo;t count.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, the three above don&rsquo;t count. That story is rented. I
+          know it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well&mdash;if you mean it that way. I only said that four times
+          three are twelve. What do you say, Hannes?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Hannes found the calculation correct.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How long will the candles burn?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Till about one o&rsquo;clock, I suppose.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe it!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, I do!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But I don&rsquo;t!&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Have you been in the Sukkelgracht?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, it isn&rsquo;t pretty there.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You think so? Prettier than here.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, no!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, it is!&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Look there; there&rsquo;s a verse.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, a verse. Can you read it?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb216" href="#pb216">216</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly! Let me see, what is it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I can read it, too.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s about &lsquo;illustrious blood&rsquo;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and &lsquo;our country,&rsquo; and &lsquo;dedicated to
+          honor and virtue.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And &lsquo;his illustrious blood&rsquo;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, there it stands&mdash;&lsquo;torn from the barbarians&rsquo;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That comes later. &lsquo;Illustrious blood&rsquo;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of Holland&rsquo;s hero&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Welcome, hero!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wonder if the king looks at the candles. Do you suppose he
+          reads such verses and copies them?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, he has his ministers for that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Or generals. He has seen or read about lots of nice things.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;As nice as here?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, of course!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, I do.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you know what I think? He likes to look at the lights too.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You think so?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, you don&rsquo;t believe that.<span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e4696" title="Not in source">&rdquo;</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t crowd so!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t help it. They&rsquo;re crowding me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The people are pushing and shoving as if they were crazy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Did you ever see the like? You know what I think? Kalver Street
+          ought to be as wide again as it is.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb217" href="#pb217">217</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, as wide again. The street&rsquo;s too narrow.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s why everybody&rsquo;s scroudging so.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was much truth in this. Pressure was high. People were mashed
+          and squeezed together. Those who, by reason of a lack of avoirdupois,
+          were less firmly attached to the ground, were lifted bodily. Walter
+          hung suspended in mid-air and looked over the heads of men much taller
+          than he.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you walking on stilts?&rdquo; asked a big fat woman, whose
+          hips had come into collision with Walter&rsquo;s knees. &ldquo;Well,
+          that&rsquo;s something.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The pressure was increasing. It seemed that the fat woman would soon
+          have Walter on her shoulder, like a gun; while Walter was thinking
+          that soon he would be roaming over the country like a knight. No one
+          was looking at the candles now. People were finding their amusement in
+          crowding and being crowded.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No, Kalver Street ought not to be widened. For, properly understood,
+          this crowding and pushing and shoving was the nicest part of the whole
+          business.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How tedious it would have been quietly to watch those two hundred and
+          fifty thousand candles from some comfortable position.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Our little man lay on the heads and shoulders of his brothers. Like
+          some aspirants to a throne, he threw himself upon the masses. But he
+          was beginning to feel generally uncomfortable. He wanted to hold on
+          fast to something, or somebody&mdash;to somebody&rsquo;s ears, or
+          nose. That, however, did not suit the masses. They didn&rsquo;t mind
+          being squeezed; but they didn&rsquo;t like to be held on to. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb218" href="#pb218">218</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Crash!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Don&rsquo;t let the reader be alarmed. Walter had not burst under the
+          strain; but the pressure of the crowd had broken in the double doors
+          of a caf&eacute;! The irruption was terrible. The way the crowd
+          streamed in might be compared to the flow of molten lava. Walter
+          described a <span class="corr" id="xd0e4729" title="Source: parobolic">
+          parabolic</span> curve and landed on a table, without suffering any
+          damage.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Walter Pieterse!&rdquo; cried the astonished party sitting
+          around the table.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Have you hurt yourself, Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No, he hadn&rsquo;t hurt himself; but he was rigid with surprise.
+          Firstly, over his ascent; secondly, over his a&euml;rial journey; then
+          over his descent among all kinds of glassware; and, finally&mdash;and
+          that was not the least surprising thing&mdash;he was surprised to find
+          himself all at once in the bosom of the Holsma family.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was Sietske who asked him if he was hurt.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All the glasses, both great and small, were broken; but Walter was
+          still in one piece. Uncle Sybrand helped him to his feet. It wasn&rsquo;t
+          easy, for the press was great. However, Walter&rsquo;s size
+          facilitated matters.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The proprietor couldn&rsquo;t reach the scene of action, but he was
+          able to make his voice heard to the effect that everything broken must
+          be paid for. From other tables came the noise of more breaking glass.
+          The man was desperate. He cursed kings and masses indiscriminately.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;One bottle of wine, three lemonades, six glasses!&rdquo; cried
+          Holsma, assuming the responsibility for Walter&rsquo;s unintentional
+          work of destruction. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb219" href="#pb219">219</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Uncle Sybrand was holding up the money to pay for everything.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, M&rsquo;neer, I&rsquo;m afraid to go home after this,&rdquo;
+          cried Walter. &ldquo;How can I pay for that? And my mother&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In the noise and jumble Holsma did not understand; but Sietske
+          understood.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh!&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Papa will pay for it all.
+          Besides, I have money; and William, too; and Hermann. Just be quiet.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter still did not understand. When, under the protection of the
+          Holsmas, he was safe on the outside again, and the entire party had
+          escaped the mob by taking a side street, he reiterated that he did
+          dare show his face to his mother and Stoffel.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t make any difference about the money,&rdquo;
+          said Holsma. &ldquo;I will attend to that. Why, boy, you&rsquo;re
+          scared half to death. You&rsquo;re shaking. Come along home with us
+          where you can rest a bit and quiet yourself.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The distance, however, proved too short to have the desired quieting
+          effect on Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My mother will be angry when I come home late.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Holsma told him that a messenger should be sent to his mother at once,
+          so that she would know where he was.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The doctor gave him a sedative and led him into a room adjoining that
+          in which the Holsma family were sitting. Walter was to walk up and
+          down the room till he felt better; but he soon got tired of this and
+          did the very thing that he was not to do; he sat down on a sofa and
+          fell asleep. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb220" href="#pb220">220</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Whether, in general, it is a good thing to keep in motion after a
+          fright&mdash;that I do not know. Walter, on the contrary, always felt
+          the need of sleep under such circumstances; and this remedy, with
+          which nature provided him, usually restored his mental equilibrium.
+          Perhaps, after all, it wasn&rsquo;t real sleep: he merely dreamed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again he was lifted up, higher and higher, borne by strong hands. A
+          man bit him in the hand. The fact was he had scratched his hand on a
+          refractory horsehair, which had become tired of acting as stuffing for
+          a sofa-pillow.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          An angry woman assailed him with abuse. Stupid? Not stupid? We, the
+          masses? She let him fall. But he fell in Sietske&rsquo;s lap; and
+          there wasn&rsquo;t a single sliver of glassware.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was happy&mdash;but the horsehair scratched him again. Then he
+          heard a voice. Was he still dreaming? Yes, dreaming again of soaring
+          and falling. There was Femke.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Of course there had to be something about her in his dream, and about
+          bleaching the clothes. Father Jansen was there, too, exhibiting to the
+          stars the particular garment that Femke had patched. Orion and the
+          Great Bear admired this specimen of her handiwork. Walter did not.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Did you do it yourself?&rdquo; he heard <span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e4780" title="Source: Sietska">Sietske</span> asking in the
+          next room. &ldquo;Or couldn&rsquo;t you get through the crowd?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, it was impossible to get through such a mob. I turned it
+          over to the man with the peddler&rsquo;s wagon.&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb221" href="#pb221">221</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          What was that? Walter sat up. Father Jansen was gone; Orion, too; and
+          the clouds, and the &ldquo;masses&rdquo;; but&mdash;that voice!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He heard it again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I know him very well&mdash;oh, so well! He&rsquo;s a good boy.&rdquo;
+          This he heard Femke say!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He jumped up and ran into the room where the Holsmas were. He saw a
+          triangular piece of a woman&rsquo;s dress disappear through the door;
+          then the door closed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He didn&rsquo;t have the courage&mdash;or was something else beside
+          courage necessary to ask, &ldquo;Is that Femke?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On his way home that evening Walter did not suffer in the least from
+          the sensation of being borne through the air; or from anything
+          similar. He was on the earth, very much on the earth. He felt lowly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If he had only seen that bit of Femke&rsquo;s dress somewhere else,
+          and not at the Holsmas&mdash;not in that swell family; not in the
+          company of Sietske, who had so much money in her &ldquo;savings-bank,&rdquo;
+          nor in the presence of the vain William, who was studying Latin!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was brave enough to feel ashamed of himself; and that&rsquo;s all I
+          can say in his favor.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Let us now look at things from the point of view of Juffrouw Pieterse.
+          That lady was in the clouds. She was hoping that the messenger who had
+          brought her news of Walter had not been able to find her flat at once.
+          The idea of someone from Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s asking for her through the
+          neighborhood was decidedly pleasant. The longer he might have had to
+          inquire for her the better!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course he was at the grocer&rsquo;s,&rdquo; she said. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb222" href="#pb222">222</a>]</span>&ldquo;Such
+          messengers never know where they have to go. Of course he told that
+          the &lsquo;young gentleman&rsquo; was staying at Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s!
+          And such a man always tattles; such people don&rsquo;t do anything but
+          tattle. But, as far as I&rsquo;m concerned, everybody can know it. I
+          only mean that such people like to tattle. But&mdash;say, Walter, how
+          did it happen that you went with the family? You&rsquo;re a nice
+          rascal. Stoffel, what do you say?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel made a serious face&mdash;as much as to say: &ldquo;Hm! I&rsquo;ll
+          have to think over it. He&rsquo;s been up to something.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I met the Holsma family in Kalver Street,&rdquo; Walter said.
+          He told the truth; he had met the family in Kalver Street. But why
+          didn&rsquo;t he tell anything about the extraordinary circumstances
+          under which he met them? Ah&mdash;there&rsquo;s the rub!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Your back is so sticky!&rdquo; complained Pietro, whose care it
+          was to look after the washing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The family rubbed, and felt, and smelt; and then they declared
+          unanimously that Walter&rsquo;s back had been guilty of absorbing all
+          kinds of sticky gases and liquids.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Really, it smells like lemon,&rdquo; said Trudie.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And like wine!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And it&rsquo;s just coated with sugar. Boy, where have you
+          been? Don&rsquo;t you have any sense of shame? To go to visit such
+          swell people with lemon and sugar on your back! It&rsquo;s a disgrace,
+          a disgrace.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There was such a crowd on the street.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That don&rsquo;t explain the wine on your back&mdash;nor the
+          lemon&mdash;nor the sugar. What say you, Trudie?&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb223" href="#pb223">223</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was complete unanimity. Timid, as usual, Walter didn&rsquo;t
+          have the courage to tell everything. Nor would this have done any
+          good. The understanding of the Pieterse family was like a rusty lock
+          that no key will open. Walter knew this, and remembering former sad
+          experiences, allowed the storm to rage above his head. Unfortunately
+          he, too, in a sense, was rusty. His nobility of character had
+          suffered; he had been guilty of cowardice.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He felt it. No minister could pray it away. Not even God himself could
+          revoke it. Everyone must act according to his conviction, Mevrouw
+          Holsma had said. He had not done this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A dog would have kissed the hem of Femke&rsquo;s garment, meeting her
+          after such a long separation. For it was she. Certainly it was Femke&mdash;or&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, he was hunting for or&rsquo;s!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Could it have been somebody else? It must have been somebody else. How
+          could Femke be at Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No, no, it was she! Didn&rsquo;t she say that she knew me? Didn&rsquo;t
+          she speak with the same voice that I heard when she called me a dear
+          boy and gave me the kiss at the bridge?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She didn&rsquo;t know then what a coward I am! She wouldn&rsquo;t deny
+          me and betray me. She would say to everybody: That is Walter, my
+          little friend that I kissed that time, because he was so brave in
+          fighting off those boys!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And I? Oh, help me God!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No, God has nothing to do with it. I am a coward. I can&rsquo;t live
+          this way. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb224" href="#pb224">224</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He thought of suicide; and in this mood he spent that Thursday night.
+          He arose Friday morning with the firm determination to put an end to
+          his unworthy existence.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Fortunately, just after breakfast he was put to work on a job that is
+          calculated to reconcile one with life.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He had been tried and convicted, the verdict being unanimous. The
+          penalty was that he should wash his jacket till it was clean. He
+          entered upon the task with such enthusiasm that in an hour he was
+          running to his mother crying triumphantly:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Look, mother! You can&rsquo;t see a trace of it now!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This little conquest dispelled all the clouds that had darkened his
+          life.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There are plenty of people who would gladly fall into a barrel of
+          lemonade if they only understood the salutary effects of cleaning a
+          coat.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The poor unfortunate who has never washed his own clothes does not
+          know what life is.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I will ask her pardon, thought Walter; and he pictured it all to
+          himself, wondering whether it would do for him to fall at her feet at
+          Holsma&rsquo;s, in the presence of the one who had delivered the
+          message. Finally, however, he quieted himself with the thought that
+          Femke would probably not be at the doctor&rsquo;s very long. He hoped
+          to be able then to settle the matter quietly, when only the two
+          concerned were present. This was not courageous, to be sure; but his
+          punishment was already on the way. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb225"
+          href="#pb225">225</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch26" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXVI
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The events of an eventful Friday were at an end, as it seemed; and
+          Walter prepared to climb into the narrow bedstead, which he shared
+          with his brother Laurens. He was now in a tranquil frame of mind. He
+          didn&rsquo;t even have any desire to romp with Laurens, who, without
+          laying claim to geometrical knowledge, usually managed to find the
+          diagonal of the bed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was Walter&rsquo;s intention to think over recent events again. He
+          wished to busy himself with others; he was tired of himself&mdash;at
+          least he thought so for a moment.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was a prince, who distributed money among the people. Oh, if I
+          were only a prince!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That wasn&rsquo;t a bad thought. Under the same circumstances, most
+          people would have thought: Oh, if I could only have got some of the
+          money!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The countess-palatine from&mdash;where from? Well it makes no
+          difference. She was in the museum and the papers said she was
+          gracious, very gracious.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I would do it too, thought Walter, if I were a countess-palatine. What
+          sort of a profession is that?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The king had given audiences&mdash;and a dinner&mdash;and had said&mdash;well,
+          the usual things. But for Walter it <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb226" href="#pb226">226</a>]</span>was new and interesting. The
+          welfare of the city seemed to lie heavily on his majesty&rsquo;s
+          heart. It lay heavily on Walter&rsquo;s heart, too; but that did not
+          prevent Walter from admiring this peculiarity of the king. In Africa
+          he would do the same thing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No, away with Africa!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He threw off his left stocking so violently that it curled around the
+          leg of the chair like a dying earthworm.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          What strange things he had heard of Princess Erika! It was said that
+          she was to have married a grand-duke, but rejected him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The middle classes were delighted with this news; though not knowing
+          but that it might merely have been stubbornness on the part of the
+          princess.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She was of such a strange nature that she did not know how to behave
+          herself in her high position.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter slipped off his other stocking, finding fault with the princess
+          for disregarding the usual customs and conventions. Hm! He wondered if
+          she would like to change places with him, and let him be Prince Erich&mdash;and
+          she&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He wondered if she too wore an ugly nightcap. But&mdash;no! Princesses
+          would wear caps of diamonds.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Princess Erika!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter blew out the light&mdash;no, he was on the point of blowing it
+          out. He had selected one of the triangles that Laurens had described
+          in the bed, when suddenly he became aware of a great tumult in the
+          Pieterse home.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, somebody had rung violently three or four times and was still
+          banging at the door. Fire? <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb227"
+          href="#pb227">227</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Hm! Could it be Princess Erika, he thought, who was coming to change
+          places with him?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Alas, it was only Juffrouw Laps; and she did not come to exchange.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Well, what did she want then, so late in the evening?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter pulled himself together and listened.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The compartment where Walter and Laurens slept was a boxed-up
+          arrangement over the sitting-room. Two of their sisters shared the
+          space with them. From considerations of modesty, therefore, the boys
+          always had to get sleepy a quarter of an hour before the young ladies.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The writer is unable to say how much oxygen four <span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e4915"
+          title="Source: family, the female part, of course, was still in the">young
+          people need during eight hours without suf</span>focating; but anyway
+          there wasn&rsquo;t much room in this little nook.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In another closet-affair there was a similar division, and here, too,
+          the hour for retiring was determined by similar laws of modesty.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reader will now understand why a part of the family, the female
+          part of course, was still in the sitting-room when Walter imagined
+          that Princess Erika had come to exchange places with him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps, who had rushed up the steps like a crazy woman, burst
+          into the room weeping and moaning and sobbing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The usual cries of, &ldquo;What on earth is the matter?&rdquo; &ldquo;Lord
+          &rsquo;a&rsquo; mercy&mdash;what has happened?&rdquo; were
+          forthcoming. Walter noticed, too, that the customary glass of water
+          was offered and drunk, and that proper efforts were being made to get
+          the unhappy one to &ldquo;calm herself.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb228" href="#pb228">228</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps began her story with the positive assurance that it was
+          impossible for her to utter a word.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It seemed, therefore, that the affair was something important. Walter
+          pulled on one of his stockings and prepared to listen.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I swear, Juffrouw Pieterse, by the omnipotent God, that I&rsquo;m
+          so frightened and excited that I can&rsquo;t talk.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Goodness!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where are your children? In bed? Not all of them, I hope.
+          Really, I can&rsquo;t speak. Give me another glass of water, Trudie.
+          Listen, how my teeth are chattering. That comes from fright, doesn&rsquo;t
+          it? I&rsquo;m in a tremble all over. Thank you, Trudie. Where&rsquo;s&mdash;Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He&rsquo;s undressing,&rdquo; said Juffrouw Pieterse. &ldquo;He
+          goes to bed before me and Pietro. Mina makes so much noise, you know;
+          and Trudie must stay with the boys to keep them from fighting. That&rsquo;s
+          why I sleep with Pietro, you see. Stoffel undresses himself, and then
+          he draws the curtain when he hears us on the steps. But why&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How that concerns me, you mean? To be sure. I&rsquo;m just
+          beside myself from fright! And is&mdash;Laurens in bed too?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course! A long time already. He has to go to the
+          printing-house early.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All in bed! And I&mdash;I run through the streets, wretched,
+          crazy, and don&rsquo;t know what to do. Is everybody in bed?&mdash;everybody?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But what has happened?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb229" href="#pb229">229</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to tell you, Juffrouw Pieterse. Oh, if you only
+          knew how frightened I am!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Consideration of acoustics now led Walter to put on his other
+          stocking.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You know, Juffrouw Pieterse, that of late so much stealing has
+          been going on.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And burglary and murder! And the police can&rsquo;t catch
+          anybody. You know the old woman and the servant-girl who were murdered
+          in Lommer Street.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But three are already behind the bars for it. What more do you
+          want?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all right; the murderers are running around
+          scot-free. They&rsquo;ve locked up three fellows just to keep the
+          people from thinking too much. They don&rsquo;t want anybody to ask,
+          &lsquo;What are the police for?&rsquo; You see what I mean? I tell you
+          that such a low-down rascal, who commits a murder and steals lots of
+          money, cannot hide his bloody clothes; nor the money, either. He&rsquo;s
+          not used to having so much money. All the neighbors know his coat and
+          breeches; and such a man hasn&rsquo;t any trunk where he can hide his
+          things. He doesn&rsquo;t know how to manage with drafts and notes; and
+          he don&rsquo;t know enough to get away to a foreign country. As for
+          friends to help him get rid of the stolen things, he hasn&rsquo;t any.
+          I tell you, Juffrouw Pieterse, a murder or a robbery, when they don&rsquo;t
+          catch the murderer right away&mdash;then some respectable person has
+          done it, who has more clothes and boxes and presses and linen&mdash;and
+          he has friends among bankers. A common fellow would stick a hundred
+          thousand florins in the bread-box, and the <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb230" href="#pb230">230</a>]</span>children would find it when
+          they went to slip a slice of bread and butter. What do you say,
+          Trudie?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Trudie was not versed in criminal statistics and had never reflected
+          on the matter. At least Walter heard no answer. Curiosity compelled
+          him to draw on his trousers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But,&rdquo; he heard his mother saying again, &ldquo;what has
+          happened to you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What has happened? I am beside myself. Don&rsquo;t you see how
+          I&rsquo;m trembling? The city is full of murderers!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My goodness! How can I help it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t. But I am beside myself, and I want to ask your
+          advice. Do they all go to bed so early?&mdash;Stoffel&mdash;and
+          Laurens&mdash;all of them? Look, how I&rsquo;m shaking. Do you suppose
+          I dare go back to my room?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why not? Do you think you&rsquo;re going to be murdered?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes. I do think it! The murderers of that old woman and of the
+          servant-girl are still on the war-path. Yesterday at the illumination
+          how many watches did they steal? And the police&mdash;what do they do?
+          Nothing, nothing! Yes, they watch you to see if you beat a rug in the
+          morning after ten o&rsquo;clock. That&rsquo;s what the police do. They
+          don&rsquo;t bother murderers.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What do you know about the murderers? It&rsquo;s your duty to
+          report them if you know them.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter put on his vest and wrapped his muffler around his neck.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What I know about them! They are besieging <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb231" href="#pb231">231</a>]</span>me in my own house. Isn&rsquo;t
+          that pretty rough? I went out at noon to see the boat race on the
+          Amstel; but there was nothing to see, because there was no wind. And
+          such a crowd! All the kings were there, and the visiting princes and
+          princesses, you know; and everybody stared at the carriages, and I did
+          too. Not that I care anything about a king. Goodness, no! For he is
+          only a worm in God&rsquo;s hand, and when the Master doesn&rsquo;t aid
+          him&mdash;all is vanity, vanity. Dust and ashes&mdash;that&rsquo;s
+          all. But I looked at the carriages, you know, and at the horses, and
+          at the staring crowd. I thought to myself, I will fry the potatoes
+          when I go home. They had been left over from dinner; and when there
+          are any potatoes left over, you know, I always fry them for supper.
+          There was a big crowd, and all were mad because there was no wind; for
+          people are foolish about pleasure and never think of the Master.
+          Worldly, worldly, they were&mdash;and the princes and princesses. I
+          thought, well, it&rsquo;s no wonder that there&rsquo;s so much robbery
+          and murder; for they try God&rsquo;s patience. I thought, God will
+          punish you; He&rsquo;s only abiding His time. He always does it,
+          Juffrouw Pieterse! A lady&mdash;the creature had red pimples on her
+          face, and was older than you&mdash;what do you suppose she had on her
+          head? A turban! She rode in a carriage with four horses. What do you
+          think of that? She was playing with a fan; and, when a prince rode up
+          to her carriage, she stuck out her hand and let the fan go up and down
+          three times. And the prince did that way three times. Were they crazy,
+          or not? What will the Master say to that? If He only doesn&rsquo;t
+          send a pestilence on us!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb232"
+          href="#pb232">232</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, but the murderers&mdash;what did they do to you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, certainly&mdash;what they did? I am going to tell you. I&rsquo;m
+          still trembling. I had sliced my potatoes, put them on a saucer and
+          set them away in the cupboard. Then I thought, I will fry them when I
+          come home; for I didn&rsquo;t expect to stay long in the crowd, for I
+          have been saved by grace and don&rsquo;t care for worldly things&mdash;ah,
+          dear Juffrouw Pieterse, you must call Stoffel, so he can hear what has
+          happened.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel was already on his way down; and Walter was glad of it. Walter
+          had heard the noise Stoffel was making putting on his clothes in the
+          adjoining booth, and upon this he builded hopes that he too might be
+          allowed to go down, where he could hear the exciting story better than
+          was possible through the cracks in the floor. In the meantime he had
+          completely dressed himself. The noises below told him of Stoffel&rsquo;s
+          arrival in the sitting-room. He heard the usual greetings and Juffrouw
+          Laps&rsquo;s solemn assurance that she was still in such a tremble
+          that she couldn&rsquo;t say a word. Then he heard her ask immediately
+          where Laurens was.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Laurens? Well, he was asleep.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That youth&rsquo;s absence seemed to trouble the visitor. She couldn&rsquo;t
+          proceed. Was it really necessary for Laurens to be present?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What do you say, Stoffel? Isn&rsquo;t the city full of thieves
+          and murderers?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel drew in his upper lip and tried to make the lower one touch
+          his nose. Let the reader try the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb233"
+          href="#pb233">233</a>]</span>same; then he will know how Stoffel
+          answered, and what his answer meant.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps pretended to believe that he had said &ldquo;yes.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see, Stoffel says so too! The city is full of
+          thieves and murderers, and&mdash;a respectable person is afraid to go
+          to bed alone any more. It&rsquo;s just that way.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But&mdash;Juffrouw!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The police? Nonsense! What good do the police do, when people
+          don&rsquo;t believe in God? That&rsquo;s the truth. Whoever doesn&rsquo;t
+          do that is lost. Human help&mdash;I cannot understand at all why
+          Laurens goes to bed so early. You surely know that so much sleep isn&rsquo;t
+          good for anybody. What does the Bible say? Watch and pray! But&mdash;everyone
+          according to his notion. I swear before God that I don&rsquo;t dare to
+          go home alone and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s curiosity was at high tension. In order to hear better
+          he was leaning over, supporting himself with the chair. The point of
+          support was unsteady. The chair slipped and rattled across the floor,
+          crashing into another piece of furniture.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Heaven and earth! What are they up to now,&rdquo; groaned the
+          mother. &ldquo;Laurens, is that you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter peeped in, &ldquo;It was me.&rdquo; The result was that he was
+          soon in the midst of the interesting conversation that he had been
+          trying to hear from above.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His entrance took place under unfavorable circumstances. He was blamed
+          for not having been undressed. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb234"
+          href="#pb234">234</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you always put on your nightcap before you undress?&rdquo;
+          cried the mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The boy had actually forgotten to take off his nightcap. He was so
+          ashamed that he felt he would like to fall through the floor. He would
+          rather have neglected anything else.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And&mdash;what have you there?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Alas, our hero looked more ridiculous than anyone could look by simply
+          putting on a nightcap. He had armed himself with an old rusty knife
+          that his father had used in prehistoric times for cutting leather!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          During the whole of the Laps recital, which progressed so slowly, he
+          had thought and hoped and intended&mdash;yes, he heard something that
+          sounded like, &ldquo;Where is Walter?&rdquo; The speaker really did
+          not say it&mdash;no, on the contrary, those were the very words she
+          wished to avoid&mdash;still, he thought he heard her say them. On this
+          Friday he had acted mean and cowardly; but he was still Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Murderers? Thieves? A lady in danger? What other answer could there be
+          but: &ldquo;I am here, I, Walter!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, fate, why did you put that sword in his hand and let him forget to
+          remove that nightcap? Why didn&rsquo;t you divide these two
+          absurdities between Stoffel and Walter! Or why couldn&rsquo;t you put
+          that feathery diadem on the head of the sleeping Laurens? It would
+          have been all the same to him how he looked in his sleep.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was in a rage. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb235"
+          href="#pb235">235</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And I am, too. Towards Femke his chivalry had remained in the
+          background; and now it must burst forth at a doubtful call from
+          Juffrouw Laps!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In his anger he threw the weapon down violently and allowed it to
+          rebound across the room. He slapped the nightcap on the table.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No one would have thought that the little man could be so vehement.
+          His mother, with her usual solicitousness, inquired into the condition
+          of his mind, asking if he was only cracked, or downright crazy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I tell you,&rdquo; said the visitor, &ldquo;you ought not to
+          worry that child so much.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Go to bed at once!&rdquo; cried the mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why can&rsquo;t you let the child stay here? But&mdash;oh, yes!
+          I was going to tell you about my potatoes.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter stayed. For this privilege he was indebted to the general
+          curiosity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just imagine, when I came home about half past ten o&rsquo;clock&mdash;I
+          couldn&rsquo;t get away earlier on account of the crush, you know. Don&rsquo;t
+          you know, I don&rsquo;t care for these big occasions. Well, when I got
+          home&mdash;the city is full of thieves, murderers, and that must not
+          be forgotten&mdash;well, my potatoes were&mdash;what do you think my
+          potatoes were? They were&mdash;gone!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Gone?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Gone!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All gone?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All gone!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Your potatoes&mdash;gone?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My potatoes&mdash;all completely gone!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb236"
+          href="#pb236">236</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I tell you those thieves and murderers did it. Who else could
+          have done it? Thieves and murderers in my house! And I wanted to ask
+          you&mdash;for I&rsquo;m afraid in my room&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s eyes fairly shone.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wanted to ask, if perhaps&mdash;your son Stoffel&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel&rsquo;s face was a study, a curiosity. If the said thieves and
+          murderers could have seen it they would have been greatly pleased, for
+          it bore evidence of Stoffel&rsquo;s intention to leave them
+          undisturbed in their work.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Juffrouw,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;haven&rsquo;t you a cat
+          in your room?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A cat? A cat to fight murderers with!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, Juffrouw, not to fight murderers; but a cat that might have
+          eaten the potatoes.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know anything about a cat. I only know that the
+          city is full of low-down people when so many murders are committed and
+          no one tries to catch the murderers. Not that I am anxious about my
+          life&mdash;no, not at all. When the Master calls me I shall say,
+          &lsquo;Let thy daughter go in peace; my eyes have seen thy glory.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, woman, why didn&rsquo;t you look in your closet, and under
+          the bed?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t want to do that, Juffrouw Pieterse! The Lord
+          will take care of me&mdash;but one must not try the Lord&rsquo;s
+          patience. I would not go in the closet, or look under the bed&mdash;not
+          for everything in the world! For of course he&rsquo;s there, and that&rsquo;s
+          why I wanted to ask if <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb237"
+          href="#pb237">237</a>]</span>your son&mdash;Stoffel, or, if Stoffel
+          doesn&rsquo;t want to, if perhaps your son&mdash;Laurens, or&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Juffrouw, why didn&rsquo;t you call the neighbors?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus spoke Stoffel.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The neighbors? Well, I guess they know about it. The man who
+          lives under me is afraid of a poodle-dog, not to mention a murderer.
+          There&rsquo;s a man living next to me; but, you know, he is&mdash;what
+          shall I say&mdash;he is a sort of bachelor, and I don&rsquo;t want to
+          get talked about. You know a woman must always think of her
+          reputation, and not get mixed up in gossip.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It did not occur to anyone to ask what sort of a creature Stoffel was.
+          Was he a bachelor? Or did his position as a teacher protect him
+          against any worldly suspicion?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And, besides,&rdquo; continued the seductive Laps, &ldquo;do
+          you think all men have courage? No! They&rsquo;re as afraid of a thief
+          as they are of death. Last week an insolent beggar was on the steps,
+          and the fellow wouldn&rsquo;t leave. Do you think the men did anything
+          to him? Scared to death! But, I tell you, I got hold of him in a hurry
+          and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She had gone too far, and she saw it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, I would have done that if I hadn&rsquo;t been a woman;
+          for a <span class="corr" id="xd0e5104" title="Source: women"> woman</span>
+          must never use violence. It isn&rsquo;t becoming. What do you say,
+          Trudie? I ran and shut my door. Wasn&rsquo;t that right? No, none of
+          the men-folk has any courage!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          None of the men-folk! Walter felt insulted. He was swelling with
+          suppressed courage; he was eager <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb238"
+          href="#pb238">238</a>]</span>for a fray. At least, he was eager to
+          show that he was an exception to Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s general
+          indictment. Of course Juffrouw Laps noticed this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, if Stoffel doesn&rsquo;t want to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;To tell the truth, I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And if Laurens is already asleep&mdash;and if&mdash;if no one
+          else will&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She arose.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then I suppose I must, relying upon God, go alone. But it&rsquo;s
+          horrible for a woman to be entirely alone!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She looked at them all in turn, all except the one she was talking to.
+          Walter felt that he was being forgotten, or overlooked. This only
+          increased his latent courage and made him burn with a desire to be
+          numbered with the knighthood of the house.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, if there&rsquo;s nobody here who&rsquo;s not afraid&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not afraid!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All but Juffrouw Laps were surprised. She was a good psychologist, and
+          had not expected anything else. It was her part, however, to pretend
+          to be as much surprised as any of the rest.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You, Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Boy, are you crazy? You?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, I. I&rsquo;m not afraid; not if there were ten in the
+          closet and a hundred under the bed!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A little Luther! But with a difference. Luther had a God in whom he
+          felt he could trust&mdash;reinforced by a few grand-dukes. Walter,
+          without any grand-dukes, was ready to enter the field against a God
+          who <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb239" href="#pb239">239</a>]</span>was
+          allowing any number of murderers to take shelter under the roof and
+          bed of Juffrouw Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Boy!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll risk it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Let him go, Juffrouw Pieterse. You understand&mdash;it&rsquo;s
+          company for me to have such a child with me. Then I&rsquo;m not
+          frightened so badly, if a murderer is in the closet. Nobody wants to
+          be entirely alone. Isn&rsquo;t that so?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps gained her point: Walter was permitted to go with her.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was principally their vanity that caused the Pieterses to consent
+          so readily to Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s request and allow her to take
+          Walter away to act as her castellan. Not one of them felt that it was
+          a good thing for Walter to go with the Juffrouw; but they were all
+          proud of his courage. The story would get noised abroad, and people
+          would pass it on to their friends. Juffrouw Pieterse would see to it
+          that the people knew it was &ldquo;the same young gentlemen, you know,
+          that went home with Dr. Holsma.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, and then people would say: &ldquo;There&rsquo;s something in
+          those Pieterse children.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mothers like to hear such things.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With his package under his arm Walter marched away with Juffrouw Laps
+          to do battle for that pious lady. That prehistoric weapon he left
+          behind, on her assuring him that she had a well-filled store of
+          weapons and ammunition enough to kill all the murderers that he would
+          have occasion to contend with. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb240"
+          href="#pb240">240</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch27" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXVII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Walter shuddered as he crossed Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s threshold. He
+          reflected, and wondered how he could have entered upon this knightly
+          expedition without considering certain details connected with it and
+          inseparable from it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The first thing she offered him, of course, was the fried potatoes,
+          that dainty dish which the murderers had greedily made <span
+          class="corr" id="xd0e5165" title="Source: way">away</span> with!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was beginning to feel that the game wasn&rsquo;t worth the
+          candle. The adventure didn&rsquo;t offer sufficient outlet for his
+          chivalry. In fact, he thought something other than chivalry was
+          necessary to face single-handed and alone those fried potatoes and
+          Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s persistent attentions.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Make yourself at home and eat all you want. Don&rsquo;t be a
+          bit embarrassed. Or would you rather take off your coat first? You
+          know, you&rsquo;re to stay all night with me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter preferred to keep on his coat for the present.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <span class="corr" id="xd0e5175" title="Not in source"> &ldquo;</span>And
+          I have a dram for you, too, my boy&mdash;something extra. It&rsquo;s
+          from Fockink&rsquo;s. You know where he has his distillery, there in
+          that narrow street. You must never pass along there. Bad women live in
+          that street. They stand at the doors and windows, don&rsquo;t you
+          know; and that isn&rsquo;t good for a bachelor like you.&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb241" href="#pb241">241</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter, the &ldquo;bachelor,&rdquo; looked surprised. He was abashed;
+          though he was not displeased. This promotion was more flattering than
+          going into &ldquo;business.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Still, he was embarrassed. Juffrouw Laps found it desirable,
+          therefore, to continue along this line.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, Walter, you&rsquo;re a bachelor. Don&rsquo;t you
+          know that? It&rsquo;s only because at home they treat you like a
+          child. I tell you, you&rsquo;re a bachelor, just as much so as anybody
+          else. Do you think I like Stoffel as well as I do you? No, no, no! Not
+          a bit of it! I like you lots better. Don&rsquo;t you want a pipe to
+          smoke? You are man enough for that. Of course you are; and why shouldn&rsquo;t
+          you smoke a pipe like other men?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Men, men!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter answered that he couldn&rsquo;t smoke yet. It cost him an
+          effort to make the admission; but his first attempt to equal Stoffel
+          in that respect had turned out badly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So? You don&rsquo;t smoke?&rdquo; She omitted his &ldquo;yet.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, it&rsquo;s a good thing. It&rsquo;s a stupid habit in
+          men. And forever the terrible smoke! I know other young gentlemen who
+          do not smoke. For instance, there is Piet Hammel. He&rsquo;s as old as
+          you, but a little smaller. He&rsquo;s going to marry a cousin of mine;
+          and he doesn&rsquo;t smoke either.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter felt better now. He was interested.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, they&rsquo;re going to get married about&mdash;well, I don&rsquo;t
+          know exactly when. But they intend to marry. I tell you, you are a
+          real bachelor; and it&rsquo;s awfully stupid of them still to treat
+          you like a child. I&rsquo;ve told your mother so a hundred times.
+          There on the street <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb242" href="#pb242">242</a>]</span>just
+          now, when we were together&mdash;I&rsquo;m a delicate woman; but do
+          you think I was afraid?&mdash;with you with me? Not a bit. Not a trace
+          of fear. And why? Because everybody could see that I had a man with
+          me. I ought to have taken hold of your arm&mdash;you&rsquo;re almost
+          taller than I am&mdash;but I didn&rsquo;t do it because you had a
+          package. And then&mdash;the people talk so much! The watchman might
+          have seen it, and he would have spread the news broadcast that I had
+          been seen at night with a gentleman.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With a gentleman! Walter was listening.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A woman must always think of her reputation. But we&rsquo;re
+          here at home now, and that&rsquo;s very different, entirely different.
+          I know that of course you wouldn&rsquo;t tell anything bad about me.
+          Whoever tells anything bad on a woman isn&rsquo;t a true gentleman.
+          You know that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, Walter knew it. He understood Juffrouw Laps better than she
+          imagined.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What I wanted to say was, you must never go through that
+          street. So long as you were a child, it made no difference. But now!
+          Let me fill your glass for you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter drank.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          O Fancy, my muse, where art thou?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How do you like it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter owned that the liquor had a pleasant taste.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Satan&rsquo;s handmaid filled the glasses again. They were &ldquo;so
+          small,&rdquo; really &ldquo;mere thimbles.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you must eat something, dearest. Oh, I have always thought
+          so much of you! It&rsquo;s good for you to have a little dram like
+          that.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb243" href="#pb243">243</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter began to eat.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just take off your coat; there&rsquo;s nobody here but us.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Quite so. Walter did take off his coat.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And I&rsquo;m going to sit close to you, for you are a dear,
+          good, sweet boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Fancy, Fancy!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The liquor was strong, and Walter drank more of it than was good for
+          him. He lost some of his modesty, and hardly knew what he was saying
+          to the talkative Juffrouw, as she asked questions from time to time.
+          She was not quite satisfied with the way things were going, but hoped
+          for the best.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Occasionally Walter found time to wonder why he was there, what the
+          purpose of the enforced visit might be. His hostess seemed to have
+          forgotten all about those thieves and murderers; and when he reminded
+          her of them, she showed a spirit of valor that did him good. For he
+          and his valor were undone.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will do them! Do you think I&rsquo;m afraid of such a fellow?
+          Well, I guess not. Not afraid of three of them. I wouldn&rsquo;t be
+          afraid of ten of them&mdash;I&rsquo;m not afraid of the whole world. I
+          will do them.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All the better, thought Walter; for then he wouldn&rsquo;t have to
+          &ldquo;do&rdquo; them.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          They now heard something rustling around in the closet, or else they
+          imagined they heard something. Walter was frightened. He was a perfect
+          child again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Stay here, and I will see what it is,&rdquo; cried the
+          Juffrouw. &ldquo;Do you think I would let them beat you, or stab you,
+          or murder you, my boy! Never! Whoever <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb244" href="#pb244">244</a>]</span>touches you will have to walk
+          over me. But I will give them all they need.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She went out, taking the light with her, to see what was the matter&mdash;if
+          anything. She was careful to leave Walter in the dark long enough for
+          him to wish for her return. The tables were being turned. A little
+          more, and the boy would seek protection under her apron.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Juffrouw&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will let you call me Christine. That&rsquo;s my name.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This was too much for Walter. He preferred to avoid addressing her
+          directly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But hadn&rsquo;t I better go home now?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Not at all. You don&rsquo;t want to leave me, do you? You know
+          your mother is in bed asleep now. Besides, it was understood that you
+          were to spend the night here and take breakfast with me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Breakfast! The boy hadn&rsquo;t been doing anything else for an hour.
+          Was that to continue till morning?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you what! Just undress yourself; and you needn&rsquo;t
+          be a bit ashamed before me. I will make down a pallet for you there in
+          the corner. When I&rsquo;m here alone&mdash;just a woman&mdash;with
+          all the thieves and robbers&mdash;oh, it&rsquo;s so horrible!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter did not dare to say no; nor did he dare to do what was proposed
+          so enticingly. He hesitated.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She talked sweetly and persuaded him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He began to&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The child was as if hypnotized.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          O Fancy, Fancy! Where art thou? <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb245"
+          href="#pb245">245</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch28" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXVIII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          It will be remembered that on this significant Friday a boat-race had
+          been arranged for the amusement of the visiting princes and
+          princesses. It had to be called off on account of a disinclination on
+          the side of the wind to fill its part of the program, or rather, to
+          fill the sails. For it was to have been a &ldquo;sail.&rdquo; Rowing
+          was not in style then; it was not considered dignified and manly.
+          Besides, the boats were not built to be propelled in this way.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The boat-race had been canceled; but the crowd remained, and continued
+          to discharge its enthusiasm for royalty till a late hour. It was a
+          great day; and the populace perspired and shouted and howled.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was so hot that kings and princesses perspired like ordinary
+          mortals. They flourished fans indolently. At that time there was a
+          special kind of fan: &ldquo;<span lang="fr">joujoux de Normandie</span>.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was observed that the old countess-palatine manipulated her fan
+          more elegantly than anyone else. No doubt it was through this &ldquo;gentle
+          art&rdquo; that she exerted her greatest influence on humanity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Gradually the carriages of the distinguished guests disappeared, and
+          the knightly horsemen tired of the saddle. The day drew to a close.
+          The populace pushed and crowded and sang and hurrahed and drank.
+          Fireworks were discharged, to express, so <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb246" href="#pb246">246</a>]</span>the newspapers said, the
+          inexpressible love of the people for princes and princesses.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, those firecrackers, and the danger in them! Quick, quick&mdash;throw
+          it&mdash;a second longer and it will burst in your hand&mdash;hurrah!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was magnificent&mdash;the danger and thrilling anxiety. There was a
+          tradition that somebody had once held a firecracker in his hand too
+          long and had been badly hurt by it. This traditional &ldquo;somebody&rdquo;
+          was now inspiring the revelers with fresh enthusiasm.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          So it was on that evening, before the city authorities had prohibited
+          the use of fireworks. After the houses had been covered with slate, it
+          was thought that there was too much danger of fire in firecrackers,
+          but on that evening, when the houses still had thatch roofs, the
+          dangerous pleasure of Amsterdam youth was unrestrained.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And the other dangerous pleasures! How many lasses went home with
+          their skirts singed, some of them hardly getting home at all.
+          Interesting adventures! And a boy&mdash;&ldquo;those boys have to have
+          their noses in everything&rdquo;&mdash;yes, a youth came very near
+          getting a load in his face. Thrilling delight!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The crowd was now in the street where Juffrouw Laps resided. The
+          reader will recall that Walter was spending the night with her.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Boom! went a gun, or a cannon-cracker; and Walter awoke just as his
+          affectionate hostess and religious adviser was going to give him a
+          kiss.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps had burned her sinful lips. &ldquo;Lord have mercy on
+          us, what is that!&rdquo; she cried. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb247" href="#pb247">247</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Both ran to the open window. Ordinarily a respectable Hollandish girl
+          never leaves her window open at night; but the extreme heat of the
+          evening must be urged in Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s favor.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was clear to them at once that they had not been fired upon by
+          those &ldquo;murderers,&rdquo; for nobody paid any attention to them
+          or showed any interest in them. Other windows were open, as well; and
+          on all sides people were looking out. Right and left a cannonade of
+          firecrackers was going on.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In the interest of privacy Juffrouw Laps took the precaution to blow
+          out the light as quickly as possible. Another might have neglected
+          this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter looked down on it all with the delight of a child. He forgot
+          the insistent kindness of his hostess; he thought of nothing but the
+          crowd below and their antics. The noise and tumult sobered him; and it
+          even had a quieting effect on Juffrouw Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How foolish the people are. They push one another hither and
+          thither and don&rsquo;t know themselves why they do it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Click, click!&rdquo; answered an enthusiast with a gun. He was
+          in the midst of a bevy of girls, who scattered in an uproar.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;They&rsquo;re all drunk,&rdquo; said Juffrouw Laps. &ldquo;I
+          wish they would go home. I&rsquo;m tired&mdash;and it&rsquo;s two o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just a little more!&rdquo; begged Walter. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not
+          tired&mdash;not a bit!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid you&rsquo;re catching cold. For you know, the
+          night air after a hot day&mdash;well, put on your cap, dearest. I
+          wouldn&rsquo;t have this night air to give you <span class="pagenum">
+          [<a id="pb248" href="#pb248">248</a>]</span>a cold for everything in
+          the world. Look, there goes another one.&rdquo; It was a Roman candle.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem" lang="fr">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Amour &agrave; la plus belle.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Honneur au plus vaillant&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t they sing Dutch? Do you understand any of it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter knew something of the handsome Dunois, who slew so many Turks
+          and received as his reward the daughter of the duke, his master. How
+          would a knight be rewarded after he had already received one reward?
+          Or how would it have been if the master had had no daughter?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          While Walter was asking his lady friend such difficult questions as
+          these, they heard an outburst of cries and abuse and oaths below. A
+          reaction had set in. It was a perfect riot. The crowd swayed first one
+          way then the other, according as one party or the other was in the
+          ascendency.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Non-combatants were pushing their way out; combatants, themselves
+          crowded, were crowding others. Cries of &ldquo;help&rdquo; were heard.
+          Mothers, with babies in their arms, attested their fear; women in
+          delicate health made their condition known.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The press was worst on the corner, whither the revelers were streaming
+          from three directions. Here was located a popular restaurant and
+          drinking-place, which was probably the destination of the stream
+          coming from Amstel Street. The second stream, coming from Utrecht
+          Street, evidently had the same objective in view. The strongest
+          current was flowing <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb249" href="#pb249">249</a>]</span>from
+          the belligerent group, which was now squeezed into close quarters.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          From his recent experience Walter knew what it meant to be in such a
+          mob. Whoever fell was walked over. But it really wasn&rsquo;t so bad
+          as that: to fall was impossible. The danger was in being crowded off
+          the street into basements, where limbs and necks might be easily
+          broken. In this respect there was more danger than there had been the
+          evening before in Kalver Street.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Christian souls!&rdquo; cried Juffrouw Laps. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+          getting right sick at the stomach.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s condition was about the same. All at once he seized her
+          arm. He thought that he saw somebody&mdash;somebody who looked like&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s right, dear. Hold fast to me. It&rsquo;s simply
+          death and murder!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter did not say anything.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t it enough to run anybody crazy?&rdquo; continued
+          the dear Juffrouw. &ldquo;Hold fast to me, and remember that I am your
+          Christine.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was remembering something else.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be afraid&mdash;Lord, that child&rsquo;s beside
+          himself&mdash;nobody shall hurt you. I will take care of you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He held on to her arm all the tighter; otherwise he was as if turned
+          to stone.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t pay any attention to it, sweetheart. But&mdash;it
+          is bad enough. Do you see that girl there with the North Holland cap
+          on? I wouldn&rsquo;t like to be in her place.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It is&mdash;Femke! O God, it is Femke!&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb250" href="#pb250">250</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Shaking off Juffrouw Laps, who attempted to hold him back, he rushed
+          down the steps and in a few minutes was in the thickest of the fray.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He fought his way through the crowd like a mad-man, soon reaching the
+          point where he had seen Femke. She, however, had disappeared. A man
+          with flashy cap and sailor&rsquo;s jacket, who from above had looked
+          like her escort, was still contending with the crowd. It seemed as if
+          the two had come arm in arm through Amstel Street.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is there a girl here with a North Holland cap on?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The man was too busy fighting and wrestling for standing-room to make
+          answer. Meanwhile, Walter noticed that the fellow was struggling
+          toward the &ldquo;Herberge,&rdquo; and concluded that his lady must
+          have taken refuge there.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter paid no more attention to the punches and blows he received. He
+          was only concerned to give as many blows as were necessary to hasten
+          his arrival at the restaurant. The place was about as badly crowded as
+          the street, but there was no fighting going on.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, Walter had made a good beginning: yesterday in the &ldquo;Polish
+          Coffeehouse,&rdquo; to-day in the &ldquo;Juniper Berry&rdquo;&mdash;thrown
+          in there, fighting his way in here.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was in the restaurant at last, looking for Femke. Now he thought
+          that he had discovered her, standing on a step, or something of the
+          kind. With lips tightly closed, her arms crossed, the girl was looking
+          quietly down on the multitude as if in silent contempt. The rim was
+          torn from her cap and was hanging down. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb251" href="#pb251">251</a>]</span>Walter thought that he even
+          saw blood on her face&mdash;Femke&rsquo;s dear face!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was exhausted and could not reach her. He looked at her. She did
+          not see him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She stood there proud and haughty. He called to her. She did not hear.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;O God! she despises me. I deserve it for my cowardice at Holsma&rsquo;s.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Boy,&rdquo; said the woman behind the bar, &ldquo;we don&rsquo;t
+          have any bellowing here. If you want to bellow go to your mother.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Easier said than done. He couldn&rsquo;t move a peg, such was the
+          press. He was shoved against the counter; and it was impossible for
+          him to keep sight of Femke. The tears began to roll down his cheeks.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What are you doing in such a crowd anyway?&rdquo; continued the
+          woman, &ldquo;when you&rsquo;re so weak. You look as flimsy as a
+          dish-rag. What have you been doing? Let me give you a glass of cognac.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He would have been only too glad to pay for his place; but, as he
+          &ldquo;received at home everything that he needed,&rdquo; he did not
+          have the wherewithal. Still, there was no danger of his being thrown
+          out. The crowd, which was threatening to expend its remaining energy
+          in destroying the liquids of the place, was now occupying the barmaid&rsquo;s
+          attention. I should say Mrs. Goremest&rsquo;s attention. She was the
+          proprietress.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl continued to hold her position of advantage. There was
+          something scornful in her features. &ldquo;Who dares!&rdquo; she
+          seemed to say.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was feeling bad. She looked over in his <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb252" href="#pb252">252</a>]</span>direction, but without seeing
+          him. He called; but she did not hear.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then the fellow with the flashy cap and sailor jacket appeared in the
+          door. He had not been one of the belligerents; but he had suffered the
+          fate of neutral powers. As his clothing testified, both parties had
+          been his enemies.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          So intent was the fellow on getting in that he did not even take time
+          to return the shoves and cuffs that he received. Twice, three times he
+          was crowded back; for where so many want the same thing, it isn&rsquo;t
+          easy to obtain. Nevertheless, he had one advantage over the others,
+          who sought only a resting-place and a glass of liquor. He was incited
+          by something else.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter hoped with all his heart that the fellow would succeed in
+          reaching Femke. She looked so lonely in the midst of that wild mob. If
+          he had been stronger, he would have&mdash;but she wouldn&rsquo;t have
+          anything to do with him. Wouldn&rsquo;t she push him off, just as she
+          did the insolent fellow who first caught hold of her apron?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl seemed now to spy the sailor. She nodded to him and smiled,
+          as if to encourage him. Or was she thanking him for his fidelity? Her
+          smile bore the message that she was uninjured, and fearless. Yes, she
+          stood there a statute of repose.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The sailor nodded back.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He would never have denied her, Walter thought.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mrs. Goremest happened to see the new arrival; and, from the way she
+          greeted him, he seemed to be a frequent visitor to her place: <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb253" href="#pb253">253</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Hello, Klaas. Are you there too? You&rsquo;re out of breath,
+          aren&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She gave orders to let him through, and even came out a few steps and
+          helped open up the way for him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus it happened that Klaas Verlaan found standing-room at the counter
+          not far from Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, they&rsquo;ve made the most of you!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He saw it the same way. He was never certain of a moment&rsquo;s
+          recreation before bedtime. Walter, as well as the girl who still
+          maintained her elevated position in the corner, agreed with the
+          bar-woman&rsquo;s verdict.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Had a good day?&rdquo; continued the woman. &ldquo;It was bad
+          about the boat-race.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Klaas placed his finger on his mouth, as if he were going to tell her
+          a secret. He wanted to tell of an adventure with Princess Erika.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A glass of corn?&rdquo; translated the bar-woman, but without
+          guessing the right thing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Half and half?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Nor that either.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Red?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This time Klaas was particularly dainty and hard to please. He
+          declined regularly whatever she suggested and continued to exert
+          himself to draw her into a more confidential talk. He had had the
+          pleasure of pulling Princess Erika out of the water.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On the outside they were still singing, &ldquo;Amour &agrave; la plus
+          belle.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The devil take those Welsh songs!&rdquo; cried one of the
+          drinkers. &ldquo;We are Dutchmen forever!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">
+          [<a id="pb254" href="#pb254">254</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, we are Dutchman forever&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And our prince&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will sing what I please; and, if anybody doesn&rsquo;t want
+          to sing&rdquo;&mdash;he struck himself on the chest, and the whole
+          party was Dutch and enthusiastic over royalty. &ldquo;Our Prince&rdquo;
+          was sung lustily, and to a finish.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, when we were still true Dutchmen&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, when we were still true Dutchmen&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And under the republic!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Long live the republic!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You all ought to have seen a yacht-race then.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And our prince&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Under the republic all men were equal.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Equal. No difference at all.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Down with the tyrants!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;They&rsquo;re not a bit better than we are!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;They suck the life out of the people.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, they bleed us.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And why? Because you&rsquo;re all cowardly dogs.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, they&rsquo;re all cowardly dogs.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You put your necks under the yoke.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Whenever a king comes around, or an emperor, or a prince, then
+          all of you are so frightened you tremble like an aspen leaf.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, like an aspen leaf!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If you fellows were&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All men are born free.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, we were born free and equal.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And true Dutch hearts&mdash;what say you, Mrs. Goremest? <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb255" href="#pb255">255</a>]</span>What do
+          you think, that&rsquo;s a daughter of M&rsquo;neer&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The name died on the speaker&rsquo;s lips. He became pale.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A daughter of M&rsquo;neer&mdash;&mdash;!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly. Ask Verlaan.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Verlaan nodded.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is that so, Klaas? Really and truly? Why then does she stand
+          there dressed that way&mdash;like an ordinary girl?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, those clothes came from my Gertie, you know. Rich people
+          have&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Come, boys, we must go home now. Mother Goremest needs sleep,
+          too. We are not made of iron; we are flesh and blood.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Down with the tyrants! We were born free. True Dutch hearts&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh! The young lady&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What? That girl? What then?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh! The daughter of&mdash;but don&rsquo;t say a word. Damme if
+          it isn&rsquo;t so&mdash;the daughter of M&rsquo;neer&mdash;Kopperlith!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Kopperlith on <i>Keizersgracht</i>? What are you talking about,
+          man! Kopperlith&mdash;on <i>Keizersgracht</i>!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, of course. Come, we&rsquo;re going.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;His daughter? His&mdash;&mdash;natural daughter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s right. You understand it now; but keep quiet about
+          it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The true Dutch hearts and republicans paid and left the bar.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was a sudden whim of Klaas Verlaan&rsquo;s to make his ward a child
+          of <i>Keizersgracht</i>; but it brought <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb256" href="#pb256">256</a>]</span>him in more ducats than he
+          cared to admit afterward.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Kopperlith? Kopperlith? on <i>Keizersgracht</i>? Femke on <i>
+          Keizersgracht</i>! And on the day after to-morrow he was to begin work
+          for this wealthy gentleman.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His head swam. Was he still Walter Pieterse? He doubted it. Before he
+          had quite come to himself, he was forced through the door with other
+          late stragglers. It was time for Mrs. Goremest to close.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The street was comparatively quiet now. Walter remained near the
+          &ldquo;Herberge,&rdquo; which to him was a sort of temple where his
+          Goddess was being worshiped. Now and then somebody else was pitched
+          out the door, who would have been glad to stay longer. It was not
+          every day that one got an opportunity to see a daughter of M&rsquo;neer
+          Kopperlith. Some wanted to join the triumvirate of Verlaan, the
+          republican speaker, and Mrs. Goremest; but the three felt themselves
+          strong enough to do the work and share the rewards.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At last the outflow ceased, and Walter was just going to peep through
+          the curtains of the glass door, when the door opened again and the
+          republican emerged. Walter heard Klaas call to him:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There on the corner in Paarden Street, you know<span
+          class="corr" id="xd0e5559" title="Source: ,">.</span> If it costs a
+          dollar more, that&rsquo;s all right. Tell the cabby&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter understood. The republican was to get a cab&mdash;for Femke?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter waited. In the meanwhile, Mrs. Goremest had locked the door and
+          drawn the curtains, so that it was impossible for him to look in now.
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb257" href="#pb257">257</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In a short time a carriage drove up, and the republican sprang out of
+          it. The door of Mrs. Goremest&rsquo;s establishment opened again, and
+          Klaas Verlaan with the ostensible daughter of Kopperlith appeared.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke, I am here!&rdquo; Walter cried, hurrying to her. &ldquo;I
+          am here. Oh, Femke, don&rsquo;t go with the strange men!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What in the devil are you doing here again!&rdquo; snorted
+          Verlaan, seizing Walter by the collar to pull him back into the
+          restaurant. &ldquo;What do you want? And who are you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke, don&rsquo;t go with the strange men. I will take you
+          home, I, Walter.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The boy is weak in the upper story,&rdquo; affirmed Mrs.
+          Goremest. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s been bellowing around her the whole
+          evening like a calf, and he hasn&rsquo;t spent a doit.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter reached for Femke&rsquo;s hand; and then he noticed how
+          curiously she was rigged out. She was completely covered. Of her head,
+          face, shoulders, figure&mdash;nothing was to be seen. Mrs. Goremest
+          had contributed her cloak; but what would one not do for a Kopperlith?
+          Still, she was saving: Only the stump of one tallow candle was
+          burning. It flickered strangely, giving to everything a ghostly
+          appearance.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is it you, Erich?&rdquo; the girl asked.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke, Femke, for God&rsquo;s sake, don&rsquo;t go with those
+          strange men!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Tearing himself away from Verlaan, he threw himself at Femke&rsquo;s
+          feet. He pulled aside her cloak and covered her hand with tears and
+          kisses.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just like I tell you,&rdquo; declared Mrs. Goremest. &ldquo;The
+          boy is as crazy as a bedbug.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb258" href="#pb258">258</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke, I will never deny you again. Strike me, tread on me,
+          kill me, but&mdash;don&rsquo;t go with those strange men.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Light!&rdquo; cried the girl peremptorily&mdash;a word that
+          even a Dutchman understands.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The republican took the candle from the counter and held it so that
+          the light fell on Walter&rsquo;s face. The boy was still kneeling.
+          Through an opening in her hood the girl looked down on him and was
+          silent. She did not withdraw the hand that Walter held closely pressed
+          to his lips.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Verlaan made a motion as if to remove the intruder; but the girl
+          stopped him with a look. Then she laid her free hand on Walter&rsquo;s
+          head, saying simply:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My brother!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Another <span class="corr" id="xd0e5600"
+          title="Source: descendent">descendant</span> of Kopperlith!&rdquo;
+          growled the republican. The young people have strange ideas about how
+          to spend the night.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When Walter came to his senses, he was in the street again. The
+          carriage had driven away&mdash;whether with her, or without her;
+          whether with the two men, or without them&mdash;that he did not know.
+          It made no difference to him: she had called him &ldquo;brother,&rdquo;
+          seriously, solemnly. She had spoken clearly and distinctly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;O God! I thank thee. Thou art kind and compassionate. I didn&rsquo;t
+          know that Femke could speak like that. She must have felt it down in
+          her heart.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To-morrow, he thought, he would become immensely wealthy&mdash;in
+          &ldquo;business&rdquo;&mdash;and, of course, he was going to be a king
+          again, and still more: For Femke he would be more than a brother!
+          Juffrouw <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb259" href="#pb259">259</a>]</span>Laps
+          had awakened in him&mdash;well, something, he did not know himself
+          what it was. His heart rejoiced; he walked upon stilts, as tired as he
+          was, and wondered that his head did not bump against the clouds. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb260" href="#pb260">260</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch29" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXIX
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          For anyone in Walter&rsquo;s present mood, there are only two things
+          in the world; self, and&mdash;nothingness!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter looked about him. &ldquo;Butter Market,&rdquo; he read on a
+          sign. He noticed that in the street socks could be bought, wagons
+          hired, etc., etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But what did it all mean? Nothing. He had kissed Femke&rsquo;s hand!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It is too bad that the world did not sink out of existence on that
+          summer night.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If Walter had noticed such an occurrence, he might have asked if Femke
+          was hurt; otherwise the phenomenon would not have disturbed him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reader will understand, of course, that on this eventful night the
+          world did not go down.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter forgave the sun for rising. He even excused the Butter Market
+          for being such a hot place; but it was difficult for him to convince
+          himself that it was not all a dream.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A new feeling took possession of him. His ambitious plans of a
+          material nature receded into the background of consciousness. His one
+          desire now was to love Femke&mdash;and win her love. Those continents
+          that were expecting salvation from him might wait.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He thought of Femke and her soft hand. Never had her hand felt like
+          that. Formerly it had seemed <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb261"
+          href="#pb261">261</a>]</span>harder and rougher; but, of course, he
+          had just been mistaken about it. He imagined, too, that hitherto he
+          had not marked her voice well, nor her carriage. Surely, he had never
+          seen the true Femke till to-night&mdash;better, this morning.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But&mdash;Klaas Verlaan and his rough companions! What did all that
+          gab about M&rsquo;neer Kopperlith mean? There were other questions
+          too; but&mdash;Femke had called him brother; and that was one thing
+          which with him was as firm as the rock of Gibraltar.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Brooding thus, he slipped along through the streets. Weak and tired,
+          he came to the &ldquo;Dam.&rdquo; Here he saw a long row of carriages.
+          The coachmen sat in their places waiting for the princely guests, who
+          had wanted to see a Holland sunrise. The sun was already in sight; but
+          there were no princes and princesses to see him. A few laborers were
+          looking on indifferently.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yesterday Walter would have exerted himself to see a live, fullgrown
+          king, just to find out if he looked like Macbeth, or Arthur, or Lear.
+          To-day he was so tired that kings did not interest him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was just starting on, when the coachmen suddenly assumed a rigid
+          attitude. A boy remarked that &ldquo;they&rdquo; were coming now. He
+          was right: they did come; and all, except one old lady, drove away so
+          rapidly that scarcely anyone saw them. She touched her coachman on the
+          shoulder.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She has forgotten something,&rdquo; said the boy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Three or four cavaliers stormed back into the palace and brought her
+          fan. While they were gone, the boys wondered at the pimples on her
+          face. Walter&rsquo;s <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb262" href="#pb262">262</a>]</span>pictures
+          had had nothing of that kind. How different Femke&rsquo;s face was!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter trudged along further; and, without thinking of where he was
+          going, he came to the meadow where Femke and her mother dried their
+          clothes. He sat down on the grass, intending to wait for the first
+          signs of life in Femke&rsquo;s home. He was not certain that she was
+          there; he did not know but that she might still be at Holsma&rsquo;s;
+          but there would be somebody there.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Overcome by weariness he lay down and gradually fell asleep. His cap
+          came off, rolled down into the ditch and disappeared in the mud.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If anyone passed by, he remarked that there lay a drunken fellow. Yes,
+          youth begins early. Possibly the fellow was sick; but then the police
+          would take care of him. Nobody hurt him; nobody touched him. His
+          dreams were undisturbed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He dreamed of various things; but the principal object of his dreams
+          was a young girl, who was standing on a platform playing ball with
+          heavy men, as if that were nothing. Suddenly it was little Sietske
+          Holsma.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then in his dreams he heard a voice:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Goodness, boy, how did you get here?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At first the voice was far away, then nearer, and finally quite near.
+          He had the dim impression that somebody was pulling him up to a
+          sitting posture.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sietske!&rdquo; he whispered, still sleeping.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, that&rsquo;s my name. How did you know it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sietske&mdash;&mdash;!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, certainly. Who told you? And what are <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb263" href="#pb263">263</a>]</span>you doing here. It isn&rsquo;t
+          very respectable. Are you drunk? And so young, too.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He called Sietske&rsquo;s name again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You may call me by my first name, if you want to; but how does
+          it come? Did Femke tell you? It&rsquo;s a real disgrace to lie here
+          like a hog. What were you going to say?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter rubbed his eyes and felt of his head. &ldquo;I would like to
+          wash myself,&rdquo; he said, not yet wide awake.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Claus. &ldquo;And you&rsquo;re not
+          hurt, are you? Where is your cap?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Wash&mdash;with cold water,&rdquo; Walter said.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Good! Come to the pump with me.&rdquo; She led him through the
+          house and across the back yard.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You needn&rsquo;t be afraid to undress here; nobody can see
+          you. But how did you happen to call me by my first name all at once.
+          Not that I&rsquo;m offended at all.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was still too much asleep to recall what had happened to him
+          during the past few hours; so he only said that he had a headache and
+          must wash himself first.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mrs. Claus, noticing that he was ashamed to undress, hung some quilts
+          on the fence, thus converting the yard into a sort of room. It never
+          occurred to her that her own presence might embarrass him. Walter was
+          still not quite pleased with the outlook for a bath; but since
+          yesterday he had been thinking of other things as strange.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He began to strip, allowing Mrs. Claus to help him, just as if he had
+          been fifteen years younger than he was. To Mrs. Claus he was only a
+          child. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb264" href="#pb264">264</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She laid him on a bench under the spout and began to pump. At the
+          first drops he shivered; then the water flooded his head and
+          shoulders. He could neither see nor speak. His efforts to speak she
+          interpreted as calls for more water.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, this will be good for you.&rdquo; Her words were drowned
+          by the splashing water.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t hurt yourself, did you? Do you think that will
+          be enough now? I&rsquo;ve pumped till I&rsquo;ve got a pain in my
+          side. But if you think that&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She stopped all at once, but still held on to the pump handle, as if
+          to show her willingness to continue.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I forgot entirely to&rdquo;&mdash;she began pumping again&mdash;&ldquo;wash
+          you off with green soap. Femke always washes herself with it. It makes
+          the skin nice and smooth.&mdash;You ought to see your back now. It
+          shines like a looking-glass.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter wanted to say something but couldn&rsquo;t.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and your forehead, too. It&rsquo;s the green soap that
+          does it. I guess your mother never washes you with green soap, does
+          she? Then one must scour and scrub and rub. But, if you are not used
+          to soap&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She lifted that terrible pump handle again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I believe this will be about enough,&rdquo; Walter blubbered.
+          His mouth was so full of water that again Mrs. Claus did not
+          understand him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Green soap is good for corns, and for rheumatism.&rdquo; She
+          was pumping away for dear life.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter finally succeeded in rescuing himself and the bench from that
+          destructive stream of water. He was now able to make his cries for
+          mercy understood; but <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb265"
+          href="#pb265">265</a>]</span>he was not yet able to get up. Besides,
+          the good woman had hung his clothes out of his reach, and he was
+          ashamed. He remained sitting.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you want anything else?&rdquo; inquired the water nymph.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, no!&rdquo; he answered quickly. She was already lifting
+          the pump-handle again. &ldquo;But&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The simple, innocent woman did not understand; and, when he continued
+          to sit there like a helpless lump of misery, she asked:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you have a pain anywhere?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, I haven&rsquo;t any pains.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you tired?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was still tired, and said so.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And I woke you up! I&rsquo;ll tell you what, you must go to
+          sleep and take a good nap.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She began drying him off, as if that were a usual thing in her day&rsquo;s
+          work. Then she rolled him up in a sheet and carried him off like a
+          sack of clothes. He could not but notice the way she laid him down.
+          Then she covered him warmly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Straighten out your legs, my boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter did as she said, and experienced an indescribable feeling of
+          comfort. And when she punched him and patted him and tucked him in,
+          and said: &ldquo;Poor child, you can sleep good now. This is Femke&rsquo;s
+          bed, you know&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; then he was more than comfortable;
+          he was delighted.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When he awakened at about four o&rsquo;clock in the afternoon he heard
+          whispering voices. He listened, at first to find out where he was, and
+          then to understand what was being said. <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb266" href="#pb266">266</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It seemed as if there were a plot further to confuse Sietske with
+          Femke in his mind.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Sietske; but what does he mean by lying out like that? If
+          I were his mother&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The answer was:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Cousin, I don&rsquo;t suppose his mother knows about it.
+          Hermann did the same thing once. That&rsquo;s the way boys are.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oho! Sietske was there; and Mrs. Claus was her cousin, and her name
+          was Sietske too! And that girl&mdash;there in Mrs. Goremest&rsquo;s
+          place?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His thoughts became more and more confused; though physically he felt
+          well.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How would it do, he thought, to tear a little piece out of the sheet,
+          so as to be able to examine it to-morrow and make certain of himself
+          and his adventures?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If he had been accustomed to fine bedlinen at home, he might now have
+          taken an especial pleasure in Mrs. Claus&rsquo;s extremely rough
+          homemade linen. Hm! He had always dreamed of princesses sleeping on
+          embroidered silk, among diamonds and pearls! He did not yet know that
+          it is possible to conceive royal and imperial highnesses otherwise at
+          night, and that perhaps a princess might sometimes be willing to
+          tousle Femke&rsquo;s bed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He looked about the room. There was another small bed, where, he
+          supposed, Femke&rsquo;s mother slept. Across the room was the chimney.
+          Here were small shelves decorated with works of art. Walter noticed
+          the &ldquo;resurrection of Lazarus.&rdquo; Four chairs were in the
+          room. One was standing by his bed, and on it his clothes were
+          carefully arranged. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb267" href="#pb267">267</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In the middle of the room stood a table; and the drawer was partly
+          open. It was too full. Father Jansen&rsquo;s woolen socks were peeping
+          out while they waited for repairs. Walter wondered if those other
+          objectionable articles were there too.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On the wall, at the head of his bed, hung a crucifix, with a small
+          basin of holy water. With that she crosses herself, he thought. He
+          stuck his hand into it: it was dry. The whole arrangement was fastened
+          to an embroidered piece of cardboard, and, when he touched it,
+          something fell from behind it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It looked like a large-sized letter. Walter picked it up and looked
+          for the address. He felt that it must be a letter from Femke to him.
+          Then he reproached himself, and, trembling with emotion, restored the
+          piece of paper to its place. He had held it up to the light: it was
+          the Ophelia that he had presented her after his illness! She had
+          treasured the picture together with the most sacred thing she
+          possessed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was wide awake now; but who wouldn&rsquo;t wake up on receiving a
+          letter from Heaven?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He dressed himself and went into the other room, where he supposed
+          Mrs. Claus and Sietske were. Not a soul was to be seen. For the first
+          time it occurred to him that after those few words he had heard
+          nothing more. The girl had surely visited her &ldquo;cousin&rdquo; and
+          then gone away.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Mrs. Claus herself? Perhaps she, too, had gone away. This was the
+          case; however, she had not gone out without leaving behind her a
+          peculiar sign of her uncouth character and lack of refinement. On a
+          small table, before which stood an inviting chair, <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb268" href="#pb268">268</a>]</span>lay two
+          pieces of bread and butter of her standard make. Beside them was a pot
+          of coffee. To be sure, it was cold now; but&mdash;well, Walter acted
+          quickly &ldquo;according to his convictions.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Other thoughts now forced themselves on his mind. The &ldquo;House of
+          Pieterse&rdquo; appeared to his mind&rsquo;s eye as a menacing
+          waterspout. In the face of this danger difficult questions that had
+          been clamoring for answer had to be forgotten.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To go home? For heaven&rsquo;s sake, no!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His mother, Stoffel, his sisters&mdash;all had turned into Macbethan
+          witches. In his imagination, even Leentje had deserted him and was
+          asking him to beg forgiveness for his shameful behavior. He thought of
+          the prodigal son; though he knew that no calf, fat or otherwise, would
+          be slaughtered on his return.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <i>Sakkerloot!</i> I haven&rsquo;t done anything wrong; I haven&rsquo;t
+          squandered anything&mdash;not a doit of my inheritance! Have I allowed
+          the wine to run out? Not a drop!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But something must have been the matter; for&mdash;he did not dare to
+          go home.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Have I had any pleasure? Have I enjoyed any feast with four young
+          ladies? No! Have I allowed hounds to run around loose in the
+          banquet-hall? Have I had any negro servant to hold my horse?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There he took his stand. And he stayed there. Of camels and girls and
+          wine he felt that he was innocent; but himself, and his adventures of
+          the night, he was unable further to explain.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wish I were a crumb of bread,&rdquo; he sighed, as he <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb269" href="#pb269">269</a>]</span>stuck one
+          into his mouth, &ldquo;then I would know where I belong.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Doubtless the first crumb of bread that was ever envied by a ruler.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Go to America?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, if he only had those hundred florins that Mr. Motto had relieved
+          him of. Of course that worthy gentleman was now living like a prince
+          on the money. At least, Juffrouw Pieterse had said as much. But, even
+          if he had the money, he could not go away and leave Mrs. Claus&rsquo;s
+          house to the mercy of stray thieves and robbers. In a way, hadn&rsquo;t
+          he on yesterday evening taken the field against robbers?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Besides, he had no cap. There was nothing in sight that looked like a
+          hat. Yes&mdash;there hung a North Holland cap!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke? America? <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb270" href="#pb270">270</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch30" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXX
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          While Walter was looking at Femke&rsquo;s cap and revolving other
+          plans of escape, the door opened and Kaatje, the girl from Holsma&rsquo;s,
+          walked in. Not recognizing her, Walter did not understand her when she
+          said that Femke had sent her to ask how he was. He looked at the
+          messenger searchingly; then he asked:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you trying to make a fool of me?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He had puzzled over recent events till everything seemed ghostly and
+          unreal; and he was angry.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My dear sir, Femke sent me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What Femke? Somebody&rsquo;s grandmother again.&rdquo; He took
+          a step forward; and his attitude was threatening.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you that giant Miller&rsquo;s sweetheart?&rdquo; taking
+          another step forward, while Kaatje fell back.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Young man!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Kaatje was already outside of the door, Walter close after her with
+          his fists doubled up.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Young man, what&rsquo;s the matter with you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter with me? I&rsquo;m tired of being made
+          a fool of. You understand?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She retreated backwards; he pursued. It may have looked comical; but
+          that was the way his anger chose to express itself. In this manner the
+          girl returned by the same way she came, which was the footpath across
+          the meadow where the clothes were dried. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb271" href="#pb271">271</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, heavens! If the doctor would only come.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What do you think of me?&rdquo; Walter said, punctuating his
+          words.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, Lord!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do <i>you</i> think I&rsquo;m drunk?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, no, no. Not at all!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Or crazy?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no!&mdash;Where can the doctor be so long!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Two very similar shouts put an end to the strained situation.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Thank God, there he is!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Thank God, there it is!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          One cry came from Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s coachman, who was driving up
+          hurriedly; the other cry meant that two boys, who were fishing in the
+          ditch for frogs, had caught Walter&rsquo;s cap.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter accepted his lost property without question or complaint; while
+          Kaatje, with tears in her eyes, ran up to Dr. Holsma to explain what
+          was the matter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is it really so bad?&rdquo; asked that gentleman presently.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He approached Walter, who was shaking the mud from his cap, glad to
+          think that he was concealing his embarrassment and fright.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, my boy, it&rsquo;s a good thing I met you here. I wanted
+          to ask you if you wouldn&rsquo;t like to take dinner with us this
+          evening. Afterwards we will all go out for a little amusement, if you
+          like.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was the tone Walter needed to hear. He burst into tears.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Thank you, thank you! That will be nice for my mother, too.&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb272" href="#pb272">272</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Holsma motioned to Kaatje, who had timidly retired to the background.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Go to Juffrouw Pieterse and tell her that the young gentleman
+          dines with us, and that he is going to spend the evening with us.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; cried Walter quickly, &ldquo;and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The doctor looked at him anxiously. He was afraid that he saw symptoms
+          of the alleged mental disorder; but Walter&rsquo;s eye was calm and
+          gave no ground for fear.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;M&rsquo;neer, can&rsquo;t she say too that I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Out with it, my boy! What have you on your heart?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That I was with you&mdash;all day!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Holsma reflected.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;all day.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;From early this morning&mdash;from seven o&rsquo;clock on.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;From seven o&rsquo;clock on,&rdquo; the doctor repeated.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And&mdash;I ate breakfast at your house.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, the young gentleman ate breakfast at our house. To
+          be sure, he ate breakfast with us. Kaatje, you can ride in the
+          carriage with us.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As Holsma helped Walter in he gave the coachman directions to stop at
+          Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s, where &ldquo;the girl&rdquo; was &ldquo;to
+          leave a message.&rdquo; When he took a seat by his prot&eacute;g&eacute;,
+          Walter pressed his hand and exclaimed: &ldquo;Oh, what a good fortune
+          it is that I found you!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you think so? It was only a&mdash;mere accident. Mrs. Claus
+          is a&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A cousin?&rdquo; interrupted Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and she&rsquo;s a good woman,&rdquo; said Holsma. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb273" href="#pb273">273</a>]</span>&ldquo;She
+          is a cousin of ours, and I came to visit her. I do that every week,
+          not as a physician, but as a kinsman. You can go to see her as much as
+          you like: nothing will hurt you there.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;M&rsquo;neer!&rdquo; exclaimed Walter suddenly&mdash;and he
+          caught his breath&mdash;&ldquo;I think so much of Femke!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So?&rdquo; answered Holsma dryly. &ldquo;I do too.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The doctor was diagnosing Walter&rsquo;s case; but he preferred to do
+          it quietly. While speaking of indifferent things, he noted that Kaatje
+          had been mistaken; that Walter was both excited and exhausted, but
+          that his mind was unaffected. On the contrary, his mind was growing.
+          His soul was expanding.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When Kaatje left the carriage, Walter felt that the time had come to
+          give and receive explanations. Holsma was of a contrary opinion. He
+          was friendly enough, but showed no inclination for heart-to-heart
+          confidences. Walter&rsquo;s confusing story was promptly interrupted.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve heard that you&rsquo;re going to enter the world of
+          business.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, sir, the day after to-morrow.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, that isn&rsquo;t bad, if you get into the right hands.
+          You must work, though; and that&rsquo;s good for boys like you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Fearing that Walter might imagine he was something more than the
+          average boy, Holsma continued immediately:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a good thing for everybody, especially young people.
+          They&rsquo;re all alike; and all need to work. All boys must work; and
+          girls, too. Everybody must work.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb274" href="#pb274">274</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter did not understand that the doctor was giving him a dose of
+          medicine; but he saw that the time for explanations had not yet
+          arrived. Still he would have felt better if he could have unburdened
+          his mind of at least a part of those persistent memories of last
+          night. His instinct of chivalry would have prevented him from
+          mentioning the details of the Laps affair, which, after all, had only
+          been an ineffective attack.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He began again; but the doctor interrupted him before he had hardly
+          mentioned the fried potatoes.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, such things happen to everybody. That doesn&rsquo;t amount
+          to anything. The thing for young people to do&mdash;and for old
+          people, too&mdash;is to work. It seems to be rather windy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was true. If it had only been as windy yesterday.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you like pictures?&rdquo; asked Holsma, when they had left
+          the carriage and were entering his home.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Good! Just go into that room. Look at everything as long as you
+          please.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The doctor pushed him into the room, then ran through the hall and up
+          the stairs to prepare the family for Walter&rsquo;s reception.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter found little pleasure in paintings. He had had no training in
+          art. For him, a man with a dog and a hare was merely a man with a dog
+          and a hare. He felt that a poem ought to have been written about it
+          all; then it would have been intelligible. His glance fell on the
+          portrait of a woman, or a queen, or a fairy, or a mayor&rsquo;s
+          daughter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke! <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb275" href="#pb275">275</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Instead of the North Holland cap she wore a diadem of sparkling stars,
+          or rays of&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Dinner is ready, and papa and mamma invite you to come out to
+          the dining-room. Are you still sore after your fall?&rdquo; It was
+          little Sietske.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t fall.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I mean from your fall on the table in the coffee-house. How
+          comical! Well, if you are all right again, we&rsquo;re going out this
+          evening&mdash;papa, mamma, William, Hermann, you, I&mdash;all! We&rsquo;re
+          going to the theatre!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Sietske had understood her orders.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Going out?&mdash;to the theatre? But my mother&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Papa will attend to that. Don&rsquo;t worry; he will arrange
+          everything.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Once out in the hall, Walter hesitated again. He motioned to Sietske
+          and took her back into the room.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sietske, who is that?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That is a great-great-great-great-grandmother of ours.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But she looks like&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Like Femke! Of course. Like me, too. When Hermann puts on such
+          a cap you can&rsquo;t tell him from Femke. Come, now. We mustn&rsquo;t
+          keep mamma waiting.<span class="corr" id="xd0e5971"
+          title="Not in source">&rdquo;</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On entering the dining-room Walter was met by that quiet cordiality
+          that the doctor had prescribed. When all were seated Sietske mentioned
+          the picture again in apologizing to Walter for hurrying him away from
+          it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; remarked the doctor quietly, &ldquo;there is some
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb276" href="#pb276">276</a>]</span>resemblance;
+          but Femke is not so pretty. No, not by a great deal.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A cold douche!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had never thought of Femke&rsquo;s beauty. He really did not
+          know whether the girl was pretty, or not.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Will you take some sauce, Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She had called him brother, so solemnly, and with such a mien! Of
+          course the lady in the portrait, with the sparkling diadem, would hold
+          out her hand the same way. Walter made an awkward gesture with his
+          hand.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Salad?&rdquo; asked Sietske.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It will be crowded,&rdquo; said Mevrouw Holsma. &ldquo;Everyone
+          will want to see the kings and princes. We haven&rsquo;t asked our
+          guest yet if he wants to go. We&rsquo;re going to the theatre; would
+          you like to go with us?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was charmed at the prospect. He had never been in a theatre,
+          but had long wanted to see such a play as Leentje had described. He
+          cared nothing for kings. He would have given a dozen kings for one
+          baron carrying away a girl in the approved manner. The Glorioso
+          influence was still on him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;We shall see half of the sovereigns of Europe,&rdquo; said
+          Holsma, &ldquo;and a dozen candidates&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter wondered what the candidates would do in the &ldquo;comedy.&rdquo;
+          Sietske explained.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was still plenty of time. Holsma was going out to see a patient
+          and promised to stop at Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For reasons of fashion and feminine finery the play was not to begin
+          till nine o&rsquo;clock. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb277"
+          href="#pb277">277</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter heard that Femke, too, was to witness the performance; and from
+          the conversation he gathered that the relations existing between the
+          aristocratic family and the poor wash-girl were most cordial. Mevrouw
+          Holsma sent Sietske to ask Femke to come in; but Femke preferred to
+          remain with little Erich, with whom she was playing at the time.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Erich?&rdquo; thought Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I thought as much,&rdquo; said Mevrouw Holsma. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s
+          why she wasn&rsquo;t at the table. She would rather stay with the
+          baby.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She says, too, that we sit at the table too long for her,&rdquo;
+          added Sietske.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She wouldn&rsquo;t enjoy the play anyway,&rdquo; observed
+          William. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s a good girl, but she&rsquo;s a little
+          thick-headed. Don&rsquo;t you think so, mamma?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Everyone must act according to his own convictions, and consult
+          his own tastes. Femke is too good to be forced to anything.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There must have been some special reason why the mother was going to
+          the theatre with the rest, when she preferred to stay at home with
+          little Erich, who had the measles. But she was going to remain &ldquo;only
+          a little while,&rdquo; and then come back with Uncle Sybrand. He would
+          return to the theatre taking Femke with him, if she cared to go.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I call it thick-headedness,&rdquo; affirmed William. &ldquo;She
+          just don&rsquo;t want to put on a fine dress.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, she doesn&rsquo;t want to be a fine lady,&rdquo; said the
+          mother. &ldquo;She is very sensible and fears that this might disturb
+          her relations with her mother. We ought to have taken her when she was
+          little; but Mrs. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb278" href="#pb278">278</a>]</span>Claus
+          couldn&rsquo;t give her up then. And now Femke can&rsquo;t give
+          herself up.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She&rsquo;s only stubborn,&rdquo; William explained.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She is proud,&rdquo; corrected his mother, &ldquo;too proud to
+          appear other than she is. She wouldn&rsquo;t exchange places with a
+          princess.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Uncle Sybrand came. He announced that the &ldquo;Scylla&rdquo; of
+          Rotgans was to be given, followed by &ldquo;Chloris,&rdquo; with
+          something else as a close. Holsma had already returned, bringing
+          Walter the assurance that it was all right with his mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was enchanted in anticipation. Was he still thinking of Femke?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          William said: &ldquo;So far as I&rsquo;m concerned she can stay at
+          home. Suppose the students were to see me with a peasant girl! What
+          would they do for me when I enter college in September?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Such an Amsterdamer calls everybody a &ldquo;peasant,&rdquo; even if
+          he is a student and able to explain what sort of a &ldquo;Scylla&rdquo;
+          that was.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All were now dressed and starting. Walter was to see his first &ldquo;comedy,&rdquo;
+          and, perhaps, take a part in one. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb279"
+          href="#pb279">279</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch31" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXXI
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Good Muse, sweet Muse, take us back to Pieterseville again. Whisper to
+          me and tell me what happened there during Walter&rsquo;s romantic
+          enchantment; and have a care that my language rises to the dignity of
+          the subject.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          We know already, Clio, how the mistress of the castle saw her progeny
+          depart to protect the distressed lady from the nefarious attacks of
+          robbers and murderers; how her blessing and the consecrated blade were
+          withheld, and how the brave youth sallied forth with a nightcap his
+          only weapon. We know, too, how the bachelor Stoffel, the hereditary
+          custodian of the reputation of the family&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Ah, let us treat the matter quite simply, and leave the muse alone.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On the Friday evening in question Juffrouw Pieterse went to bed as
+          usual. The others did the same. There were no indications of bad
+          dreams. There was no trace of anxiety over the terrible danger to
+          which Walter had thoughtlessly exposed himself. This might have been
+          because they did not know of the danger. It had not been at all
+          necessary for Juffrouw Laps to conceal her intention so slyly and
+          always omit Walter&rsquo;s name from the knighthood of the Pieterse
+          family. Thanks to the <span class="corr" id="xd0e6049"
+          title="Source: stupdity"> stupidity</span> of the family, she might
+          have gained her point without any finesse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Saturday morning dawned, that morning on which <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb280" href="#pb280">280</a>]</span>Mrs. Claus applied the
+          restoratives so abundantly, and so efficaciously.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wonder where in the world the boy can be so long?&rdquo; said
+          the mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose he got up very early; and then maybe she
+          had him to read a chapter out of the Bible at breakfast.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This explanation by Stoffel quieted the family for half an hour.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How would it do for you to go over there?&rdquo; Juffrouw
+          Pieterse proposed at last.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going, mother. You know it isn&rsquo;t on my way
+          to school.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was a sufficient reason. Never do anything that isn&rsquo;t on
+          your way&mdash;one of the favorite maxims of conservatism. Stoffel
+          himself did not know how profound was the wisdom of his political
+          aphorism.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How would it do, then, to send Leentje over to Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s
+          to inquire about Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This proposal met with approval, and Leentje was dispatched forthwith.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, poor Juffrouw Laps! She was &ldquo;the most wretched woman in the
+          world;&rdquo; and the room from which Walter had fled so suddenly was
+          now the temple of all the heterogeneous griefs and pains that
+          novelists ever make use of.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I will not place Walter above Joseph, Theseus, Jason or Hippolytos.
+          May Apollo preserve me from such blind partiality. Not by any means do
+          I regard my hero as the most interesting mortal that ever left a woman
+          in the lurch. No, not in Walter&rsquo;s worth do I seek for the
+          measure of the forsaken lady&rsquo;s despair. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb281" href="#pb281">281</a>]</span>Indeed, Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s
+          pain was not caused by any reflections as to the beauty or excellence
+          of the vanished knight. There was another element in the matter that
+          was filling her with horror and driving her to distraction. With all
+          due respect for the suffering of other abandoned ladies, Asnath,
+          Ariadne, Medea, Phaedra&mdash;but Juffrouw Laps had to face Walter&rsquo;s
+          family. That was the trouble.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Her fertile brain evolved the most wonderful plans. How would it do
+          for her to tell that he had been carried away in a fiery chariot
+          before the eyes of the people, like Elias of old? She discarded the
+          idea, for fear that no one would believe it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At first she had waited at the window, watching for her little Theseus
+          to return. When she saw him no more she thought that perhaps the mob
+          had carried him off with them. That was not an unpleasant thought;
+          since her fear for his return to his family was greater than her
+          desire for his return to her. This is easily understood: what might he
+          not tell at home?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was already daylight; but Juffrouw Laps knew that it was too early
+          to go to the Pieterses&rsquo;. Besides, what would she say? That her
+          little knight had run away during the night? And why? Whither? How did
+          she know but that he had already told the story in all its details?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She determined&mdash;not to determine upon anything, and to leave the
+          matter with the &ldquo;Master&rdquo; for the present. With this pious
+          resolve she climbed into her maidenly bed; and, before falling asleep,
+          she groaned: &ldquo;If the rascal had only broken his neck, like the
+          high priest Eli, in First Samuel, 4!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb282" href="#pb282">282</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No doubt the Master saw the distress of his faithful disciple and
+          taught her how to meet the situation that awaited her waking; for
+          Leentje soon returned with the assurance of Juffrouw Laps that Walter
+          was out taking a morning walk.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In a way, this was the truth. The Juffrouw merely neglected to add why
+          he was taking a walk, and at what hour in the morning he had gone out.
+          Leentje, suspecting nothing, asked no questions. For her it was a
+          &ldquo;matter of course&rdquo; that he would not go out in the middle
+          of the night.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The family now regarded the incident as fresh evidence of Walter&rsquo;s
+          objectionable habit of roving, and nothing more. They felt no anxiety
+          for his personal safety.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There it is again!&rdquo; said the mother. &ldquo;The trouble
+          and vexation I have with that boy. Anybody else would sit down for a
+          while after breakfast; but he&mdash;what does he do? He runs away
+          before it&rsquo;s hardly daylight. Is that any way to do, Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And to leave us here anxious and worrying over him!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;This is a nice caper he&rsquo;s cutting again. He knows very
+          well that we&rsquo;re all uneasy and won&rsquo;t have a minute&rsquo;s
+          peace till he comes. God only knows where he is.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel could not wait to hear more. It was time for him to go to
+          school.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It may be repeated that there was not a word of truth in all this
+          uneasiness and anxiety. The family <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb283"
+          href="#pb283">283</a>]</span>considered such a display to be the
+          proper thing; though, for the rest, they did not manifest the
+          slightest interest in Walter&rsquo;s fate. For aught they knew some
+          accident might have happened to the boy; but, instead of making a
+          serious effort to find out what had become of him, his mother found it
+          easier to accuse him of indecorous conduct and general worthlessness.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus matters remained until Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s carriage drove up
+          before Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s door that afternoon and Kaatje
+          alighted with her message. After the recent fright Walter had given
+          her, she was glad enough to escape from such close proximity to the
+          young lunatic. For thus she regarded him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All rushed to the window.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There he is; there he is!&rdquo; cried the whole family in a
+          breath, and as loud as they could. &ldquo;Did you ever! Really, he&rsquo;s
+          sitting there in Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s carriage.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This flattering observation banished everything else from their
+          thoughts, and made Kaatje&rsquo;s task an easy one. It was now a
+          simple matter for her to allay their fears. They were no longer
+          concerned to know where Walter <i>had been</i>. It was enough that he
+          was now in Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s carriage.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ate breakfast at the doctor&rsquo;s? Girl, you don&rsquo;t say
+          so! And&mdash;and&mdash;why isn&rsquo;t the coachman wearing his furs?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Kaatje was dumbfounded and could only stammer some reference to the
+          season. In fact, the manner in which her message was being received
+          strengthened her worst suspicions of Walter&rsquo;s sanity. It seemed
+          to her that the entire family was a little &ldquo;off.&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb284" href="#pb284">284</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And he really ate breakfast at the doctor&rsquo;s? Do you
+          understand, Trudie? Ate breakfast at Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, he ate breakfast with us. To be sure he did. The doctor
+          himself said so.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;At Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s, and ate breakfast there?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, certainly. Where else?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And did he use the good manners I&rsquo;ve taught him?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course, Juffrouw! But&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And is he now in the carriage with the doctor?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, Juffrouw&mdash;naturally!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Listen, my dear,&rdquo; continued the proud mother, &ldquo;I am
+          going to tell you something; but you need not repeat it to anybody
+          else. Don&rsquo;t you know, that&rsquo;s an unusual child!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; sighed Kaatje, thoroughly convinced, &ldquo;I know
+          it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You know it, don&rsquo;t you? And do you know why? I&rsquo;m
+          going to tell you. He&rsquo;s an unusual child, because&mdash;Pietro,
+          move away a little, and you, too, Mina. Trudie, you can stay where you
+          are, but pay attention to your knitting!&mdash;he&rsquo;s an unusual
+          child, don&rsquo;t you know, because, before he was born, you
+          understand&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, Juffrouw!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, my dear, I dreamed of a butterfly; and it was dragging off
+          an elephant! You understand now?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, yes, Juffrouw. I understand exactly.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see? That&rsquo;s the reason. Give the doctor
+          my politest regards, and thank him for me. If <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb285" href="#pb285">285</a>]</span>he&rsquo;s only well-behaved&mdash;I
+          mean Walter. And the coachman wears such a fur cap only in the winter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Kaatje managed to escape, fully resolved never to dream of elephants
+          and butterflies. Such an indulgence seemed to her to be particularly
+          dangerous; for she now began to think in all seriousness that the
+          whole family was crazy, and that what she had seen in Walter was
+          merely a sample of the general disorder.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When a few hours later the doctor himself stopped at Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s,
+          her joy over Walter&rsquo;s exaltation know no bounds. Holsma took
+          note of the stupid woman&rsquo;s foibles and follies, and resolved to
+          prescribe an intellectual diet for Walter that would counteract their
+          influence.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Poor Juffrouw Laps! If she had only known how happily everything had
+          turned out, how much worry she might have spared herself! In the
+          seclusion of her own room she was still quoting the Bible and fighting
+          for her honor. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb286" href="#pb286">286</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch32" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXXII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The reader is now invited to return to the theatre party, from which
+          he was called suddenly away by the anxiety experienced in certain
+          quarters over Walter&rsquo;s disappearance.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The family took their seats, in the parquet this time, having had to
+          give up their box to visiting potentates. The box was still
+          unoccupied.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A comedy!&rdquo; Walter thought. He looked about him and
+          listened.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The house was crowded, and everyone was talking. Backstairs gossip and
+          court scandals were passed around. People were wondering who would sit
+          there, and who would sit <i>there</i>. Later arrivals were pushing at
+          one another and quarreling about seats.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The programs for the princes are printed on silk. What do you
+          suppose it cost a yard?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Rotgans is one of the first poets!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Hm! Better say one of the second.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He&rsquo;s a poet of the seventh class.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, then, one of his plays? We have poets whose song is as
+          clear as a bell!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course, Bilderdyk! A Ph&oelig;nix!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, these foreigners don&rsquo;t understand a word of it
+          anyway, and it doesn&rsquo;t make any difference what the play is.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a pity about Floris.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb287" href="#pb287">287</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, there&rsquo;s something behind that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Bilderdyk is a patriot.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A genuine Hollander!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A genuine&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He will give those foreigners something to think about.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh!&mdash;&mdash; ... not much flattery. No Hollander is going
+          to do that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Everybody stood up. A footman appeared in the royal box, probably to
+          see whether the cushions were straight on the chairs, or not.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The idea, the very idea of standing up before a lackey!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was enough to make them indignant; but they had done it, even those
+          who protested loudest. There were city aldermen in the number, and
+          doctors, and professors, and prominent business men, including,
+          perhaps, the great Kopperlith.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Another period of babbling and waiting; then another footman appeared.
+          Again everybody sprang to his feet. Again all, except the silent
+          Holsmas, railed at such stupidity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The crowd became more restless. Innumerable times were they fooled by
+          some footman or other, who opened a door to break the monotony. The
+          people were already beginning to complain, but softly, cautiously.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was carried away with the elegance and magnificence of it all.
+          One thing, however, jarred upon his sense of propriety: he wondered
+          how such swell folk could say such commonplace things. The <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb288" href="#pb288">288</a>]</span>Holsmas
+          said nothing. Only once, when Uncle Sybrand pointed to a certain box,
+          did they join in the general hubbub.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She will sit there, I think.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I shall be sorry if I have left little Erich all for nothing,&rdquo;
+          said Mevrouw Holsma.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He&rsquo;s safe with Femke.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, but I had rather be with him myself. The child is sick. I&rsquo;m
+          not going to wait much longer.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s doubtful whether she will come with the others. I&rsquo;ve
+          heard that she&rsquo;s full of moods and mischief. She cares nothing
+          for convention. It seems to run in the blood.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If she isn&rsquo;t here by ten o&rsquo;clock I&rsquo;m going. I
+          don&rsquo;t care much about it, anyway.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This conversation occupied Walter for a short time. Who was this
+          person on whose account Mevrouw Holsma had left the bedside of her
+          sick child?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The tension of expectancy was broken, and a momentary excitement
+          pulsed through the multitude. All arose to their feet, and remained
+          standing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          An emperor, or something of the kind, entered the royal box. Walter
+          could see little; but he inferred what was going on from whisperings
+          he heard about him. His majesty had made a quick rush for his chair,
+          turning over a few other chairs in so doing. That was a habit of his.
+          Then he looked about the auditorium for a moment with squinted eyes,
+          jerked up his chair and fell into it. He was in a hurry. The public
+          was now at liberty to take their seats.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The other boxes were now filled quickly, as if by a stroke of magic.
+          Remarkable costumes were on <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb289"
+          href="#pb289">289</a>]</span>exhibition. There were bodices three
+          inches wide, with skirts of as many yards. Voluptuous bosoms hovered
+          between chin and girdle. Scanty sleevelets did not know whether they
+          were to cover arms or shoulders. The ladies wore kid gloves reaching
+          to their armpits, and on their heads were turbans and flower-gardens.
+          The uniforms of the gentlemen were even more conspicuous. Those
+          shakos! The enemy would have run at the sight of them.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The orchestra began to play. It was that song about the brave Dunois,
+          of course.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Arise!&rdquo; someone called; and all scrambled to their feet
+          again in honor of the brave hero.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The curtain went up.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Yes, Minos, on the present that I gave to thee&mdash;&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            &rsquo;Twas stolen from the church&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What church?&rdquo; asked Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh!&rdquo; from William. &ldquo;Poetic license. You will see
+          how it is.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &rdquo;&mdash;&mdash;hangs Nisus&rsquo; crown and life.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;<span lang="fr">Qu&rsquo;est-ze qu&rsquo;elle changte?</span>&rdquo;
+          cried the countess-palatine. Then she let herself out on costumes,
+          speaking in a noisy voice.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter listened like a finch. Not that he understood very well; but
+          everything strange interested him intensely.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Not a soul was touched by the tragic bravery of King Minos; no one was
+          listening. Poor Rotgans! Afterwards it was said that Napoleon had been
+          especially pleased with &ldquo;our Snoel&rdquo; and with &ldquo;our
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb290" href="#pb290">290</a>]</span>Watlier.&rdquo;
+          Goodness, Napoleon! When he was to be crowned he had Talma the mimic
+          to drill him for the ceremony&mdash;instead of saying to Talma:
+          &ldquo;Look, this is the way an emperor appears when he&rsquo;s
+          crowned!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter listened attentively; even though he sometimes felt that he
+          could make such verses himself.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          During the performance another commotion arose. One of their majesties
+          had asked for a glass of orange lemonade; and this was something the
+          buffetier did not have. A runner was dispatched to the drug-store post
+          haste. He returned with a bottle of lemon-syrup. The situation became
+          threatening. The news spread like fire that they were making a &ldquo;Majesty&rdquo;
+          wait for such a trifle. King Minos declared:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Feelings of pleasure thrill my inner man&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;<span lang="fr">De l&rsquo;eau de fleur d&rsquo;orange! que
+          diantre!</span>&rdquo; cried a chamberlain. And Minos noticed that
+          nobody was interested in what was going on in his interior.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A confectioner up on &ldquo;Olympus&rdquo; allowed his light to flash
+          out and gave some valuable information; but the police had him by the
+          collar in a jiffy. He was to be dragged away and put in confinement
+          for the present. The technical charge was, &ldquo;Making a
+          demonstration for the House of Orange.&rdquo; At that time the House
+          of Orange was in exile, and Napoleon&rsquo;s brother was king of
+          Holland.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Feelings of pleasure thrill my inner man&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          repeated Minos with gusto. The conductor of the orchestra seized his
+          baton and was going to play, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb291"
+          href="#pb291">291</a>]</span>&ldquo;Hail to the Emperor.&rdquo; Many
+          stood up in readiness to escape in case of danger.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In the meantime the prisoner was screaming as if he were possessed;
+          but the two Italian police that Napoleon had brought with him could
+          not understand a word.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The emperor himself had forgotten that he had called for orange water
+          and was now engrossed in a military map.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Qu&rsquo; a-t-il?&rdquo; he seemed to be asking the lady next
+          to him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Minos had begun again and was once more repeating his assurance that
+          &ldquo;feelings of pleasure thrill&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter noted that the grown-up members of the Holsma party did not pay
+          the slightest attention to the play.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If she doesn&rsquo;t come soon, I&rsquo;m going,&rdquo; Mevrouw
+          Holsma repeated.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Perhaps she&rsquo;s sitting further back in the emperor&rsquo;s
+          box, where we can&rsquo;t see her.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve heard that in Paris she never stays fifteen minutes
+          in the same place. Maybe we shall find her somewhere else,&rdquo;
+          remarked another.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am not going to wait but five minutes longer. My little Erich
+          is worth more to me than a thousand cousins&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of the king,&rdquo; added Holsma.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had thought that they meant Femke. What, then, could be so
+          interesting about the princess? The boxes were full of them.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At the close of the third act Mevrouw Holsma left with Uncle Sybrand,
+          who was to return with Femke. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb292"
+          href="#pb292">292</a>]</span>&ldquo;If she will come,&rdquo; he said.
+          &ldquo;For she cares nothing for such a fuss.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter knew better. Uncle Sybrand ought to have seen her in the
+          &ldquo;Juniper Berry.&rdquo; But a knight tells no tales.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Old Minos is insanely in love with Ismene, who is so beautiful and
+          virtuous. Scylla is insanely in love with Minos, who is old and
+          dignified. Ismene is in love with Focus, who is a hero; and, possibly,
+          Focus loves Ismene, though he does not treat her quite gallantly. He
+          says to her:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they&rsquo;re odious!<span
+            class="corr" id="xd0e6328" title="Not in source">&rdquo;</span>
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          The tumult on Mount Olympus began afresh. Had the rebellious
+          confectioner returned? All eyes were directed toward the gallery. A
+          policeman in uniform was seen remonstrating in vain with some men on
+          the front seat. In order to make them understand his French, or
+          Italian, he was pulling at their arms. They were to understand that he
+          did not want to arrest them, or kill them, but merely wanted them to
+          give up their seats.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they&rsquo;re odious!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Qu&rsquo; y a-t-il encore?&rdquo; asked the emperor again; and,
+          when one of the chamberlains answered his question, he laughed
+          heartily. Heads were together everywhere. Something interesting was
+          going forward on Mount Olympus. People whispered and tittered and
+          laughed outright. Their eyes were fastened on the gallery. Even the
+          emperor stood up and leaned out of his box. But it did no good: he
+          could not see around the corner. He was surprised at this. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb293" href="#pb293">293</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The countess-palatine, however, had got to the bottom of the matter.
+          She was exchanging telegraphic messages with someone in the background
+          on Mount Olympus. No one was thinking of Rotgans&rsquo; play.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She was greeting someone with that famous fan. Whom? The rebellious
+          confectioner? With arms extended she was testifying that there was
+          something extraordinary up there among that rabble.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they&rsquo;re odious!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          The countess-palatine threw off all restraint, and laughed and
+          laughed. After the emperor had laughed hilarity was permissible. Her
+          pleasure was beyond her control.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I should have to have a double pen to report what Uncle Sybrand said
+          on his return, and, at the same time, reproduce the exclamation that
+          escaped Walter, who was looking towards the gallery with eyes and
+          mouth wide open.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where is Femke?&rdquo; asked Holsma.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She didn&rsquo;t want to come,&rdquo; replied Uncle Sybrand.
+          &ldquo;Just as I said.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There she is!&rdquo; cried Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Who?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke, M&rsquo;neer, Femke, Femke&mdash;that is Femke! And she&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl above had taken hold of the policeman by the collar and,
+          pushing him to one side, had pressed forward to the front row. There
+          she had seated herself on the laps of the fellows the policeman had
+          been <span class="corr" id="xd0e6361" title="Source: negotiationg">
+          negotiating</span> with in vain. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb294"
+          href="#pb294">294</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It is Femke, M&rsquo;neer. If only they don&rsquo;t hurt her!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again the emperor stood up and stared at Mount Olympus. He saw the
+          girl with the North Holland cap and nodded to her. The
+          countess-palatine greeted again with her fan, as if she would
+          congratulate her on securing the seat.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, M&rsquo;neer, it is Femke,&rdquo; cried Walter, amazed
+          that he received no answer.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Even Holsma and Sybrand were surprised, but not so much so as Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Now, children,&rdquo; said Holsma, &ldquo;you can tell your
+          mother that we saw her.&rdquo; And to Walter he continued, &ldquo;That
+          girl is a relation of ours.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Femke!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, that isn&rsquo;t her name; and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;M&rsquo;neer, don&rsquo;t I know Femke?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That sounded quite different from what Walter had said that evening
+          when he &ldquo;denied&rdquo; her.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl&rsquo;s big blue eyes, roving about the hall, suddenly fell
+          on Walter. She bent over, looked him attentively in the face, then
+          nodded to him and threw him a kiss.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At least, he thought it was that way; and it was that way. But
+          everyone in the parquet thought that the kiss had been intended for
+          him. Folk of quality were annoyed at the insolence of the peasant
+          wench; while more &ldquo;sporty&rdquo; persons returned the attention.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Soon hissing was heard. The news had leaked out that Princess Erika,
+          the cousin of the king, had dressed in the national costume to show
+          her affection for the people. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb295"
+          href="#pb295">295</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you believe it, M&rsquo;neer? I tell you that is
+          Femke,&rdquo; Walter assured him with tears in his eyes.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, my boy. That girl is not Femke.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, she greeted me!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You saw the emperor greet her; and you know he would not salute
+          a wash-girl.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was perhaps true; but it was hard for Walter to accept it. And,
+          on the other hand, it was just as hard for him to believe that the
+          princess was a cousin of the Holsmas.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again he imagined that the girl was nodding to him and motioning her
+          lips. It looked to him as if she said: &ldquo;My brother!&rdquo;
+          Walter lisped the words after her and pressed both hands to his
+          breast.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, now he had it! They considered him a little daft and wanted to
+          cure him of his fixed idea. That would explain the visit to the
+          theatre and also Femke&rsquo;s alleged unwillingness to come with
+          Uncle Sybrand. But&mdash;how did she dare to interfere with the
+          policeman? And the greeting from the emperor? And how did Holsma know
+          that he had &ldquo;denied&rdquo; Femke, and that her presence could
+          threaten his peace of mind?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, M&rsquo;neer, let Femke sit here! I will be perfectly
+          quiet. I am so afraid she will get hurt up there among those men.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Holsma looked at him wistfully. After all, could Kaatje have been
+          right about it? He sought to distract Walter&rsquo;s attention by
+          referring to other things; but it was useless.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Holsma at last &ldquo;I just wanted to
+          tease you a little. Femke is sitting up there, because <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb296" href="#pb296">296</a>]</span>she&mdash;doesn&rsquo;t
+          wish to sit here. She thinks that it wouldn&rsquo;t be proper, because
+          she&rsquo;s only a wash-girl. She&rsquo;s afraid we would be ashamed.
+          You see?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;M&rsquo;neer, no one need be ashamed to sit by her. Not even
+          the emperor.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; agreed Holsma. &ldquo;Quite so. Femke is a
+          brave girl and doesn&rsquo;t need to cringe before anybody. Watch the
+          play, my boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was willing to do what the doctor said, but not without taking
+          leave of that glorious apparition. He looked up; and she smiled to him
+          again. Then she took from her breast a rose branch, with three buds on
+          it, held it <span class="corr" id="xd0e6418" title="Not in source">a</span>
+          moment between the forefinger and thumb of her left hand, pointed to
+          Walter with her right and let it fall.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The rosebuds landed on the bald pate of a stout gentleman near the
+          Holsma party. He seized them and examined them admiringly; but, before
+          he could decide what to do with them, Walter had sprung over half a
+          dozen chairs and deprived him of the precious property. With a glance
+          toward Olympus, Walter pressed the roses to his lips. Princess Erika
+          nodded approval; and the playful countess-palatine applauded lustily.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was more than Walter could bear. He had never forgiven himself
+          for denying her; but she, the noble, the big-hearted, the majestic
+          one!&mdash;she had proclaimed her pardon publicly before the people.
+          And that was why she preferred to sit in the gallery. She had washed
+          away the black spots from his soul; she had restored his soiled
+          chivalry. These thoughts flashed through Walter&rsquo;s mind like
+          lightning. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb297" href="#pb297">297</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He sank to the floor in a faint. But was it any wonder?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Holsmas took him home with them for the night; and another message
+          was sent to Juffrouw Pieterse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see, Stoffel? Just as I said! I don&rsquo;t
+          care if <span class="corr" id="xd0e6432" title="Source: eveybody">
+          everybody</span> knows it. He&rsquo;s simply living at Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s.
+          Trudie, don&rsquo;t forget when Leentje goes to the grocer&rsquo;s&mdash;&mdash;
+          Upon my soul, he&rsquo;s at Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s all the time!&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb298" href="#pb298">298</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch33" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXXIII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The next morning, Sunday, the doctor invited Walter into his study. He
+          spoke to him sympathetically and encouraged the boy to lay his case
+          before him; though he avoided everything that might make Walter
+          believe that his experiences were anything extraordinary. He already
+          knew more about it than Walter could tell. Even Walter&rsquo;s
+          adventure with Juffrouw Laps was perfectly transparent to him. There
+          was nothing lost to him because of the boy&rsquo;s lack of skill in
+          handling the story.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          While Walter poured out to him his inner experiences, Holsma listened
+          quietly, as if it was all familiar to him. Walter&rsquo;s reverence
+          and passion for the good he interpreted as a commonplace phenomenon
+          incident to budding youth. He treated the boy&rsquo;s love for Femke
+          as an ordinary matter. He admitted that it had been exactly the same
+          way with him when he was a boy&mdash;a method that few parents and
+          educators seem to be familiar with.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, certainly, my boy. In such moods a fellow would like
+          to be everywhere at the same time, ruling, regulating and putting
+          things into order. He feels that he&rsquo;s responsible for
+          everything; and it hurts him to see so much crookedness in the world.
+          I know very well how it is. But you must consider the means <span
+          class="pagenum"> [<a id="pb299" href="#pb299">299</a>]</span>and
+          remedies at your disposal. How are you going to begin to improve
+          things?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was silent.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you think that everyone is bad? I suppose you hardly think
+          that. There are plenty of people in the world who wish for the same
+          things that you are worrying about. Why don&rsquo;t they change the
+          world?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again Walter was silent. The very simplicity with which Holsma put the
+          question disconcerted him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will try to help you out. Do you believe that I am a good
+          man?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, yes!&rdquo; cried Walter enthusiastically.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You think so? Well, I think so too. I should be ashamed not to
+          be able to say that. Why don&rsquo;t I reform the world? You often
+          speak of Africa. That&rsquo;s because you don&rsquo;t know that
+          country, my boy. And I, who am a good man, have not abolished slavery.
+          Why not, do you suppose?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter returned no answer. Holsma was busy with a surgical operation.
+          Is it any wonder that the patient tried to withdraw the member that
+          was being cut away?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will present the matter to you differently. Do you hear that
+          knocking and hammering? Listen! That comes from the blacksmith&rsquo;s
+          shop over there. It isn&rsquo;t so bad on Sunday; but you can easily
+          imagine that the noise sometimes disturbs me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;In case of sickness!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and also when I wish to think. And then I should like to
+          see the blacksmiths swept away&mdash;quick&mdash;just like that! But
+          why don&rsquo;t I do it?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb300"
+          href="#pb300">300</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Because&mdash;because you can&rsquo;t, M&rsquo;neer.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Quite right. For the same reason I have not yet corrected any
+          of the wrongs in Africa. Nor in Asia; nor in America; nor in other
+          countries that I might mention. But yesterday evening, when you were
+          taken sick in the theatre, I brought you home with me and put you to
+          bed. Then I sent a messenger to quiet your mother. That was my duty,
+          wasn&rsquo;t it?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No thanks, my boy. It seemed to me to be my duty; and I did it&mdash;because
+          I could. Whatever is impossible, is not my duty; and that&rsquo;s the
+          reason I don&rsquo;t take those blacksmiths between my thumb and
+          forefinger and transport them to some other clime. For the same reason
+          I don&rsquo;t fret over doings in Africa. Impossible duty is no duty;
+          and running after the impossible interferes with the performance of
+          real duties. At school did you ever fail to know a lesson?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh yes, very often! But not lately; because Femke&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Leave Femke out of account for the present. I may say something
+          about her another time. When you were neglecting your books at school,
+          you were thinking of other things, things far removed from your work.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That is a mistake that many young people make&mdash;don&rsquo;t
+          be offended: I did the same thing&mdash;and usually on account of
+          laziness. It is more convenient to imagine one&rsquo;s self soaring
+          over the distant mountain top than to lift a foot and step over the
+          stone just in front of one. Of all the million things that you would
+          like to do there are only a very few that you can do. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb301" href="#pb301">301</a>]</span>Busy
+          yourself with these few. That is the way to succeed. Whatever comes
+          up, always ask: &lsquo;What is my immediate duty?&rsquo; Will you
+          promise to do this?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter gave Holsma his hand on it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you would like to know more, my boy? I would, too. What
+          lies before you? Well, you are behind in your studies. Other boys of
+          your age know more. We will speak of that again, however; for that is
+          something to be attended to later, and does not come under the head of
+          immediate duty. That smattering of Latin, for which you envy William,
+          you can acquire in a few months, when once you&rsquo;ve learned how to
+          use your will. The enemies you have to fight now are quite different
+          from the knights of your romances. Do not underestimate the
+          difficulties you will have to contend with. That might result in your
+          defeat. You must learn to use your intellectual faculties at will; and
+          keep a firm grip on &lsquo;Fancy,&rsquo; or else she will throw you
+          head over heels. Dreaming is not living.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter nodded assent.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;True manliness,&rdquo; Holsma continued, &ldquo;means, to do
+          what has to be done, no difference how insignificant it may be. What
+          would you think of a lot of knights, who let tramps beat them over the
+          heads because their code of honor did not allow them to fight with
+          tramps? You are going into business now: come to me in a month and
+          tell me if you have kept your word. Then we will speak further; but&mdash;that
+          first! Will you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly I shall keep my word, M&rsquo;neer. But, M&rsquo;neer,
+          may I ask&mdash;&mdash;?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb302"
+          href="#pb302">302</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;About Femke? Well, that is a good, brave girl. She&rsquo;s a
+          cousin of mine.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But how did she happen to be&mdash;&mdash;?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The young lady in the theatre wasn&rsquo;t Femke. That was
+          Princess Erika. We wanted to see her because her ancestors were
+          related to ours. You rogue, you! There was nothing special about that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A real princess?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes; and Femke is a real wash-girl. I hope that Princess Erika
+          has as admirable a character as Femke. But don&rsquo;t attribute too
+          much importance to this, my boy. Such differences in related families
+          are of frequent occurrence, whether one notices them, or not. There
+          was a time when Erika&rsquo;s forefathers dressed themselves in skins;
+          and mine did the same. We don&rsquo;t know whether she is aware that
+          she has relations here or not. Uncle Sybrand found out&mdash;well, he
+          takes a sort of pleasure in tracing out the identity of opposites.
+          Rightly understood, the world is smaller than you imagine; everything
+          is a link in the same sequence. Who knows but that you may turn the
+          course of history to-morrow, when you go to work for&mdash;what is the
+          style of the firm?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ouwetyd &amp; Kopperlith.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, when you go to work for Ouwetyd &amp; Kopperlith. But,
+          whether it&rsquo;s to be an historical event, or not, perform your
+          immediate duty. That is the chivalrous, manly thing for you to do&mdash;if
+          you will take my advice. Will you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, M&rsquo;neer! But&mdash;Femke?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There you go again! She has nothing to do with <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb303" href="#pb303">303</a>]</span>your
+          immediate duty. The lady that you must attend upon and serve
+          faithfully is&mdash;who?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do <span class="corr" id="xd0e6515" title="Source: your"> you</span>
+          mean &lsquo;Business&rsquo;?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Right. If you are determined to know more about Femke, I will
+          tell you what she says. She says that for the present you must think
+          of nothing but your work.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, I will, I will!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;For about ten years.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ten years? Ten?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, that is what she said when she heard how little you know
+          and how little you can do.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ten years?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, that is what she said. Perhaps eight, perhaps twelve,
+          perhaps twenty. One cannot say exactly beforehand. You understand
+          that, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ten years!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So she said.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Good. It will give me pleasure&mdash;and Femke, too. Don&rsquo;t
+          imagine it will be particularly difficult. Ten years ago thousands
+          began just where you will begin to-morrow; and they are still alive.
+          So, you see, it can be done. Besides, think only of the first month;
+          and then the time will seem shorter. I shall expect you to come to see
+          me in about a month; then we shall have more to say.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Before Walter left, he promised again to banish all boyish follies
+          from his thoughts. But he put away the rosebuds; and he kept them.
+        </p>
+      </div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="back">
+      <div class="transcribernote">
+        <h2>
+          Colophon
+        </h2>
+        <h3>
+          Availability
+        </h3>
+        <p>
+          This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+          almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+          re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+          with this eBook or online at <a class="exlink" title="External link"
+          href="http://www.gutenberg.org/">www.gutenberg.org</a>.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This eBook is produced by the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+          <a class="exlink" title="External link" href="http://www.pgdp.net/">
+          www.pgdp.net</a>.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The text is based on the scans made available by Google Books <a
+          class="exlink" title="External link"
+          href="http://books.google.com/books?id=dqAuAAAAMAAJ">1</a> and <a
+          class="exlink" title="External link"
+          href="http://books.google.com/books?id=nC5MAAAAMAAJ">2</a>. The first
+          set of scans are also available via the <a class="exlink"
+          title="External link"
+          href="http://www.archive.org/details/walterpietersea00multgoog">
+          Internet Archive</a>.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A Dutch version, <i><a class="pglink"
+          title="Link to Project Gutenberg ebook"
+          href="http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/23796">Woutertje Pieterse</a></i>
+          is also available in Project Gutenberg. Note that due to the
+          complicated publication history of this work, as explained in the
+          introduction here, this text only partly corresponds to the Dutch
+          version. Furthermore, the translator has taken certain liberties in
+          omitting materials.
+        </p>
+        <h3>
+          Encoding
+        </h3>
+        <h3>
+          Revision History
+        </h3>
+        <ol class="lsoff">
+          <li>
+            2009-09-28 Started.
+          </li>
+        </ol>
+        <h3>
+          External References
+        </h3>
+        <p>
+          This Project Gutenberg eBook contains external references. These links
+          may not work for you.
+        </p>
+        <h3>
+          Corrections
+        </h3>
+        <p>
+          The following corrections have been applied to the text:
+        </p>
+        <table width="75%" summary="Overview of corrections applied to the text.">
+          <tr>
+            <th>
+              Page
+            </th>
+            <th>
+              Source
+            </th>
+            <th>
+              Correction
+            </th>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e511">2</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &ldquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e514">2</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &rdquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e554">4</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              be
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e622">10</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              ,
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              :
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e857">25</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              arrangemnet
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              arrangement
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e955">32</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Pickeled
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Pickled
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1140">43</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              for
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              if
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1211">44</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              aquiescence
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              acquiescence
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1308">47</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &ldquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1431">54</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              ,
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1470">55</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              .
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              ,
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1551">59</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              resectable
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              respectable
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1620">63</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              interupt
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              interrupt
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2035">79</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              undestand
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              understand
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2111">82</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Price
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Prince
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2265">89</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &rdquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2330">91</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              indiscribable
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              indescribable
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2819">113</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              H&uuml;lshoff
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Hulshoff
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2822">113</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Hellendoorm
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Hellendoorn
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2854">115</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              ,
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              .
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2999">126</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &ldquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3066">129</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              neighbourhood
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              neighborhood
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3079">129</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              come
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              came
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3409">144</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              By
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              by
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3440">146</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              know
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              known
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3490">148</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Bilderdijk
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Bilderdyk
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3497">149</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Riding-hood
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Riding Hood
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3980">178</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              minature
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              miniature
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4168">189</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Juffrow
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Juffrouw
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4214">194</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &ldquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4250">196</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              spirts
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              spirits
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4696">216</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &rdquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4729">218</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              parobolic
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              parabolic
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4780">220</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Sietska
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Sietske
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4915">227</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              family, the female part, of course, was still in the
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              young people need during eight hours without suf
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5104">237</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              women
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              woman
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5165">240</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              way
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              away
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5175">240</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &ldquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5559">256</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              ,
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              .
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5600">258</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              descendent
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              descendant
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5971">275</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &rdquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e6049">279</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              stupdity
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              stupidity
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e6328">292</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &rdquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e6361">293</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              negotiationg
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              negotiating
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e6418">296</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              a
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e6432">297</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              eveybody
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              everybody
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e6515">303</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              your
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              you
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+        </table>
+      </div>
+    </div>
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30135 ***</div>
+  </body>
+</html>
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
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--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
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--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #30135 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30135)
diff --git a/old/30135-0.txt b/old/30135-0.txt
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Walter Pieterse, by Multatuli
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: Walter Pieterse
+
+Author: Multatuli
+
+Translator: Hubert Evans
+
+Release Date: September 29, 2009 [eBook #30135]
+[Most recently updated: January 15, 2021]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: The Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WALTER PIETERSE ***
+
+
+
+
+
+                            Walter Pieterse
+                           A Story of Holland
+
+                                  By
+                               Multatuli
+                         (Eduard Douwes Dekker)
+
+                             Translated by
+                          Hubert Evans, Ph. D.
+
+
+
+                                New York
+                           Friderici & Gareis
+                       6 East Seventeenth Street
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                            Copyright, 1904,
+                                   By
+                           Friderici & Gareis
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+Most of us know that The Hague is somewhere in Holland; and we all
+know that Queen Wilhelmina takes a beautiful picture; but to how many
+of us has it occurred that the land of Spinoza and Rembrandt is still
+running a literary shop?
+
+How many of us have ever heard of Eduard Douwes Dekker? Very few,
+I fear, except professional critics. And yet, the man who, forty
+years ago, became famous as Multatuli (I have borne much), was not
+only the greatest figure in the modern literature of the Netherlands,
+but one of the most powerful and original writers in the literature
+of the world. An English critic has called him the Heine of Holland;
+Anatole France calls him the Voltaire of the Netherlands.
+
+Eduard Douwes Dekker was born in 1820, at Amsterdam, his father being
+the captain of a merchantman trading in the Dutch colonies. At the age
+of eighteen Dekker sailed on his father's vessel for the East Indies,
+determined to abandon the business career that had been mapped out for
+him and enter the colonial service. In 1839 he received a clerkship
+in the civil service at Batavia. He now remained in the employ of
+the government for seventeen years, being promoted from one grade to
+another until he was made Assistant Resident of Lebak in 1856.
+
+In this important position he used his influence to better the
+condition of the natives; but, to his sorrow, he soon found that he
+did not have the support of his superiors. What he conceived to be
+right clashed with the line of conduct he was expected to follow. In
+a rash moment of "righteous indignation" he handed in his resignation;
+and it was accepted.
+
+This hasty step put an end to a brilliant political career and entailed
+upon Dekker years of disappointment and hardship. Seeing that he was
+pursuing the wrong method to help either the Javanese, or himself,
+he immediately tried to get reinstated, but without success. In 1857
+he returned to Holland and applied to the home government, hoping to
+be vindicated and restored to his post. Again he was disappointed. The
+government offered him another desirable position; but, as it was a
+matter of principle with Dekker, he declined it.
+
+When he saw that it was useless to importune the government further,
+Dekker made his appeal to the people in "Max Havelaar" (1860). The book
+was an instant success and made the name of Multatuli famous. Through
+the perfidy of a supposed friend, however, Dekker failed to get very
+substantial material rewards from this work. For ten years yet he
+was struggling with poverty.
+
+The Bohemian life that Dekker was now compelled to live--his family
+was on the sufferance of friends--estranged him from his wife and
+strengthened what some might call an unfortunate--or, at least, an
+untimely--literary friendship that Dekker had formed with a certain
+Miss Mimi Schepel, of The Hague. The spiritual affinity between the
+two soon developed a passion that neither could resist. This estimable
+lady, who afterwards became Dekker's second wife, is still living,
+and has edited Dekker's letters in nine volumes. Dekker died in
+February, 1887, at his home in Nieder-Ingelheim, where he had lived
+for several years.
+
+The "Woutertje Pieterse" story was first published in Dekker's
+seven volume work entitled "Ideen." Here it is sandwiched in between
+miscellaneous sketches, essays and treatises, being scattered all
+the way from Vol. I to Vol. VII. The story falls naturally into two
+parts, of which the present volume is the first part. The second part,
+written in a different key, deals with "Walter's Apprenticeship."
+
+A good deal of the flax, or silk, of his Chinaman's pigtail, to use
+Dekker's form of expression, I have unraveled as being extraneous
+matter. However, despite these omissions, it is quite possible that
+some very sensitive person may still find objectionable allusions in
+the book. If so, I must refer that one to the shade of Multatuli. From
+his own admission his shoulders were evidently broad; and, no doubt,
+they will be able to bear the additional strain.
+
+
+                                                        Hubert Evans.
+
+New York City,
+    November, 1904.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+†                                                                  Page
+
+Chapter I
+
+    The origin of the story: regarding poetry, incurable love,
+    false hair, and the hero of the story--The dangers of fame and
+    the advantage of the upper shelf--The Chinaman's pigtail, and
+    the collar of humanity                                            1
+
+Chapter II
+
+    An Italian robber on the "Buitensingel" in Amsterdam--The bitter
+    suffering of the virtuous Amalia--Wax candles, the palisades of
+    morality--The cunning of the little Hallemans--The limitations
+    of space                                                          9
+
+Chapter III
+
+    The difference between a sugar bowl and a Bible--Leentje's virtues
+    and defects--An unfounded suspicion against Pennewip's honor     18
+
+Chapter IV
+
+    The profound silence of Juffrouw Laps--Stoffel's sermon--Walter's
+    fidelity to Glorioso--The last king of Athens--Ruined stomachs
+    and bursted ear-drums                                            24
+
+Chapter V
+
+    How one may become a great man--The cleverness of
+    M'sieu Millaire--Versifying and the art of classifying
+    everything--Hobby-horses                                         27
+
+Chapter VI
+
+    Preparations for a party--The assignment of rÙles--The conflict
+    between wishing and being--Some tricks of fancy--The two
+    sawmills--Amalia and the ducks                                   34
+
+Chapter VII
+
+    Poetry and wigs--The vexation and despair of the latter          42
+
+Chapter VIII
+
+    A tea-evening, and how it began--Some gaps in the author's
+    knowledge--Stoffel's zoˆlogical joke--The cause of the last Punic
+    war--And the advantage of smoking                                48
+
+Chapter IX
+
+    Echoes of the last Punic war--The defeat of Hannibal (Laps)
+    by Scipio (Pennewip)                                             61
+
+Chapter X
+
+    Causes of the tedious peace in Europe, showing the value
+    of a "tea-evening" as a study--Specimens of school-verse
+    concluded--Suitable for society poets and clever children        68
+
+Chapter XI
+
+    Report on the condition of the leading characters after the
+    catastrophe--Walter again: a character-study                     75
+
+Chapter XII
+
+    Leentje as a comforter and questioner--Prince Walter and his
+    dominions                                                        80
+
+Chapter XIII
+
+    Convincing proofs of Walter's improvement--His first invitation--A
+    study in love--Paradise and Peri                                 87
+
+Chapter XIV
+
+    Great changes in the Pieterse family--Walter becomes poet-laureate
+    at the court of Juffrouw Laps--The mountains of Asia--The bridge,
+    Glorioso, and love--again                                       102
+
+Chapter XV
+
+    Walter's dream--A swell coachman--Juffrouw Laps's difficulties
+                                                                    117
+
+Chapter XVI
+
+    Femke hunts for Walter, and finds him under peculiar
+    circumstances--Her adventures by the way                        125
+
+Chapter XVII
+
+    The widower's birthday--Klaasje's poem, and how a surprise may
+    involve further surprises                                       132
+
+Chapter XVIII
+
+    Walter's recovery--The doctor's pictures--Amsterdam dramaturgy
+                                                                    138
+
+Chapter XIX
+
+    Pastors, sermons, and Juffrouw Laps--Chocolate, timidity, and
+    love--The fire that didn't break out--Some details of religious
+    belief                                                          150
+
+Chapter XX
+
+    Our hero calls on the doctor--Some strange happenings--How Walter
+    delivered his present                                           161
+
+Chapter XXI
+
+    Ophelia reaches her destination, and Femke becomes a
+    queen--Walter's first experience "proposing"--Choosing a
+    profession                                                      170
+
+Chapter XXII
+
+    Walter enters the real world--The firm Motto, Business & Co.--The
+    technique of the novel--And the snuff of the Romans             180
+
+Chapter XXIII
+
+    How one may become a "prodigal" by studying the story of the
+    Prodigal Son                                                    194
+
+Chapter XXIV
+
+    Why Walter did not see Femke--The worldliness of a servant of
+    the church--The secret of Father Jansen's deafness in his left
+    ear                                                             201
+
+Chapter XXV
+
+    Kings and doughnuts--How the masses soar and fall--Walter's
+    cowardice and remorse of conscience--A good remedy for the
+    blues                                                           211
+
+Chapter XXVI
+
+    Our hero retires thinking of Princess Erika, to be aroused
+    by robbers and murderers, who are in collusion with Juffrouw
+    Laps                                                            225
+
+Chapter XXVII
+
+    Walter alone with a pious lady, or Juffrouw Laps on the war-path
+                                                                    240
+
+Chapter XXVIII
+
+    A midnight kiss--A wonderful statue in the "Juniper Berry"--
+    Republicans and True Dutch hearts--A sailor with--Femke?        245
+
+Chapter XXIX
+
+    Sunrise on the "Dam"--An exciting encounter with a water-nymph--A
+    letter from heaven--America, a haven for prodigal sons          260
+
+Chapter XXX
+
+    A message from Femke, which Walter fails to understand--Dr. Holsma
+    to the rescue--Femke and family portraits--Femke, and once more
+    Femke                                                           270
+
+Chapter XXXI
+
+    Stoffel's view of the matter--Juffrouw Laps's distress, and
+    Juffrouw Pieterse's elation--Elephants and butterflies, and
+    Kaatje's conception of heredity                                 279
+
+Chapter XXXII
+
+    A theatrical performance under difficulties--The contest between
+    Napoleon and King Minos of Crete--A Goddess on Mt. Olympus--Kisses
+    and rosebuds                                                    286
+
+Chapter XXXIII
+
+    Conclusion                                                      298
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+WALTER PIETERSE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+I don't know the year; but, since the reader will be interested to
+know the time when this story begins, I will give him a few facts to
+serve as landmarks.
+
+My mother complained that provisions were dear, and fuel as well. So
+it must have been before the discovery of Political Economy. Our
+servant-girl married the barber's assistant, who had only one
+leg. "Such a saving of shoe-leather," the good little soul argued. But
+from this fact one might infer that the science of Political Economy
+had already been discovered.
+
+At all events, it was a long time ago. Amsterdam had no sidewalks,
+import duties were still levied, in some civilized countries there were
+still gallows, and people didn't die every day of nervousness. Yes,
+it was a long time ago.
+
+The Hartenstraat! I have never comprehended why this street should
+be called thus. Perhaps it is an error, and one ought to write
+Hertenstraat, or something else. I have never found more "heartiness"
+there than elsewhere; besides, "harts" were not particularly plentiful,
+although the place could boast of a poulterer and dealer in venison.
+
+I haven't been there for a long time, and I only remember that the
+Straat connects two main canal-streets, canals that I would fill up
+if I had the power to make Amsterdam one of the most beautiful cities
+of Europe.
+
+My predilection for Amsterdam, our metropolis, does not make me
+blind to her faults. Among these I would mention first her complete
+inability to serve as the scene of things romantic. One finds here
+no masked Dominos on the street, the common people are everywhere
+open to inspection, no Ghetto, no Templebar, no Chinese quarter,
+no mysterious courtyard. Whoever commits murder is hanged; and the
+girls are called "Mietje" and "Jansje"--everything prose.
+
+It requires courage to begin a story in a place ending with
+"dam." There it is difficult to have "Emeranties" and "HÈloises";
+but even these would be of little use, since all of these belles have
+already been profaned.
+
+How do the French authors manage, though, to dress up their "Margots"
+and "Marions" as ideals and protect their "Henris" and "Ernestes"
+from the trite and trivial? These last remind one of M'sieu Henri or
+M'sieu Erneste just about like our castle embankments remind one of
+filthy water.
+
+Goethe was a courageous man: Gretchen, Kl‰rchen----
+
+But I, in the Hartenstraat!
+
+However, I am not writing a romance; and even if I should write one,
+I don't see why I shouldn't publish it as a true story. For it is
+a true story, the story of one who in his youth was in love with a
+sawmill and had to endure this torture for a long time.
+
+For love is torture, even if it is only love for a sawmill.
+
+It will be seen that the story is going to be quite simple, in fact
+too frail to stand alone. So here and there I am going to plait
+something in with the thread of the narrative, just as the Chinaman
+does with his pigtail when it is too thin. He has no Eau de Lob or
+oil from Macassar--but I admit that I have never found at Macassar
+any berries which yielded the required oil.
+
+To begin, in the Hartenstraat was a book-shop and circulating
+library. A small boy with a city complexion stood on the step and
+seemed to be unable to open the door. It was evident that he was
+trying to do something that was beyond his strength.
+
+He stretched out his hand towards the door knob repeatedly, but
+every time he interrupted this motion either by stopping to pull
+unnecessarily at a big square-cut collar that rested on his shoulders
+like a yoke, or by uselessly lifting his hand to screen an ingenuous
+cough.
+
+He was apparently lost in the contemplation of the pictures that
+covered the panes of glass in the door, turning them into a model
+chart of inconceivable animals, four-cornered trees and impossible
+soldiers. He was glancing continually to one side, like a criminal
+who fears that he is going to be caught in the act. It was manifest
+that he had something in view which must be concealed from passers-by,
+and from posterity, for that matter. His left hand was thrust under
+the skirts of his little coat, clutching convulsively at something
+concealed in his trousers pocket. To look at him one would have
+thought that Walter contemplated a burglary, or something of the kind.
+
+For his name was Walter.
+
+It is a fortunate thing that it occurred to me to relate his history;
+and now I consider it my duty to report that he was entirely innocent
+of any burglarious or murderous intentions.
+
+I only wish I could clear him of other sins as easily as this. The
+object he was turning and twisting in his left breeches pocket was
+not a house-key, nor a jimmy, nor a club, nor a tomahawk, nor any
+infernal machine: It was a small piece of paper containing fourteen
+stivers, which he had raised on his New Testament with Psalms at
+the grocer's on the "Ouwebrug"; and the thing that held him fast on
+the Hartenstraat was nothing more or less than his entrance into the
+magic world of romance. He was going to read "Glorioso."
+
+Glorioso! Reader, there are many imitations, but only one Glorioso. All
+the Rinaldos and Fra Diavolos are not to be mentioned in the same
+breath with Glorioso, this incomparable hero who carried away
+countesses by the dozen, plundered popes and cardinals as if they
+were ordinary fallible people, and made a testament-thief of Walter
+Pieterse.
+
+To be sure, Glorioso was not to blame for this last, certainly not. One
+ought to be ashamed to be a hero, or a genius, or even a robber, if
+on this account one is to be held responsible for all the crimes that
+may be committed years afterwards in the effort to get possession of
+one's history.
+
+I myself object to any accusation of complicity in those evil deeds
+that are committed after my death in quenching the thirst for knowledge
+of my fate. Indeed, I shall never be deterred from a famous career
+merely by the thought that some one may sell the New Testament to
+get hold of the "Life and Deeds of Multatuli."
+
+"You rascal, what are you loitering around here for? If you want
+anything, come in; if you don't, make yourself scarce."
+
+And now Walter had to go in, or else abandon his cherished
+Glorioso. But the man who bent over the counter and twisted himself
+like a crane to open the door and snarl these words at our young hero
+did not have a face that advised anything like turning back. He was
+angry. At first Walter had not had the courage to go in; now he did
+not dare to turn back. He felt himself drawn in. It was as if the
+book-shop swallowed him.
+
+"Glorioso, if you please, M'neer, and here----" He drew that infernal
+machine from his pocket. "And here is money----"
+
+For he had learned from his schoolmates, who had infected him with
+this craving for romance, that at the circulating library strangers
+must deposit a forfeit.
+
+The shopman seemed to regard himself as "sufficiently protected"
+by the sum produced. He took down a small volume, which was greasy
+and well worn, and bore both within and without the traces of much
+unclean enjoyment.
+
+I am certain that the "Sermons of Pastor Splitvesel," which stood
+undisturbed on the top shelf and looked down contemptuously on
+the literature of the day, would have been ashamed to bring their
+spotless binding into contact with so much uncleanliness. But it is
+not difficult to remain clean in the upper row. I find, therefore,
+that the "sermons" were unjust; and the same is true of many sermons.
+
+After Walter had given his name to the man in a trembling voice, he
+stuck the reward of his misdeed under his coat and hurried out the
+door, like a cat making away with the prey for which it has waited
+for hours.
+
+Walter ran and ran, and did not know where to go. He couldn't go home;
+he was watched too closely there,--which was not very difficult,
+as the space was rather limited.
+
+He selected quiet streets and finally came to a gateway that he
+remembered to have seen several times. It was a low, smooth arch,
+where it always smelled like ashes. Here, as a truant, he had taken
+that leap! He was with Franz Halleman, who had dared him to cut sacred
+studies and jump from the top of this arch. Walter did it just because
+little Franz had questioned his courage.
+
+To this escapade he was indebted for his great familiarity with the
+prophet Habakkuk, whose prophecies he had to copy twelve times as
+a penalty. Further, the sprain that he got in his big toe on that
+occasion gave him a good barometer in that organ, which always warned
+him of approaching rain.
+
+In a certain sense Habakkuk is to be regarded as marking a transition
+in Walter's life, viz. from nursery rhymes to books which deal with big
+people. For some time he had felt his admiration for "brave Heinriche"
+to be growing; and he was disgusted with the paper peaches that are
+distributed as the reward of diligence in the beautiful stories. Of
+any other peaches he had no knowledge, as the real article was never
+seen in the houses he visited.
+
+Nothing was more natural than that he should most ardently long to
+talk with the older schoolboys about the wonders of the real world,
+where people ride in coaches, devastate cities, marry princesses,
+and stay up in the evening till after 10 o'clock--even if it isn't a
+birthday. And then at the table one helps one's self, and may select
+just whatever one wants to eat. So think children.
+
+Every boy has his heroic age, and humanity, as a whole, has worn the
+little coat with the big collar.
+
+But how far can this comparison be carried? Where does the
+identity stop? Will the human race become mature? and more than
+mature?--old? Feeble and childish?
+
+How old are we now? Are we boys, youths, men? Or are we
+already----? No, that would be too unpleasant to think of.
+
+Let us suppose that we are just in the exuberance of youth! We are
+then no longer children exactly, and still we may hope something of
+the future.
+
+Yes, of the future,--when this stifling school atmosphere has been
+blown away. When we shall take pleasure in the short jacket of the boy
+that comes after us; when people will be at liberty to be born without
+any legal permit, and will not be reviled for it; when humanity will
+speak one language; when metaphysics and religion have been forgotten,
+and knowledge of nature takes the place of noble birth. When we shall
+have broken away from the nursery stories.
+
+There is some silk for my Chinaman's pigtail. Some will say it is
+only flax.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Walter thought neither of the heroic age nor of Chinese cues. Without
+any feeling for the beauty of the landscape, he hurried along till
+he came to a bridge that spanned a marshy ditch. After looking about
+carefully to assure himself that he was alone, he selected this
+bridge for his reading-room, and proceeded at once to devour his
+robber undisturbed.
+
+For a moment I felt tempted to make the reader a participant of
+Walter's pleasure by giving a sketch of the immortal work that chained
+the boy's attention. But aside from the fact that I am not very well
+versed in Glorioso--which fact of itself, though, would not prevent me
+from speaking about him--I have many other things of a more urgent
+nature to relate, and am compelled therefore to take the reader
+directly to the Hartenstraat, hoping that he will be able to find
+his way just as well as if he had crossed the Ouwebrug--the old bridge.
+
+Suffice it to say that Walter found the book "very nice." The virtuous
+Amalia, in the glare of flaring torches, at the death-bed of her
+revered mother, in the dismal cypress valley, swearing that her ardent
+love for the noble robber--through the horrible trapdoor, the rusty
+chains, her briny tears--in a word, it was stirring! And there was
+more morality in it, too, than in all the insipid imitations. All the
+members of the band were married and wore gloves. In the cave was
+an altar, with wax tapers; and those chapters in which girls were
+abducted always ended with a row of most decorous periods, or with
+mysterious dashes--which Walter vainly held up to the light in his
+effort to learn more about it.
+
+He read to: "Die, betrayer!" Then it was dark, and he knew that it
+was time to go home. He was supposed to be taking a walk with the
+Halleman boys,--who were "such respectable children." With regret he
+closed the precious volume and hurried away as fast as he could, for
+he was afraid he was going to get a whipping for staying away so long.
+
+"You will never get permission again"--thus he was always threatened
+on such occasions. But he understood, of course, that they didn't mean
+it. He knew too well that people like to get rid of the children for
+a while when they are a little short of space at home. And then the
+little Hallemans were "such extraordinarily respectable children;
+they lived next to a house with a portico, and recently they had
+taken off their little caps so politely."
+
+Now, I don't believe that the Hallemans were any more respectable
+than other boys of Walter's acquaintance; and, as I would like to
+give some reasons for my belief, I am going to relate an incident
+that had happened some time before this.
+
+Walter never got any pocket-money. His mother considered this
+unnecessary, because he got at home everything that he needed. It
+mortified him to have to wait for an invitation to join in a game
+of ball with his companions, and then be reminded that he had
+contributed nothing towards buying the ball. In Walter's time that
+useful instrument of sport cost three doits--just a trifle. Now
+I suppose they are more expensive--but no, cheaper, of course, on
+account of Political Economy.
+
+On many occasions he was depressed by reason of this lack of money. We
+shall see later whether what his mother said was true, or not: that he
+received at home everything he needed. It is certain that at home he
+never had the privilege of doing with some little thing as he pleased,
+which is very nice for children. And for grown-up people, too.
+
+The Hallemans--who were so especially respectable--gave him to
+understand that they had no desire to bear all the expenses. Franz
+calculated that Walter's friendship had already cost them nine
+stivers, which I find high--not for the friendship, but merely
+as an estimate. Gustave said it was still more; but that is a
+detail. Gustave, too, had let him have four slate pencils, that he
+might court "the tall Cecilia," who wouldn't have anything to do with
+him because he wore a jacket stuck in his trousers--the kind small
+boys wore then. She accepted the pencils, and then made Gustave a
+present of them for a kiss.
+
+The reproaches of the little Hallemans, who were so very respectable,
+almost drove Walter to despair.
+
+"I have told my mother, but she won't give me anything."
+
+The little Hallemans, who were so respectable, said: "What's that
+you're giving us? You're a parasite."
+
+This was the first time Walter had ever heard the word, but he knew
+what it meant. Nothing sharpens the wits like bitterness of heart.
+
+"A parasite, a parasite--I'm a parasite," and he ran off screaming,
+making a detour in order to avoid the street where Cecilia's father
+had a second-hand store. Oh, if she had seen him running through
+the street crying like a baby--that would have been worse than the
+breeches pulled up over his jacket!
+
+A parasite, a parasite!
+
+He met lots of grown-up people who perhaps were parasites, but they
+were not bawling on this account.
+
+Parasite!
+
+He saw a policeman, and caught his breath when he got by him, surprised
+that the man hadn't arrested him.
+
+Parasite!
+
+Then came a street-sweeper with his cart, who seemed to rattle that
+hateful word after him.
+
+Our little sufferer remembered that the Halleman boys had once told
+him what a fortune could be made by peddling peppermint drops. For
+twenty-four stivers one could buy a big sack full. By selling so
+and so many for a doit, the profit would be enormous. If one only
+had the capital to begin! The Hallemans had calculated everything
+very exactly; for they were not only very respectable, but also very
+cunning. Cunningness and respectability usually go hand in hand. They
+had said, all that was needed was the capital. They would attend to
+laying in the stock, and would assume all responsibility for the sale
+of the same. If Walter would chip in just a florin, they could raise
+the rest and all would go well.
+
+Parasite.... Parasite....
+
+Walter slipped a florin from his mother's box of savings and brought
+it to the Halleman boys, who were so remarkably respectable.
+
+"Where did you get it?" asked Gustave, but careful not to give Walter
+time to answer, or to fall into an embarrassing silence.
+
+"Where did you get it?"--without any interrogation point--"fine! Franz
+and I will each add one like it. That'll make twenty-four, and then
+we'll buy the peppermints. There's a factory on the Rosengracht--such
+a sack for four shillings. Franz and I will do everything. We'll
+have more opportunity at school, you understand. Christian Kloskamp
+has already ordered twelve; he'll pay after the holidays. We'll take
+all the trouble; you needn't do anything, Walter--and then an equal
+divide. You can depend upon it."
+
+Walter went home and dreamed of unheard-of wealth. He would put a
+dollar in his mother's savings-bank, and buy for Cecilia a lead pencil
+from the man who had picked holes in the wood-work of his wagon with
+them. So strong were they! That would be something entirely different
+from those slate pencils; and if the tall Cecilia still wouldn't
+have him, then--but Walter did not care to think further. There are
+abysses along the path of fancy that we do not dare to sound. We see
+them instinctively, close the eyes and--I only know that on that
+evening Walter fell asleep feeling good, expecting soon to have a
+good conscience over his little theft and hoping that Cecilia would
+give him a happy heart.
+
+Alas, alas! Little Walter had made his calculations without taking into
+consideration the slyness and respectability of the Hallemans. They
+lay in wait for him the next day as he came from school. Walter,
+who had painted to himself how they would be panting under the
+weight of the great sack; Walter, who was so anxious to know if
+Christian Kloskamp had taken what he had ordered; Walter, who was
+burning with curiosity as to the success of the venture--oh, he was
+bitterly disappointed. Gustave Halleman not only carried no sack of
+peppermints. What's more, he had a very grave face. And little Franz
+looked like virtue itself.
+
+"Well, how is everything?" Walter asked, but without saying a word. He
+was too curious not to ask, and too fearful to express the question
+otherwise than by opening his mouth and poking out his face.
+
+"Don't you know, Walter, we've been thinking about the matter; and
+there's a lot to be said against the plan."
+
+Poor Walter! In that moment both his heart and his conscience suffered
+shipwreck. Away with your dreams of ethical vindication, away with
+the gaping money-boxes of mothers--away, lead pencil that was to
+bore a hole in the hard heart of the tall Cecilia--gone, gone, gone,
+everything lost.
+
+"You see, Walter, the mint-drops might melt."
+
+"Y-e-s," sobbed Walter.
+
+"And Christian Kloskamp, who ordered twelve--don't you know----"
+
+"Y-e-s."
+
+I wonder if Christian was likely to melt too.
+
+"He is leaving school, and will certainly not return after the
+holidays."
+
+"H-e-e i-i-s?"
+
+"Yes, and for that reason, and also because there are not anything like
+so many to the pound as we had thought. Mint-drops are heavy. We've
+calculated everything, Franz and I."
+
+"Yes," added little Franz, with the seriousness of one giving
+important advice in a time of great danger, "the things are very
+heavy at present. Feel this one; but you must give it back to me."
+
+Walter weighed the mint-drop on his finger and returned it
+conscientiously.
+
+He found it heavy. Ah, in this moment he was so depressed that he
+would have found everything heavy.
+
+Franz stuck the piece of candy into his mouth, and sucking at it
+continued:
+
+"Yes, really, very heavy. These are the English drops, you know. And
+then there is something else, too, isn't there, Gustave? The propriety,
+the respectability! Tell him, Gustave."
+
+"The respectability," cried Gustave, significantly.
+
+"We mean the respectability of it," repeated Franz, as if he were
+explaining something.
+
+Walter looked first from one to the other, and did not seem to
+comprehend.
+
+"You tell him, Gustave."
+
+"Yes, Walter, Franz will tell you," said Gustave.
+
+"Walter, our papa is a deacon, and carries a portfolio, and there
+where we live is a----"
+
+"Yes," cried Gustave, "there on the Gracht, you know, lives M'neer
+Krulewinkel. He has a villa----"
+
+"With a portico," added Franz.
+
+"It's just on account of our standing--don't you see, Walter? And
+when a visitor comes our mother brings out the wine."
+
+"Yes, Maderia, Maderia! And our tobacco-box is silver, and----"
+
+"No, Franz, it isn't silver; but, Walter, it looks just like silver."
+
+Our poor little sinner understood all of this, but he failed to see
+what bearing it might have on his own disappointed hopes. He stuttered:
+"Yes, Gustave--yes, Franz--but the peppermint----"
+
+"We just wanted to tell you that we are very respectable, don't
+you see?"
+
+"Yes, Gustave."
+
+"And well-behaved."
+
+"Y-e-e-s, Franz." Poor Walter!
+
+"And then as you said you never got any pocket-money----"
+
+"Yes, Walter--and don't you know? Because our papa is so
+respectable--when winter comes you can see how he looks after the
+orphans."
+
+"Yes, and he rings at every door. And--and--we are afraid, that
+you----"
+
+"That you----"
+
+"The florin----"
+
+"The florin! You understand?"
+
+"That you didn't get it----"
+
+"That you didn't get it honestly. That's it," said Franz, sticking
+another mint-drop into his mouth, perhaps to brace himself up.
+
+It was out at last. Poor, miserable Walter.
+
+"And on that account, Walter, we would rather not keep the money,
+but just divide now--equally, as we all agreed."
+
+"Yes," cried Gustave, "divide equally. The work--we--you understand?"
+
+They divided the profits. And the Hallemans were sleek about
+it. Twenty-four stivers; three into twenty-four goes eight times,
+therefore----
+
+Walter received eight stivers.
+
+"Don't you see," explained Gustave, "we couldn't do it, because our
+papa is a deacon."
+
+"Yes--and our tobacco-box, even if it isn't pure silver, it's just
+like silver."
+
+My lack of faith in the extreme respectability of the Hallemans
+is based upon the foregoing story; and I am inclined to think that
+all this "respectability" of which Walter heard so much at home was
+only an excuse on his mother's part to get him out of the way. For
+there was a lack of room. If she had wanted to use Walter about the
+house, it is questionable if she had discovered anything especially
+respectable about those boys.
+
+Many laws and most customs have their origin in a "lack of room"--in
+the intellect, in one's character, in the house or flat, in the fields,
+in the city.
+
+This applies to the preference for the right hand--a result of
+crowding at the table--to the institution of marriage, and to many
+things lying between these extremes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+We will not try to explain further this fruitful principle of
+"limitation of space." Walter knew the fruit of it, even if he failed
+to recognize the origin. He was not worried so much by the mere coming
+home as by the punishment he expected to receive as soon as that New
+Testament should be missed. He had returned from his little excursion
+into the country with Glorioso, and now in Amsterdam again the memory
+of his recent offense--or shall I say the anticipation of what was
+coming?--lay heavily on his mind.
+
+If we could think away all the results of crime committed, there
+would be very little left of what we call conscience.
+
+But Walter consoled himself with the thought that it wasn't a thimble
+this time. The testament will not be missed at once, he reflected,
+because Sunday was a long way off, and no one would ask about it
+during the week.
+
+No, it was not a thimble, or a knitting-needle, or a sugar-bowl,
+or anything in daily use.
+
+When our hero got home, he stuck his greasy Glorioso under Leentje's
+sewing-table--the same Leentje who had sewed up his breeches after
+that wonderful leap, so that his mother never found out about it. She
+went down to her grave in ignorance of these torn breeches.
+
+But Leentje was employed to patch breeches and such things. She
+received for this seven stivers a week, and every evening a slice of
+bread and butter.
+
+Long after the Habakkuk period, Walter often thought of her humble
+"Good-evening, Juffrouw; good-evening, M'neer and the young Juffrouwen;
+good-evening, Walter," etc.
+
+Yes, Walter's mother was called Juffrouw, on account of the
+shoe-business. For Juffrouw is the title of women of the lower middle
+classes, while plain working women are called simply Vrouw. Mevrouw
+is the title of women of the better classes. And so it is in the
+Netherlands till to-day: The social structure is a series of classes,
+graduated in an ascending scale. Single ladies are also called
+Juffrouw, so that Juffrouw may mean either a young lady or a young
+matron--who need not necessarily be so young. The young Juffrouwen
+were Walter's sisters, who had learned how to dance. His brother
+had been called M'neer since his appointment as assistant at the
+"intermediate school," a sort of charity school now no longer in
+existence. His mother had spliced his jacket that he might command
+the respect of the boys, and remarked that the name "Stoffel" scarcely
+suited him now. This explains why Leentje addressed him as M'neer. To
+Walter she simply said Walter, for he was only a small boy. Walter
+owed her three stivers, or, to be exact, twenty-six doits, which he
+never did pay her. For, years afterward, when he wanted to return the
+money to her, there were no more doits; and, besides, Leentje was dead.
+
+This pained him very much, for he had thought a great deal of her. She
+was ugly, even dirty, and was stoop-shouldered, too. Stoffel, the
+schoolmaster, said that she had an evil tongue: She was thought to
+have started the report that he had once eaten strawberries with
+sugar in the "Netherlands." This was a small garden-restaurant.
+
+I am willing to admit the truth of all this; but what more could one
+expect for seven stivers and a slice of bread and butter? I have known
+duchesses who had larger incomes; and still in social intercourse
+they were not agreeable.
+
+Leentje was stooped as a result of continuous sewing. Her needle
+kept the whole family clothed; and she knew how to make two jackets
+and a cap out of an old coat and still have enough pieces left for
+the gaiters that Stoffel needed for his final examination. He fell
+through on account of a mistake in Euclid.
+
+With the exception of Walter nobody was satisfied with Leentje. I
+believe they were afraid of spoiling her by too much kindness. Walter's
+sisters were always talking about "class" and "rank," saying that
+"everyone must stay in his place." This was for Leentje. Her father
+had been a cobbler who soled shoes, while the father of the young
+Juffrouwen had had a store in which "shoes from Paris" were sold. A
+big difference. For it is much grander to sell something that somebody
+else has made than to make something one's self.
+
+The mother thought that Leentje might be a little cleaner. But I am
+going to speak of the price again, and of the difficulty of washing
+when one has no time, no soap, no room, and no water. At that time
+waterpipes had not been laid, and, if they had been, it's a question
+if the water had ever got as far as Leentje.
+
+So, everyone but Walter had a spite against Leentje. He liked her,
+and was more intimate with her than with anyone else in the house,
+perhaps because the others could not endure him, and there was nothing
+left for him to do but to seek consolation from her. For every feeling
+finds expression, and nothing is lost, either in the moral or in the
+material world. I could say more about this, but I prefer to drop the
+subject now, for the organ-grinder under my window is driving me crazy.
+
+Walter's mother called him, "That boy." His brothers--there were
+more beside Stoffel--affirmed that he was treacherous and morose,
+because he spoke little and didn't care for "marbles." When he did say
+anything, they attributed to him a relationship with King Solomon's
+cat. His sisters declared he was a little devil. But Walter stood
+well with Leentje. She consoled him, and considered it disgraceful
+that the family didn't make more out of such a boy as Walter. She
+had seen that he was not a child like ordinary children. And I should
+scarcely take the trouble to write his story if he had been.
+
+Up to a short time after his trip to Hartenstraat, Ash Gate and the
+old bridge, Leentje was Walter's sole confidant. To her he read
+the verses that slender Cecilia had disdained. To her he poured
+out his grief over the injustice of his teacher Pennewip, who gave
+him only "Fair," while to that red-headed Keesje he gave "Very good"
+underscored--Keesje who couldn't work an example by himself and always
+"stuck" in "Holland Counts."
+
+"Poor boy," said Leentje, "you're right about it." They went over into
+the Bavarian house. It's a disgrace! And to save a doit on the pound.
+
+She claimed that Keesje's father, who was a butcher, let Pennewip
+have meat at a reduced price, and that this was what was the matter
+with all those Holland counts and their several houses.
+
+Later Walter looked upon this as a "white lie," for Pennewip, when
+examined closely, didn't look like a man who would carry on a crooked
+business with beefsteak. But in those days he accepted gladly this
+frivolous suspicion against the man's honor as a plaster for his own,
+which had been hurt by the favoritism towards Keesje. Whenever our
+honor is touched, or what we regard as our honor, then we think little
+of the honor of others.
+
+When his brothers jeered at him and called him "Professor Walter,"
+or when his sisters scolded him for his "idiotic groping among
+the bed-curtains," or when his mother punished him for eating up
+the rice that she intended to serve again "to-morrow"--then it was
+always Leentje who restored the equilibrium of his soul and banished
+his cares, just as, with her inimitable stitches, she banished the
+"triangles" from his jacket and breeches.
+
+Ugly, dirty, evil-tongued Leentje, how Walter did like you! What
+consolation radiated from her thimble, what encouragement even in
+the sight of her tapeline! And what a lullaby in those gentle words:
+"There now, you have a needle and thread and scraps. Sew your little
+sack for your pencils and tell me more of all those counts, who always
+passed over from one house into another."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+I don't know what prophet Walter got as punishment for that pawned
+Bible. The pastor came to preach a special sermon. The man was simply
+horrified at such impiousness. Juffrouw Laps, who lived in the lower
+anteroom, had heard about it too. She was very pious and asserted
+that such a boy was destined for the gallows.
+
+"One begins with the Bible," she said significantly, "and ends with
+something else."
+
+No one has ever found out just what that "something else" is which
+follows a beginning with the Bible. I don't think she knew herself,
+and that she said it to make people believe that she possessed much
+wisdom and knew more about the world than she gave utterance to. Now,
+I admit that I have no respect for wisdom that cannot express itself
+in intelligible words, and, if it had been my affair, I should have
+very promptly drawn a tight rein on Juffrouw Laps.
+
+Stoffel delivered an exhortation in which he brought out all that had
+been forgotten by the preacher. He spoke of Korah, Dathan and Abiram,
+who had erred similarly to Walter and had been sent to an early grave
+for their sins. He said too, that the honor of the family had been
+lost at the "Ouwebrug," that it was his duty, "as the eldest son of an
+irreproachable widow and third assistant at the intermediate school,
+to take care of the honor of the house----"
+
+"Of Bavaria," said Leentje softly.
+
+That "a marriage, or any other arrangement for the girls, would be
+frustrated by Walter's offence, for no one would have anything to do
+with girls who----"
+
+In short, Stoffel accented the fact that it was "a disgrace," and that
+"he would never be able to look anyone in the face who knew of this
+crime." He remarked distinctly that the schoolboys must know of it,
+for Louis Hopper had already stuck out his tongue at him!
+
+And finally, that he "shuddered to cross the new market-place"--in
+those days criminals were scourged, branded and hanged here--because
+it reminded him so disagreeably of Juffrouw Laps's horrible allusion
+to Walter's fate.
+
+Then followed all sorts of things about Korahs, Dathans and Abirams,
+whereupon the whole family broke out in a wail. For it was so pathetic.
+
+Walter comforted himself with thoughts of Glorioso, and, whenever that
+"something else" of Juffrouw Laps was spoken of, he just dreamed of
+his marriage with beautiful Amalia, whose train was carried by six
+pages. I fancy Juffrouw Laps would have made a pretty face if she
+had learned of this interpretation of her mysterious climax.
+
+All efforts to compel our hero to tell how he had spent that money were
+in vain. After all known means had been applied, the attempt to force a
+confession had to be abandoned. Water and bread, water without bread,
+bread without water, no water and no bread, the preacher, Stoffel,
+Habakkuk, Juffrouw Laps, tears, the rod--all in vain. Walter was not
+the boy to betray Glorioso. This was what he had found so shabby of
+Scelerajoso, who had to pay the penalty, as we have seen.
+
+As soon as he got the privilege of walking again with the Hallemans,
+who were so eminently respectable, he hurried away to the old bridge,
+near Ash Gate, to continue his thrilling book. He read up to that
+fatal moment when he had to tell his hero good-bye, and on the last
+page saw Glorioso, as a major-general, peacefully expire in the arms
+of the virtuous Alvira.
+
+When Walter had returned the book to Hartenstraat his eye was attracted
+by some almond-cakes at the confectioner's on the corner. He did with
+Glorioso just as the Athenians did with Kodrus: No one was worthy to
+be the successor of such a hero, and within a few days the residue
+of the New Testament had been converted into stomach-destroying pastry.
+
+I ought to add that a part of the "balance" left after that Italian
+excursion--perhaps the part contributed by the Psalms--was invested
+in a triple-toned, ear-splitting, soul-searing harmonica, which was
+finally confiscated by Master Pennewip as being a disturbing element
+in the schoolroom.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+I don't feel called upon to pass judgment on the strife between
+Leentje and Pennewip regarding the latter's partiality towards Keesje,
+the butcher's son. But that fiery feeling for right and justice
+which has harrassed me from my earliest youth--ah, for years have I
+waited in vain for justice--and the foolish passion for hunting after
+mitigating circumstances, even when the misdeed has been proved--all
+this compels me to say that Pennewip's lot might be considered a
+mitigating circumstance for a man convicted of the eight deadly sins.
+
+I have found that many great men began their careers as feeders of
+hogs (see biographical encyclopedias); and it seems to me that this
+occupation develops those qualities necessary in ruling or advancing
+mankind.
+
+If the theologists should happen to criticise this story, and perhaps
+accuse me of far-reaching ignorance, because I enumerate one cardinal
+sin more than they knew of, or of the crime of classifying man as
+a sort of hog, I reply that, still another new canonical sin could
+be discovered that they have never studied. And that ought to be as
+pleasing to them as influenza is to the apothecary.
+
+New problems, gentlemen, new problems!
+
+And as for our relationship with pigs, just consider the relation
+of coal to diamond, and I think everyone will be satisfied--even
+the theologists.
+
+What a magnificent prospect anyone has who spends his tender youth
+with those grunting coal-diamonds of the animal world! But I have
+often wondered that in the "Lives of Famous Men" we so seldom read of
+a school-teacher, for in the school all the ingredients of greatness
+are abounding.
+
+The reverse is more often true. Every day we see banished princes
+teaching lazy boys. Dionysius and Louis Philippe are not the only
+ones. I myself once tried to teach an American French. It was no go.
+
+If it should ever become customary again to elect kings, I hope the
+people will elect such persons as have studied men, just as one studies
+Geography on globes or maps. All virtues, propensities, passions,
+mistakes, misdeeds, knowledge of which is so indispensable in human
+society, can be studied much better in the schoolroom. The field is
+restricted, and can be taken in more readily. The famous statecraft
+of many a great man, if the truth were known, had its origin in that
+old tripping trick, which is everything to the three-foot Machiavellis.
+
+The task of a schoolmaster is not an easy one. I have never understood
+why he is not better paid, or, since this must be so, why there are
+still men who prefer to teach, when on the same pay they might be
+corporals in the army, and teach the use of firearms, which offers
+fewer headaches and more fresh air.
+
+I would even rather be a preacher; for he does work with people who are
+interested and come to hear him of their own free will. The teacher
+has to fight continually with indifference, and with the extremely
+dangerous rivalry of tops, marbles, and paper-dolls--not to speak of
+candy, scarlatina and weak mothers.
+
+Pennewip was a man of the old school. At least he would seem so to
+us if we could see him in his gray school jacket and short trousers
+with buckles, and his brown wig, which he was continually pushing
+into place. At the first of the week this was always curly, when it
+was not raining--rain isn't good for curls; and on Sundays "the man
+with the curling irons" came.
+
+Antiquated? But perhaps this is only imagination. Who knows? perhaps
+in his day he was quite modern. How soon people will say the same
+of us! At all events, the man called himself "Master" and his school
+was a school and not an "Institute." It is no advance to call things
+by other than their right names. In his school boys and girls sat
+together indiscriminately, according to the naÔve custom of those
+days. They learned, or might learn, Reading, Writing, Arithmetic,
+National History, Psalmody, Sewing, Knitting, and Religion. These
+were the order of the day, but if anyone distinguished himself by
+a show of talent, diligence or good behavior, that one received
+special instruction in versification, an art in which Pennewip took
+great pleasure.
+
+Thus he taught the boys till they were sufficiently advanced to be
+confirmed. With the help of his wife he gave the girls a "finishing
+course." They were graduated with a paternoster done in red on a black
+background, or perhaps a pierced heart between two flower-pots. Then
+they were through and ready to become the grandmothers of their
+own generation.
+
+There was no natural science then. Even to-day there is room for
+improvement along this line. It is said that some advance has been
+made recently. It is more useful for a child to know how corn grows
+than to be able to call the name of it in a foreign language. I don't
+say that either is incompatible with the other.
+
+The public schools were most deficient at the time when Walter and
+Keesje were slowly crawling around the arena of honor; but I doubt if
+one could say much more of the "institutes" of to-day. I would advise
+everyone to visit such a school as he attended when a boy; and I am
+convinced that after this test many a father who has the welfare of
+his children at heart will prefer to keep them at home. One comes to
+the conclusion, that after all in the school of clever Master Miller,
+who was so clever that he got himself addressed as M'sieu Millaire,
+precious little was to be learned.
+
+Failing to make this test we continue to believe in the infallibility
+of M'sieu of Millaire. We always consider that one a great man whom
+we have known in childhood and haven't seen since.
+
+When I remarked a moment ago that school-teachers are paid so
+niggardly, I didn't mean that their remuneration was insufficient,
+considering the quality and quantity of the goods delivered--knowledge,
+scholarship, education. I only had in mind the bitterness of their
+lot, and the poor indemnity given to the man who spends his life in
+a wasp's nest.
+
+In addition to versifying, Pennewip had still another hobby, which gave
+him more claim to a throne than did anything else. He was possessed
+with the mania for classifying, a passion known to few, but still of
+not infrequent occurrence. I have never quite understood the disease;
+and I gave up my search for the "first cause" as soon as I saw how
+difficult it is to get around with a hobby-horse taken from somebody
+else's stable. So I am going to give only a short sketch of Pennewip's
+harmless animal.
+
+Everything that he saw, perceived, experienced he divided into
+families, classes, genera, species and sub-species, and made of the
+human race a sort of botanical garden, in which he was the Linne. He
+regarded that as the only possible way to grasp the final purpose
+of creation and clear up all obscure things, both in and out of
+school. He even went so far as to say that Walter's New Testament
+would have turned up again if Juffrouw Pieterse had only been able
+to tell to what class the man belonged who had bound the volume in
+black leather. But that was something she didn't know.
+
+As for myself, I shouldn't have said a word about Pennewip's mania for
+classifying everything, if I hadn't thought it might help me to give
+the reader a better picture of our hero and his surroundings. I should
+have preferred to leave the said Pennewip in undisturbed intercourse
+with the muses; but we shall have occasion later to refer to his
+poetic art, when we shall quote some poems by his pupils.
+
+After the usual general division into "animate" and "inanimate"--the
+good man gave the human race only one soul--followed a system that
+looked like a pyramid. On the top was God with the angels and
+spirits and other accessories, while the oysters and polyps and
+mussels were crawling about down near the base, or lying still--just
+as they pleased. Half way up stood kings, members of school-boards,
+mayors, legislators, theologians and D.D.'s. Next under these were
+professors and merchants who do not work themselves. Then came
+doctors of things profane, i. e., those driving double rigs, also
+lawyers and untitled preachers, the Colonel of the City Militia,
+the Rector of the Latin School. Philosophers (only those who have
+developed a system), doctors with one horse, doctors without any
+horse and poets were further down. Rather low down, and not far from
+the mussels, was the seventh sub-division of the third class of the
+"citizen population." Our hero would come under this sub-section.
+
+
+    Citizen Population, Class III., 7th Sub-Division.
+
+    People Living in Rented Flats.
+
+    a. Entrance for tenants only. Three-window front. Two stories,
+    with back-rooms. The boys sleep alone, dress, however, with
+    the girls. Fresh straw in case a baby is born. Learning French,
+    poems at Christmas. The girls are sometimes called Lena or Maria,
+    but seldom Louise. Darning. The boys work in offices. One girl
+    kept, sewing-girl, and "person for the rough work." Washing
+    at home. Read sermons by Palm. Pickled pork on Sundays, with
+    table-cloth, liquor after coffee. Religion. Respectability.
+
+    b 1. Still three windows. One story. Neighbors live above who ring
+    twice (Vide b. 2). Leentje, Mietje; Louise heard seldom. House-door
+    opened with a cord, which is sleek from long use. Sleep in one
+    room. Straw-heaps in cases of confinement. One maid-servant
+    for everything. Sundays cheese, no liquor, but religion and
+    respectability as above.
+
+    b 2. Neighbors who ring twice. About as above. No maid, only a
+    "person for the rough work." Seamstress. White table-cloth. Cheese
+    from time to time, only occasionally. Religion as above.
+
+    c. One story higher. Two-window front. Small projecting
+    back-room. The entire family sleeps in two beds. No trace of
+    straw. The boys are called Louw, Piet, or Gerrit, and become
+    watchmakers or type-setters. A few become sailors. Continual
+    wrangle with the neighbors about the waste-water. Religion as
+    above. Associate with "respectable folk." Read "Harlemmer" with
+    III. 7, b. 2. No maid, or person for rough work, but a seamstress
+    on seven stivers and a piece of bread and butter.
+
+
+That brings us to Juffrouw Pieterse.
+
+The reader will now have a very good idea of Walter's environment, and
+will readily understand why I said he had a "city complexion." That
+was when we saw him in the Hartenstraat, on the road to fame, or on
+the road to that nameless "other thing" of Juffrouw Laps. At all
+events he was on his way to things that will occupy our attention
+for some time yet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+It was Wednesday, and the Pieterses were going to give a
+party. Juffrouw Laps had been invited, also the Juffrouw living
+over the dairy, whose husband was employed at the "bourse." Further
+Mrs. Stotter, who had been a midwife for so long and was still merely
+"very respectable." Then the widow Zipperman, whose daughter had
+married some fellow in the insurance business, or something of the
+kind. Also the baker's wife. That was unavoidable: it was impossible
+to buy all kinds of pastry and cakes without her finding out what
+was up. Then the Juffrouw living below and to the rear. Of course
+she wouldn't come, but the Pieterses wanted to show that they had
+forgotten the late quarrel over the broken window-pane. If she didn't
+come that was the end of the matter, so far as Juffrouw Pieterse was
+concerned. She would have nothing more to do with the Juffrouw from
+below. I may add that the lady from below did not come, and that her
+name was stricken from the calling-list of those higher up.
+
+The children were to go to bed early, with the promise of a cup of
+sage-milk for breakfast if they would not make any noise the entire
+evening. This drink largely took the place of tea then. It was thought
+that the "noise" made by children would not be appreciated. Walter
+got permission to go play with the Halleman boys, who were thought
+to be very respectable. He must be at home by eight o'clock; but this
+was said in a tone that gave him no cause to fear a reprimand in case
+he should stay out later. Laurens, who of course was an apprentice to
+a printer, and usually came home about seven o'clock in the evening,
+was big enough to be present with the guests, but must promise to sit
+still and drink only two glasses. The big girls were to be present
+as a matter of course: They had been confirmed. Stoffel presided. His
+business was to meet the gentlemen when they came for the ladies about
+ten o'clock, and entertain the company with stories of Mungo Park.
+
+Leentje was to remain till the people were all there, as it was so
+inconvenient to have to open the door every time. She could make
+herself useful in arranging the table and doing other things incident
+to such occasions. But she "must move about a little brisker,"
+otherwise they would prefer to do everything themselves.
+
+The eldest of the girls, Juffrouw Truitje, must look after the
+"sage-milk." Pietje had charge of the sandwiches; but Myntje was to
+see to it that the butter was spread a little thicker, for the last
+time the bread had been too dry.
+
+Everything was going to turn out so nicely, "if only Juffrouw
+Laps wouldn't talk so much." That was her failing. And, too, they
+hoped that the widow Zipperman would "brag a little less about her
+son-in-law." This was considered a source of weariness. And the
+Juffrouw who lived over the dairy "might be more modest." She had
+"never lived in such a fine house"; and as for the shop--that was no
+disgrace; and on the top floor--but one cannot tell how it will be.
+
+No one understood why the baker's wife used so many French words, which
+was not becoming in one of her station. "If she does it this evening,
+Stoffel, say something to me that she can't understand, then she will
+find out that we are not 'from the street,' that we know what's what."
+
+"It's all the same to me," Juffrouw Pieterse continued, "whether the
+Juffrouw downstairs comes or not. I don't care a fig about it.--Four,
+five--Louw can sit there, but he must keep his legs still--and a chair
+there--yes--so! It's a good thing she's not coming; it would have been
+too crowded. Leentje, go to work--do blow your nose! No, run over to
+Juffrouw Laps's and ask the Juffrouw if the Juffrouw could spare a
+few stools--without backs, you understand; because the chairs there
+by the chimney--yes, ask the Juffrouw for a few stools, and tell the
+Juffrouw that they are for me, and that I expect the Juffrouws about
+seven. Give my compliments to the Juffrouw and wipe your nose."
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse didn't like to use personal pronouns; it was
+impolite.
+
+On this afternoon Walter went to his bridge early. It was now not
+so useless as usual, for the rain of the day before had filled the
+ditch with water, which was even running, so that the straws which
+Walter thoughtlessly, or full of thought--both are about the same
+thing--threw into the water were carried down to the pond, where
+the logs lay that were to be sawed up by the "Eagle" and the "Early
+Hour." These were the names of the sawmills that for some weeks had
+been the witnesses of Walter's daydreams.
+
+Glorioso was gone, and could not be replaced; but on those afternoons
+when he was free Walter returned involuntarily to the spot where he had
+had his first glimpse of the world of romance. How rough and crude the
+colors in that first picture! Perhaps it was the very roughness of the
+colors that attracted him and changed him, till he could not conceive
+how he had ever found enjoyment in the little cakes on the corner.
+
+A peculiar prospective had opened up before him. He dreamed of things
+that he could not name; but they made him bitterly dissatisfied with
+his present condition. He was anxious to do everything prescribed
+to get to Heaven; but he thought it would be much easier to pray in
+such a cave with wax candles. And as for honoring his mother, a point
+upon which she always laid great stress--why didn't she have a train
+like the countess? Certainly he ought not to have sold the Bible;
+and he wouldn't do it any more--he had vowed it; but then he ought
+to have had a box filled with florins, and a feather in his cap,
+just as it was in the book.
+
+He was disgusted with his brother Stoffel, and his sisters, and
+Juffrouw Laps, and the preacher and everything. He couldn't understand
+why the whole family didn't go to Italy and form a respectable
+robber-band. But Pennewip and Keesje shouldn't go; that was certain.
+
+He wondered what had become of his verses. Every Wednesday such
+pupils as had been well-behaved, and, for that reason, deemed worthy
+to contest for the "laurel," handed in a poem written on some subject
+suggested by the teacher. This time the subject assigned to Walter was
+"Goodness," which probably had some reference to his former behavior,
+and was a hint for the improvement of his moral character. But Walter
+had already put goodness into rhyme so often, and found the subject so
+dry and tedious and worn-out that he had taken the liberty of "singing"
+something else. He selected the theme nearest his heart--robbers!
+
+Like all authors he was greatly infatuated with his work. He was
+convinced that the teacher, too, would see the excellencies of his poem
+and forgive him for deviating from the path of goodness. The verses
+would undoubtedly be sent to the mayor, and he would pass them on to
+the Pope, who would then summon Walter and appoint him "Court-robber."
+
+And thus he dreamed and threw his straws into the stream. They
+moved away slowly and disappeared between the moss-covered
+timbers. Involuntarily his fancy had transmuted them into the
+characters of his world of romance. There went the countess with
+her long train, which got caught in the moss and held the countess
+fast. The virtuous Amalia met with no better luck; she got tangled
+up in the water lentils. And now came Walter himself. He approached
+Amalia, in her green robes, and was just about to rescue her, when
+he was swallowed by a duck. This was most unkind of the duck, for
+it was Walter's last stalk of grass; and now in the rattling and
+buzzing of the sawmills below he could hear Amalia repeating in a
+reproachful voice:
+
+
+            "Warre, warre, warre, we;
+            Where is warre, warre, wall--
+            Walter, who will rescue me?"
+
+
+This annoyed him, and he could not resist the temptation to throw
+a rock at the duck whose greediness had caused Amalia to doubt his
+chivalry.
+
+The duck chose the better part, and retired after she had done Walter
+all the damage she could. But the sawmills paid no attention to these
+happenings and continued to rattle away.
+
+Walter heard now in the noisy clatter of the mills all kinds of songs
+and stories, and, listening to these, he soon forgot Amalia and the
+Pope. That the reader may not get a wrong impression of these mills,
+I hasten to say that there was really nothing extraordinary about
+them. They buzzed and rattled just like other sawmills.
+
+It often happens that we think we perceive something which comes from
+the external world, when in fact it is only a subjective product in
+ourselves. Similarly, we may think we have just imagined something,
+when really it came to us from the world of the senses.
+
+This is a kind of ventriloquism that often gives cause for annoyance
+and enmity.
+
+I wonder which turns the faster?--Walter listened to the mills. Now--I
+think--no, begin together. Good! No, the Eagle was ahead! Once
+more--now!
+
+Which will get there first? No, that won't do. Once more together. Look
+sharp, Morning Hour,--out again! I can't hold my eye on it--what a
+whirling and buzzing!
+
+You are tired, are you? I believe it.
+
+If I might only sit on such a big wing, wouldn't I hold on tight? And
+wouldn't the sawyer look?
+
+Why are you called "Morning Hour"? Have you gold in your mouth? And
+"Eagle"! Can you fly? Take me with you. What a big play-ground up
+there, and no school!
+
+I wonder how the first school began. Which came first, the school,
+or the teacher? But the first teacher must have attended a school. And
+the first school must have had a teacher.
+
+So the first school must have just started itself. But that is
+impossible. "Eagle," can you turn yourself?--with the wind? Can you
+turn yourself some other way? Try it. Beat "Morning Hour." Quick,
+quick--beautiful!
+
+Now, once more alone. Good!
+
+Now, together again! Karre, karre, kra, kra--stretch your arms out and
+take me with you. Will you? Put your hat on, Eagle; how the ribbons
+fly.--Who are you? Warre, warre, ware, wan--I can't help it; it was the
+duck. Tell me what your name is. Fanny, fanny, fanny, fan---- Is your
+name fan? And you, Morning Hour, what is your name? Ceny, ceny, ceny,
+ce. What kind of a name is Ce? Now together--sing a song together:
+
+
+            Fanny, fanny, fanny, fan--
+            Ceny, ceny, ceny, ce--
+            Fanny, ceny, fanny, ceny,
+            Fanny, ceny, fan--cy.
+
+
+Fancy--what do you mean by that? Is that the name of both of you? And
+what is it? Has it wings?
+
+"Morning Hour" and "Eagle" had fused into something that had wings
+and was called fancy.
+
+Fancy lifted Walter up and bore him away.
+
+When she brought him back to the bridge again it had already been
+dark for a long time. He shook himself as if he were wet, rubbed his
+eyes and started home. We shall see later what awaited him there;
+but first we must go back a few hours. I hope the reader will not
+disdain an invitation to Juffrouw Pieterse's. Remember that her
+husband never made anything, but bought everything ready-made in Paris.
+
+In passing by I should like to make Master Pennewip a short visit.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+School was out; and the seats looked as if the pupils had just left
+the tediousness of it all lying there. The map of Europe looked down
+peevishly on the heap of writing-pads. There lay the mutilated and
+well-worn goose-quills, which since time immemorial have opened up
+the gates of learning. True, the black-board vaunted itself with the
+heavy results of the last lesson in "fractions"; but the school was
+no more. The spirit had fled: It was a corpse.
+
+Yes, the "Geist" had gone out with the children; for the reader will
+see in a moment that they carried about with them a tremendous amount
+of that article.
+
+We already know that this was the great day when Pennewip was to
+criticise the poetical effusions of his young geniuses. There he sat,
+his restless wig sharing all the poetical feelings and emotions--and
+motions--of its owner. We will just look over his shoulder and read
+with him those inestimable treasures of poetic art; and perhaps we
+too shall be moved to emotion.
+
+Wig: In the middle, resting quietly.
+
+
+    Lucas de Bryer: "Our Native Land."
+
+    Cake and wine and native land,
+    Out in the moonlight I take my stand;
+    Our native land and cake and wine,
+    And I hope the moon will shine;
+    Five fingers have I on my hand,
+    All to honor our native land.
+
+
+"Melodious," said the teacher, "very melodious; and very profound. Cake
+and wine, with our native land as a climax."
+
+Wig: On the right side.
+
+
+    Lizzie Webbelar: "My Father's Vocation."
+
+    The cat is sly, I know;
+    My father is a dealer in Po-
+    Tatoes and onions.
+
+
+"Original, immediate! But I don't like the way she cuts her potatoes
+in twain."
+
+Wig: On the left side.
+
+
+    Jeanette Rust: "The Weather-cock."
+
+    He stands on the chimney since long ago,
+    And shows the wind which way to blow.
+
+
+"Smooth, but not quite correct, if examined closely--but I'll let it
+pass as poetic license."
+
+Wig: Down in front.
+
+
+    Leendert Snelleman: "Lent."
+
+    In Lent it is always nice,
+    My brother's birth-day is in May,
+    He says his feet need warming,
+    So that Lent we must be praising,
+    And then we're going to celebrate,
+    Easter brings eggs and a holiday.
+
+
+"It's too bad that he's so careless with his rhymes. His imagination
+is extraordinary. Very original."
+
+Wig: Down on his neck.
+
+
+    Keesje, the Butcher's Boy: "In Praise of the Teacher."
+
+    My father has slaughtered many a steer,
+    But Master Pennewip is still living, I hear;
+    Some are lean, and some are well-fed,
+    He has slipped his wig to the side of his head.
+
+
+The wig actually went to the side of his head.
+
+"Well, this is curious. I hardly know what to say about it."
+
+The wig slipped to the other side.
+
+"What's the connection between me and steers?"
+
+The wig protested vigorously against any implication of relationship
+with steers.
+
+"H--mm! Can it be that this is what our new-fangled writers call
+humour?"
+
+The wig sank down to his eyebrows, which signified doubt.
+
+"I will call up the boy and----"
+
+The wig passed again to the zenith, to express its satisfaction with
+the teacher's determination to interview the butcher's boy.
+
+
+    Lucas de Wilde: "Religion."
+
+    Religion very nice must be,
+    Much it pleases the people we see.
+
+
+"The fundamental idea is very beautiful," said the teacher, "but it
+ought to have been developed better."
+
+The wig nodded acquiescence.
+
+
+    Trudie Gier: "Juffrouw Pennewip."
+
+    The path of virtue she shows us each day,
+    And we are glad to go that way;
+    And as there's nothing to do more fitting,
+    She teaches us sewing, darning and knitting.
+
+
+The wig fairly leaped with pleasure, and the curls embraced one
+another. This out-pouring of Trudie's heart was borne at once to
+Juffrouw Pennewip, and was later hung by the fireplace in honor of
+the poetess and the subject of the poem.
+
+Then followed a sublime poem on God by Klaasje van der Gracht, the
+son of the Catechist. He was thirteen years old, and had not been
+vaccinated--out of regard for predestination.
+
+"If only his father didn't help him!"
+
+The wig was rigid with astonishment.
+
+
+    Louwtje de Wilde: "Friendship."
+
+    Friendship very nice must be,
+    Much it pleases the people we see.
+
+
+The wig seemed dissatisfied. The "Religion" of Lucas de Wilde was
+pulled out and compared with Louwtje's "Friendship."
+
+"H--emm. It is possible. Another example of how one thought can
+originate in two heads at the same time."
+
+
+    Wimpje de Wilde: "Fishing."
+
+    Fishing very----
+
+
+"What's that?"
+
+Yes, really, there it was again:
+
+
+    Fishing very nice must be,
+    Much it pleases the people we see.
+
+
+The wig was moving continually. It looked as if it were fishing too.
+
+The teacher looked hurriedly through the remaining poems and picked out
+the offspring of the entire Wilde connection. His worst suspicions were
+realized. Mietje de Wilde, Kees de Wilde, Piet and Jan de Wilde--all
+uniformly declared that religion, friendship, fishing, dreaming,
+cauliflower and deception "very nice must be," and that they were
+also very pleasing "to the people we see." A regular flood of the
+nice and pleasing.
+
+Now, what do you suppose the wig did? It did the best thing that
+could be done under the circumstances. More could not be expected of a
+wig. As soon as it saw the futility of its efforts to comprehend the
+difference between fishing, friendship, deception, dreams, religion
+and cauliflower, it merely ignored the whole matter, readjusted itself
+and assumed an expression of expectancy for what was yet to come.
+
+
+    Leentje de Haas: "Admiral de Ruyter."
+
+    Pulling the rope with emotion,
+      To the top of the mast he came,
+    And then he went to the ocean,
+      And won for himself great fame.
+
+    And very much more he perfected,
+      Saleh he vanquished, too;
+    A hero he was then elected,
+      With nothing else to do.
+
+
+The wig lifted itself, the curls applauding enthusiastically. It was
+evidently pleased.
+
+
+    Grete Wauzer: "The Caterpillar."
+
+    The caterpillar, free from care,
+    Crawls on the tree just over there.
+
+
+"Descriptive poetry. A daring idea--the caterpillar crawling on the
+tree free from care."
+
+Wig: Quiet.
+
+Ah, the pleasure of a wig is short-lived! And how soon was this
+one--but I will not anticipate. Soon, all too soon, the reader will
+know the worst.
+
+
+    Walter Pieterse: "A Robber Song."
+
+
+"Aha, what's this? And 'goodness'? But where has he written on
+goodness?"
+
+The teacher could scarcely believe his eyes. He turned the sheet of
+paper over and examined the back side, hoping to discover there some
+lines on goodness.
+
+Then he saw that on Walter's sheet there was not a trace of "goodness."
+
+Oh, wretched wig!
+
+Yes, wretched wig! For after it had suffered as never wig had
+suffered before, after it had been pulled at and tugged at
+and martyred in a manner beyond even the imagination of the
+Wilde family, Master Pennewip snatched it from his head,
+twisted it convulsively in his hands, stammered a short
+"Heaven-human-Christian-soul-good-gracious-my-life--how is it
+possible!" slapped it on his head again, covered it with his venerable
+cap and burst out the door like one possessed.
+
+He was on his way to Walter's home, where we shall soon see him
+arrive. As a conscientious historian, however, it will be my duty
+first to give an account of the happenings there.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+"Goodness, I'm glad to see you! And so early, too! Leetje, place a
+chair over there and get the footstool, but be in a hurry, or I'd
+rather do it myself. And how are you? Juffrouw Laps is coming too,
+you know--Myntje, you'd better be thinking of your dough and stop
+combing your head. That girl can't keep her hands off of her hair
+when there's company. But do take a seat--no, not in the corner;
+there's a draft there."
+
+There was no more draft in this corner than is usual to corners;
+but Mrs. Stotter was only a Vrouw, and not a "Juffrouw." She had
+no right to the seat of honour; for on all occasions a Juffrouw
+takes precedence of a Vrouw, just as a Mevrouw takes precedence of
+a Juffrouw. Everyone must keep his place, especially those in III,
+7, b1; or c., where etiquette is observed more closely than at the
+court of Madrid. The care and anxiety of the mistress of ceremonies
+make her work most trying, and, too, not merely for Juffrouw Pieterse.
+
+"Ah, my dear Juffrouw Pieterse, I was so surprised when Louwie came
+to invite me, for I had just remarked to Wimpje, who makes caps, you
+know--no, thank you, Pietje, I don't care for any just now--I said
+to Wimpje, I wonder what Juffrouw Pieterse is doing, for I hadn't
+heard from you in so long, you know--yes, just throw it aside, it's
+my old one; I knew you wouldn't mind my wearing my old one--and then
+Wimpje said----"
+
+What Wimpje really said I don't know. Mrs. Stotter's garment, which she
+had described as her "old one," was removed and placed on the foot of
+the bed in the back room. The children, who were piled together there
+like sardines, were duly admonished not to stretch out their feet,
+lest in doing so they injure Mrs. Stotter's "old" garment.
+
+"And now, my dear, be seated--yes, that's for us, twice
+already. Leentje, where are you hiding now? Can't you hear that
+somebody is ringing?--It's probably Juffrouw Zipperman. Juffrouw
+Zipperman is coming, too, you know."
+
+Again I am at a loss: I don't know whether it was Juffrouw Zipperman
+who had rung, or somebody else. But the reader need not scold me for
+writing a story that I don't know myself. I cannot be sure whether it
+was Juffrouw Zipperman this time or Juffrouw Mabbel, from the bakery,
+or Juffrouw Krummel, whose husband is at the bourse, or Juffrouw
+Laps--but she didn't need to ring, as she lived in the house. Anyway,
+by half past seven the entire company was assembled, and Stoffel was
+smoking his pipe as if his life depended upon it. Leentje had gone home
+without her piece of bread and butter. She "could get it to-morrow";
+to-day there was "so much to do," and "one can't do everything at once,
+you know."
+
+"And then she got another one right away--don't you know? One with
+a wart on her nose."
+
+"Ah, it's an ordeal one has with girls," said Juffrouw Pieterse. "Take
+another piece, don't wait to be insisted upon; it's a cake from your
+own dough."
+
+"Excusez," said the Juffrouw from the bakery, with a mouth like a
+rabbit, a style of mouth signifying graciousness and good breeding.
+
+"You must eat more, or I shall think you don't like it." She had
+baked it herself.
+
+"Then I cannot refuse, Juffrouw Pieterse. ObligÈ and many thanks."
+
+"And you, Juffrouw Laps, what can I pass you?" Juffrouw Laps selected
+ginger cake.
+
+"Fill the cups, Trudie! Yes, Mrs. Stotter, when you are here you must
+drink with us. You are welcome to anything we've got. Pietje, wipe off
+a table--such a girl! And now go and look after the baby, and tell
+her that I don't want to hear any more noise. Ah, Juffrouw Mabbel,
+children are a great deal of trouble. And your little Sientje--how
+is her cough now?"
+
+"We've got a magnetisier, but that isn't enough. We must have the
+clairvoyange of the sonnebule."
+
+"You don't say so! One can hardly believe it. And when is he coming,
+the cler--cleek--clar----"
+
+"It's in the nerves, Juffrouw Zipperman. But he has the little nightcap
+and nightgown, in which she has sweated, you know; and he says that
+it will come all right now."
+
+"Who would have thought it! What will you do now?"
+
+"That's just it; the sonnebule must tell us what to do."
+
+Juffrouw Laps could not agree to this.
+
+"I wouldn't do it--I wouldn't do it--not for anything in the world! I
+tell you, what God does is all right. Just mark my words!"
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw Laps; but the Juffrouw at the provision store did it,
+and her child is lots better."
+
+"That's what you say, Juffrouw Mabbel, but I tell you there is
+something in her eye that I don't like."
+
+"What then, Juffrouw Laps?"
+
+"She has a look, a look--and it's sin--I tell you it is. It's wrong,
+it won't do. What God does is all right."
+
+"Come, Stoffel, talk some. You sit there like a stone. Recite a poem,
+or tell us something about your school. Would you believe it, Juffrouw
+Mabbel, he knows a whole poem by heart. And he has memorized all the
+verbs of the feminine gender."
+
+"Mother, what are you talking about?" said Stoffel, displeased. "Don't
+you see I'm smoking?"
+
+"Yes, dear, I meant when you were through smoking. Then you can repeat
+the words. You will be surprised, Juffrouw Zipperman, and wonder where
+he learned it all. How does it go? 'I would have been drunk, he would
+have been drunk'--of course, you know, he was not drunk, it belongs
+with the verbs. You will kill yourself laughing when he begins. Fill
+the cups, Trudie, and blow in the spout; there's a leaf over it."
+
+The reader will not take it amiss, I trust, if I pass over the
+subsequent history of this leaf, and, too, make some deviations from
+the text of the conversation during the further course of Juffrouw
+Pieterse's tea-evening. Stoffel spun off his conjugations and the
+ladies fairly shrieked when he related how "he had been drunk" and
+that "he would be drunk." Thereupon followed general and particular
+criticism of the neighbors. The Juffrouw below received her share,
+as a matter of course: She was absent.
+
+Religion and faith play an important part. Juffrouw Laps was for
+organizing a prayer-class. The preachers of to-day, she insisted,
+take their work too lightly and don't sweep out all the corners.
+
+"I tell you, it's in the Bible that man is only man," she cried;
+"that's what I want to tell you. Man must not try to know better than
+God himself. Salvation comes through grace, and grace through faith;
+but if a man is not chosen, then he has no grace and can have no
+faith. That's the way he is damned, don't you see? I tell you, it's
+just as certain as twice two--understand? And for that reason I want
+to have a prayer-class. Not for the sake of money or profit--God help
+me, no! At most just a trifle for the fair, or for New Year. What do
+you think of the plan, Juffrouw Mabbel?"
+
+That lady expressed the opinion that her husband would be opposed to
+it, for he liked to go out of evenings, and then she must stay in the
+shop. Besides, it was so difficult to get through with the work. No
+one could imagine what a laborious occupation baking was.
+
+"What do you say, Juffrouw Zipperman? Don't you think it would be a
+go? I would serve coffee; and the people could leave something on the
+saucers. Really, I am not doing it for the money. We would begin with
+the Old Testament--and then--exercise, you know; practice--understand?"
+
+Juffrouw Zipperman thought it would be very nice; but her son-in-law
+had said that the preachers are paid to do this, and that any
+additional "exercise" was merely an unnecessary expense.
+
+"What do you say to it, Juffrouw Krummel? Don't you think that such
+a class--just a small class----"
+
+Juffrouw Krummel said she practiced with her husband when he came
+from the bourse.
+
+Juffrouw Laps was now forced to turn to Mrs. Stotter, though she felt
+that she was letting herself down in appealing to a Vrouw.
+
+"Ah, my dear Juffrouw Laps, if you had been a midwife as long
+as I have you'd take no interest in a prayer-class. Now there is
+M'neer Littelman in Prince Street. I've been at his house--always in
+respectable houses--and he always said--it's a house with high steps,
+and in the hall there's a big clock about the wind and rain--and he
+always said: 'Vrouw Stotter,' said he, 'you're a good woman,' said he,
+'and a faithful midwife. I always tell the people that,' said he,
+'and,' said he, 'all of my connection must send for you,' said he,
+'but,' said he, 'when people tell you this you must act as if you
+didn't hear it'--thank you, Juffrouw Pieterse, my cup is turned
+over. Just as I said: Everyone must know what he's doing."
+
+"But just a little exercise like that, Mrs. Stotter!"
+
+"It's possible, it's possible. But I've had so much experience in such
+things. I go my own way; and that's the best way, too. For I've been in
+the home of M'neer Witte, who has an uncle in congress--for I always
+go to respectable places--and he always said, because he's so funny:
+'Child-woman, child-woman, you're nothing but a child-woman.' I was
+just going to say that I know what I'm doing, for I've seen a lot in
+my life. There's M'neer--what's his name? There in Prince Street--no,
+no, Market Square. Oh, what is his name!"
+
+The reader will have noticed that Mrs. Stotter digressed from the
+theme. But other folk do the same.
+
+"And Juffrouw Pieterse, what do you think of the idea? Just a little
+exercise."
+
+"Ah, my dear, I have exercise enough with my children. You don't know
+what it means to bring up nine. I always worship with the children,
+for the Bible says--Trudie, go to the baby; I hear her again."
+
+There was something noble in Trudie's gait as she walked into that
+back room. One could see that she felt flattered by the transmission
+to her of maternal dignity. Little Kee, the baby, was less flattered.
+
+"What were we talking about? Yes, that is my religious service. The
+children keep me busy. You don't know anything about it; if I bring
+them up properly--run, Pietje, and straighten out Simon. He's pinching
+his sister again; he always does it when there's company."
+
+Simon was straightened out.
+
+"Whenever we have company the children behave so badly. There it
+goes again. Myntje, go and see what's the matter and tell them to go
+to sleep."
+
+Myntje went, returning immediately with the report that they had
+"turned something over."
+
+General indignation. Angry message from the Juffrouw below. It was
+unpleasant for the Juffrouw below when the children of the Juffrouw
+above turned over things and flooded the back room. Terrible
+excitement.
+
+Finally the children were straightened out.
+
+Juffrouw Zipperman again sat in the corner where there was such a
+"draft." This only goes to show that earthly greatness has its dark
+side, and that a son-in-law in the insurance business entitles one
+to rheumatism.
+
+Juffrouw Laps was greatly pleased with the hearty manner in which
+punishment was meted out to the children. It was exactly according
+to Scripture, she said; and then she cited a text or two in which
+the rod was prescribed. It's in the Bible somewhere, I don't know
+where. The Bible mentions everything, and the "rod" especially.
+
+"Now, Stoffel," said the hostess sweetly, "recite something for
+us." She wanted to show that her children could do something else
+besides pinch and turn things over.
+
+"I don't know anything," said Stoffel, but without a trace of Socratic
+arrogance.
+
+"Just say for us what you said the other day. Come, Stoffel. That's
+the way he always is, Juffrouw Mabbel. One has to pull him up on his
+feet before he will do anything. But then he goes all right. Forward,
+Stoffel! He's tired now. Teaching in such a school is hard work. Yes,
+Juffrouw, he's as smart as he can be. Would you believe it? All words
+are either masculine or feminine. Aren't they, Stoffel?"
+
+"No, mother."
+
+"No? But--and the other day you said--it's only to get him started,
+you know, Juffrouw Zipperman, it takes a little time, because he's
+worn out with his school work--but you said that all words----"
+
+"No, mother. Masculine, feminine or neuter, I said."
+
+"Yes, and still more," said Juffrouw Pieterse. "You will be astonished
+when you hear him. What do you suppose you are, Juffrouw Krummel?"
+
+"I? What I am?"
+
+"Yes, yes, what you are--what you really are."
+
+"I am Juffrouw Krummel," she said, but doubtfully; for she read in
+the triumphant look of Juffrouw Pieterse and the tightly closed lips
+of Stoffel that she might easily be something entirely different from
+Juffrouw Krummel.
+
+The tension did not need to be farther increased; so Juffrouw Pieterse
+passed now from the special to the general. Her glance took in the
+entire company.
+
+"And you, too, Juffrouw Mabbel; and you, Juffrouw Laps; and you,
+Juffrouw Zipperman; and you, Mrs. Stotter--what do you all think
+you are?"
+
+No one knew.
+
+This will not be surprising to anyone who knows how difficult knowledge
+of the "self" is; but Stoffel had something else in mind. There was
+a deeper meaning involved.
+
+Juffrouw Laps was the first to answer, and she spoke with proud
+self-sufficiency:
+
+"I am Juffrouw Laps!"
+
+"Wrong, wrong--entirely wrong!"
+
+"But for Heaven sake, am I not Juffrouw Laps?"
+
+"Y-e-s. Of course you are Juffrouw Laps; but Stoffel didn't ask who
+you were, but what you were. There's the fine point."
+
+"What I am? I'm Dutch Reform!"
+
+"Y-e-s. That you are, too; but--it isn't that. The question is,
+What are you? Help her out, Stoffel."
+
+Between puffs of smoke, and with the air of a professor, Stoffel
+proceeded to "help":
+
+"Juffrouw Laps, I wished to know what you were from a zoˆlogical
+standpoint."
+
+"I won't have anything more to do with it," said Juffrouw Laps in
+the tone of one who feels that he is going to be insulted.
+
+"I am a midwife," said Mrs. Stotter, "and I'm going to stick to it."
+
+"And I am the baker's wife," cried Juffrouw Mabbel, with a positiveness
+in her tone which showed her intention to hold to this opinion.
+
+"Certainly, certainly, Juffrouw Mabbel; but I mean from a zoˆlogical
+standpoint."
+
+"If it's going to be indecent, I prefer to go home."
+
+"I, too," added Juffrouwen Krummel and Zipperman. "We came here to
+be entertained."
+
+"But you're not going to get angry about it! I tell you, it's in
+the book, Stoffel--you will laugh when you hear it, Juffrouw Mabbel;
+and the best part of it is, that it's in the book, and one can't say
+anything against it. Tell her, Stoffel!"
+
+"Juffrouw Laps," said Stoffel with dignity--an important moment in
+Juffrouw Pieterse's tea-evening had arrived--"Juffrouw Laps, you are
+a sucking animal."
+
+I admit frankly that I cannot adequately describe the crisis that
+followed these two words. If Stoffel had only said mammal, perhaps
+then my task would have been easier.
+
+Juffrouw Laps's face took on all the different colors that are
+generally supposed to express anger. She had been attacked more openly
+than the others, it is true; but her attitude toward the prayer-class
+would go to show that she was naturally polemical.
+
+In French novels people used to turn green; but Juffrouw Laps did not
+read French, so she stopped at a terrible violet and screamed--no,
+she didn't. She didn't scream anything; for she was choking for
+breath. But she did pulverize that piece of ginger cake; and she
+looked at Stoffel and his mother in a manner that would have been most
+damaging for her if those two persons had happened to die that night.
+
+Imitating the trick of the cuttle-fish, no doubt unconsciously,
+Stoffel managed to escape this fatal stare by enveloping himself in a
+heavy cloud of smoke. Juffrouw Pieterse, however, not being a smoker,
+was at the mercy of Juffrouw Laps. She stammered humbly: "It's in
+the book, really it's in the book. Don't be angry, it's in the book."
+
+By this time Juffrouw Laps was getting a little air, so much that
+there was now no danger of her suffocating. She threw the mutilated
+remains of the ginger cake on the table and began:
+
+"Juffrouw Pieterse, you are nothing but a low, vile, filthy--you
+may even be a sucking animal, you and your son too. I want you
+to understand that I've always been respectable. My father sold
+grain, and nobody's ever been able to say anything against me! Ask
+everybody about me--if I've ever run with men-folk, and such things;
+and if I haven't always paid my debts. He was manager I would have
+you understand, and we lived over the chapter-house, for he was in
+the grain business, and you can ask about me there. Thank God, you
+can ask about me everywhere--do you hear? But never, never, never,
+has such a thing happened to me. What you put on me! If it wasn't
+for lowering myself I'd tell you what I think of you--you sucking
+animal, you and your son and your whole family. My father sold grain,
+and I'm too respectable for you to----"
+
+"But--it's in the book that way. For God's sake believe me; it's in
+the book."
+
+"Just hold your lip about your book. Anybody who sells God's holy
+word on the Ouwebrug needn't talk to me about books."
+
+This accusation was false; for Walter, and not his mother, had sold
+the Bible; but this was no time for such fine distinctions.
+
+"Stoffel, go get the book and show Juffrouw--my God, what shall I do!"
+
+"Go to the Devil with your book and your sucking animals. You've got
+nothing to show in your book. I know you--and your lout of a son,
+and your wenches of daughters, that are growing up like----"
+
+Truitje, Myntje and Pietje, understanding from this that there
+was something radically wrong with their growth, began to screech
+too. Other members of the party bawled a word from time to time,
+as opportunity presented itself. Then came another message from the
+Juffrouw below. This time she threatened to call in the police. The
+children, taking advantage of the general excitement to break the
+ban under which they had been placed, had left the bed and were
+now listening at the keyhole. Juffrouw Pieterse was calling for the
+camphor bottle, declaring that she was going to die; Mrs. Stotter
+was clamoring for her wrap--her "old one"; and Stoffel was playing
+cuttle-fish as well as he could.
+
+All had got up and were going to leave. They could "put up with a
+good deal," but that was "too much"! Juffrouw Krummel was going to
+tell her husband; Juffrouw Zipperman was going to let everybody in the
+insurance business know about it; Mrs. Stotter was going to relate the
+whole story to the gentleman in Prince Street; and Juffrouw Mabbel--I
+forget whom she was going to tell it all to. In short, every one of
+them was going to see to it that the affair was well aired.
+
+Who knows but what these threats would have been carried out, if the
+good genius of the Pieterses had not at that moment caused someone
+to ring the door-bell? It was that worthy gentleman whom we left in
+such a state of pious despair at the close of the last chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+Yes, the door-bell rang. And it rang again: So it was "for
+us." Juffrouw Pieterse drew a long breath; and I must say, she did
+a very proper thing. While admitting that it is foolish to say what
+one would do if one were somebody else, still, in her place I should
+have drawn a long breath, too. Firstly, because I imagine she hadn't
+done this for a long time; secondly, because I know how, in adverse
+circumstances, every change and interruption gives one ground for
+hope; and, finally, because I think Juffrouw Pieterse was human,
+just like the rest of us.
+
+"Ah, my dears," she said, "be peaceable. It must be the gentlemen."
+
+The ladies declared it couldn't be the gentlemen, because it was
+too early for them; and this very doubt and uncertainty as to who it
+might be gave the crisis a favorable turn.
+
+Mere uncertainty, even when in no way connected with what is occupying
+us, has a sort of paralyzing effect. Besides, when one is interrupted
+in one's anger, afterwards it is difficult to find the place where
+one left off.
+
+This was Juffrouw Laps's experience; she tried it, but it wouldn't
+work. Her "a sucking animal, a sucking animal!" was smothered by,
+"What can it mean? He never comes before ten!"
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse quickly availed herself of this diversion to get
+them all seated again.
+
+Trudie was commissioned to "straighten out" the children, who came off
+rather badly. The hostess was just about to state a new zoˆlogical
+argument, which should establish peace between the hostile parties,
+when the door opened and Master Pennewip stood before the agitated
+assembly.
+
+He, too, was agitated: the reader knows it.
+
+The surprise caused by the arrival of this unexpected visitor had a
+most favorable effect on the peace negotiations. A truce was tacitly
+declared, though not without the proviso, at least on Juffrouw Laps's
+part, that hostilities should be reopened as soon as curiosity as to
+Pennewip's visit had been sufficiently satisfied. Indeed, she was
+all the more willing for a truce, as it was evident from the man's
+appearance that there was something momentous at hand. His wig cried
+out fire and murder in unmistakable tones. And that was just what
+the good Juffrouw Laps liked.
+
+"Good-evening, Juffrouw Pieterse; my humblest respects. I see you
+have company, but----"
+
+"That 'doesn't make a bit of difference,' Master Pennewip. 'Come
+right in and take a seat.'"
+
+These forms of expression were rigidly observed in the "citizen
+populace," III, 7. c.
+
+"Won't you drink a cup with us?"
+
+"Juffrouw Pieterse," he said with extreme dignity, "I didn't come
+here simply to drink a cup of sage-milk."
+
+"But, Master Pennewip, please be seated!"
+
+It wasn't easy; but the ladies made room and he was soon seated.
+
+He cleared up his throat and looked about him with dignity. Then
+he drew a roll of manuscript from his pocket, disarranged his wig
+and spoke:
+
+"Juffrouw Pieterse! You are a worthy, respectable woman, and your
+husband sold shoes----"
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse looked triumphantly at Juffrouw Laps.
+
+"Yes, Master Pennewip, quite so; he did----"
+
+"Don't interrupt me, Juffrouw Pieterse. Your departed husband sold
+shoes. I have taught your children from little tots up to their
+confirmation. Haven't I, Juffrouw Pieterse?"
+
+"Yes, Master Pennewip," she replied modestly; for she was afraid of
+that excessive dignity in Pennewip's manner and voice.
+
+"And I just want to ask you, Juffrouw Pieterse, whether, during all
+this time that your children were in my school, you ever heard any
+complaints--reasonable complaints--of the manner in which I, with
+my wife, instructed your children in reading, writing, arithmetic,
+national history, psalmody, sewing, knitting, drawing and religion? I
+put the question to you, Juffrouw Pieterse, and wait for a reply."
+
+An awful silence followed this speech. The Juffrouw below had every
+reason to be satisfied.
+
+"But, Master Pennewip----"
+
+"I don't want any 'but', Juffrouw Pieterse. I ask you, whether you
+have had any complaints. I mean, of course, well grounded complaints
+about my instruction in reading, writing, arithmetic----"
+
+"Well, no, Master Pennewip, I have no complaints; but----"
+
+"So-oo? No complaints? Well, then I will explain to you--where is
+your son Walter?"
+
+"Walter? Dear me! Hasn't he come home, Trudie? He went to take a
+walk with the Halleman boys. They are such respectable children,
+Master Pennewip, and they live----"
+
+"So! With the Hallemans--who go to the French school! Aha, and
+that's it? So--from the Hallemans! And he learns such things from the
+Hallemans--the Hallemans III, 7, a2, perhaps 'a'--yes, who knows but
+that it might be II. It's no wonder--immorality, viciousness--at the
+French school! And now, Juffrouw Pieterse, I want to tell you that
+your son----"
+
+"What did you say?"
+
+Master Pennewip looked about him as if he were drinking in the
+breathless silence that had fallen over his hearers.
+
+Juffrouw Laps hastened to repay with compound interest that triumphant
+look of the hostess, while that lady, thoroughly miserable, was making
+frequent use of the camphor bottle. She was not so much mortified that
+Juffrouw Laps should hear something else unfavorable about Walter,
+who had caused them so much trouble, as angry that she should be
+the witness of an accusation that would give her a new weapon in the
+zoˆlogical fray.
+
+"Didn't I tell you so? Nothing good will ever come to this Walter. A
+boy that begins with the Bible will end with something else. Yes,
+Master Pennewip, I'm not surprised--I shouldn't be surprised at
+anything he did. I've seen it coming for a long time. But what
+shouldn't one expect from a family----"
+
+As quick as a flash Juffrouw Pieterse saw here her opportunity to
+recover her lost advantage. Stoffel had said it was in the book;
+but a teacher must know whatever is in a book. Therefore----
+
+"Master Pennewip," she cried, "Is it true that Juffrouw Laps is a
+sucking animal?"
+
+I am convinced that Pennewip brought this question under a special
+category for "peculiar overflowings of the heart," seeing that it
+followed upon his unfinished accusation against Walter. He looked
+over his glasses and slowly described with his eye a circle, peopled
+with women holding their breath, heads and necks stretched out and
+mouths wide open. The attitude of Juffrouw Laps was threatening above
+everything else, and said quite distinctly: Answer or die! Am I a
+sucking animal?
+
+"With whom have I the honor to speak?" he asked, probably not
+considering that this question made the matter still more mysterious,
+giving the impression that Laps's animal quality depended upon her
+name, age, place of residence, family relations, etc.
+
+"I am Juffrouw Laps," she said, "and live down stairs in the front
+part of the house."
+
+"Ah--so! Yes, indeed you belong to the class of sucking animals."
+
+A ten-fold sigh was heaved; and Juffrouw Pieterse was again
+triumphant. In politics and the citizen populace complete equilibrium
+is impossible. The parties or powers are in continual motion, first
+one in the ascendency, then the other.
+
+Juffrouw Laps, who had not been able to accomplish anything with pride,
+now attempted good humor.
+
+"But Master Pennewip," she said sweetly, "how can you say such a
+thing? My father was in the grain business and----"
+
+"Juffrouw Laps, answer me one question."
+
+"Yes, Master Pennewip, but----"
+
+"Answer me, Juffrouw Laps, where do you live?"
+
+"Where I live? Why, in my room, down stairs--two windows--front
+entrance----"
+
+"You miss the significance of my question entirely, Juffrouw Laps. The
+meaning would be similar if I were to ask you if you belonged to that
+class of organisms that live in oyster-shells."
+
+"Yes, yes, Juffrouw Laps," cried the triumphant hostess, "that's the
+point--the main point!"
+
+And Stoffel added that it was really and truly the main point.
+
+Juffrouw Laps saw that she was hopelessly lost, for she had to admit to
+herself that she didn't usually reside in an oyster-shell. She looked
+at the teacher with astonishment; but he paid no attention at all to
+the effect of his questions. Assuming a sort of legal manner--which
+was closely imitated by his wig, he continued:
+
+"Can you live in water? Have you gills?"
+
+"In water? But--Master Pennewip----"
+
+Wig to the left, which meant: No, but!
+
+"Or half in water, half on land?"
+
+"Master Pennewip, how should I----"
+
+Wig to the right: No subterfuges.
+
+"Answer me, Juffrouw Laps, have you cold blood? Do you bring living
+young into the world?"
+
+"It is a sin, Master Pennewip!"
+
+The wig now looked like a battering-ram, anticipating the nature of
+the next question.
+
+"Can you lay eggs, Juffrouw Laps? I only ask you the question. Can
+you lay eggs? Eh?"
+
+She said she couldn't.
+
+"Then you are a sucking animal, Juffrouw Laps!"
+
+The wig was in the middle again resting quietly. It had vanquished
+Juffrouw Laps.
+
+I wonder what the reader's idea is of the effect produced on the
+company by this terrible sentence, against which there could be no
+appeal. There was something pitiless in Pennewip's manner, and in
+his contracted eyebrows there was no intimation of mercy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+The attentive reader who knows human nature will naturally wish to
+know why I closed the last chapter so tamely, and why that zoˆlogical
+problem which, only a short time before had caused such a violent
+explosion, was now allowed to rest in peace.
+
+There are three reasons for this.
+
+Firstly, the women had been so wrought up that they were now exhausted.
+
+Secondly, Juffrouw Laps, the shrewd leader of the fight, looked over
+the battlefield and, without thinking of the famous battle between
+the Horatii and the Curiatii, saw with innate tactical talent the
+correctness of "divide and conquer." With the forces Stotter, Mabbel,
+Krummel and Zipperman against the house of Pieterse--that was all
+right. But now that the house was supported by Pennewip's powerful
+hand, it was prudent to withdraw from the battle. For who could
+guarantee her that she might depend upon her allies? What assurance
+had she that the midwife, or even Juffrouw Zipperman would not go over
+to the enemy?--if only out of deference to the versatile wig! No, no,
+no! She wouldn't risk her rhetorical artillery in such a doubtful
+engagement! She was content to say to herself, "I will get even
+with you later." Imagining her, with all her relations to society,
+multiplied by twenty or thirty millions, we would have read the next
+day in this or that official Laps organ something like this:
+
+"Our relations with the Pietersian empire are most cordial. The
+recent friendly meeting between the two sovereigns was merely that
+they might have the mutual pleasure of seeing one another, and had
+no political significance whatever. It will be seen how unfounded
+were those rumors of 'strained relations,' which were said to have
+been brought about by a discussion of certain characteristics of our
+popular princess. The reader will recall that we never gave credence
+to those rumors, and reported them with great reserve."
+
+Thirdly. The third and chief cause of the armistice
+was--curiosity. Under the present changed circumstances whoever
+betrayed any anger would have to leave; and whoever left would not
+find out why Master Pennewip had come, or what new crime Walter had
+committed. Again we see the truth of the proposition, that everything
+has its good side.
+
+"But, Master Pennewip," asked Juffrouw Pieterse--she threw the
+subdued sucking animal a look that was like a triumphant telegram,
+and read: Where are you now?--"but Master Pennewip, what has Walter
+been doing now?"
+
+"Yes, what has he been up to this time," added Juffrouw Laps, delighted
+that the conversation had taken this turn, and that she was now to
+hear about Walter's latest sin.
+
+For the sinner is a thing in which pious persons find much
+edification. As we have already seen, Juffrouw Laps was fond of
+edification.
+
+Pennewip was just on the point of beginning his indictment when the
+door-bell rang. It rang again: "It's for us"--and in a moment our
+truant walked into the room.
+
+He was paler than usual, and with good reason; for strange things
+had happened to him since Fancy had lifted him up and borne him away.
+
+"Juffrouw Pieterse," began Pennewip, "my school is famous, even as
+far away as Kattenburg. Do you hear me?"
+
+"Yes, Master Pennewip."
+
+"I repeat it: Famous! And, too, chiefly on account of the fine moral
+there--I mean, of course, in my school. Religion and morality occupy
+the first place in my school. I could show you verses on the Deity--but
+I pass over that. It is sufficient for you to know that my school is
+famous as far as--but what am I talking about--I've even had a boy
+from Wittenburg; and I was once consulted about the education of a
+boy whose father lived at Muiderberg."
+
+"Oh, Master Pennewip!"
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw, I still have the letter and could show it to you. The
+man was a gravedigger--the boy painted inappropriate figures on
+the coffins. And just for this reason I feel it my duty to tell you
+that I don't intend to see my school lose its good name through that
+good-for-nothing boy of yours there!"
+
+Poor Walter had fallen from the clouds. That sounded quite different
+from a papal appointment--which he really no longer cared for, as he
+had just received another appointment that pleased him better.
+
+His mother wanted to pass immediately to what she called her "divine
+worship" and give him a sound thrashing, in order to satisfy the
+teacher that religion and morality took the first place in her
+house, too.
+
+But the teacher found it preferable to tell the party what the
+trouble was, and incidentally to strengthen the feeling of guilt in
+the patient.
+
+"Your son belongs to the class of robbers, murderers, ravishers of
+women, incendiaries----"
+
+That was all.
+
+"Holy grace! Heavenly righteousness! Compassionate Christian souls! Ah,
+divine and human virtue, is it possible! What must we endure!"
+
+I cannot always be exact; but, in general, such was the flood of
+exclamations that all but swept away that ten-year-old robber,
+murderer, ravisher of women and incendiary.
+
+"I am going to read you something from his hand," said the teacher,
+"and then if anybody still doubts the boy's viciousness----"
+
+All tacitly promised to have no doubts.
+
+The work that the teacher read was indeed of such a nature as to leave
+small room for doubts; and I, who have chosen Walter for my hero,
+anticipate difficulty in convincing the reader that he was not so
+bad as he seemed--after his
+
+
+    "Robber Song."
+
+    "On the steed,
+    Off I speed,
+    With helmet on head
+    And a sword in my hand and the enemy dead;
+    Quick, away!"
+
+
+"Christian souls," cried the whole party, "is he mad?"
+
+
+    "Rather late,
+    Near the gate
+    A push and a blow,
+    Vanquished dragoon, Margrave laid low----"
+
+
+"Heaven save us, what has he against the Margrave," wailed the mother.
+
+
+    "For the spoil!"
+
+
+"Don't you see, it's for booty," said Juffrouw Laps. "I told you so:
+He began with the Bible, he'll end with----"
+
+
+    "And the prize--
+    Pretty eyes----"
+
+
+"Did you ever hear the like--he has scarcely shed his milk teeth!"
+
+
+    "And the prize--
+    Pretty eyes--
+    She was bought with steel----"
+
+
+"With ste-e-l!"
+
+
+    "And the prize--
+    Pretty eyes--
+    She was bought with steel;
+    I bore her away to the cave just to feel
+    How it seemed."
+
+
+"Heavenly grace, what is he going to do in the cave?"
+
+
+    "In my arm,
+    Free from harm
+    Lay the maid as we sped;
+    Her cries, sweet complaints, and the tears----"
+
+
+"Oh, blessed peace, and the poor thing crying!"
+
+
+    "Her cries, sweet complaints, and the tears she shed--
+    O, delight!"
+
+
+"And he calls that delight! I'm getting right cold."
+
+
+    "Then again,
+    O'er the plain----"
+
+
+"Holy Father, there he goes again!"
+
+
+    "Then again,
+    O'er the plain.
+    Right and left, nothing spurned,
+    Here a villa destroyed or a cloister burned
+    For fun."
+
+
+"The Devil is in that boy. For fun!"
+
+
+    "Farther yet,
+    I forget--
+    But the deeds they were dire,
+    And the road was marked with blood and fire
+    And revenge!"
+
+
+"Mercy on us! What had they done to him!"
+
+
+    "Revenge's sweet,
+    And is meet
+    For the King of the World----"
+
+
+"Is he crazy? I'll make him a king!"
+
+
+    "Revenge's sweet
+    And is meet
+    For the King of the World,
+    Who alone is supreme, with a banner unfurled
+    Forever!"
+
+
+"What sort of a thing is he talking about?"
+
+
+    "All! Hurrah!
+    But, I say----"
+
+
+Everybody shuddered.
+
+
+    "All! Hurrah!
+    But, I say
+    No pardon shall be lavished,
+    The men shall be hanged and the women----"
+
+
+"Trudie, Trudie, the camphor bottle! You see--I----"
+
+
+    "The men shall be hanged and the women ravished----"
+
+
+"The camphor bottle! Trudie, Trudie!"
+
+
+    "For pleasure!"
+
+
+"For pleasure," repeated the teacher in a grave-yard voice, "for
+pleasure!"
+
+"He--does--it--for--pleasure!"
+
+The company was stupefied. Even Stoffel's pipe had gone out.
+
+But Walter's was not a nature to be easily disturbed. After his mother
+had beaten him till she came to her senses again, he went to bed
+in the little back room, far from dissatisfied with the day's work,
+and was soon dreaming of Fancy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+On the next day things had largely resumed their wonted course. That
+someone may not charge me with carelessness, or indifference towards
+the persons with whom we spent a pleasant evening, I will remark
+in passing that Juffrouw Mabbel was again busy with her baking and
+"clairvoyange," and that Mrs. Stotter had resumed her activities with
+the stork. Those unfortunate creatures who were committed to her care
+she condemned to lie motionless for two or three months--perhaps to
+give the newly born an idea of their new career, and, at the same time,
+to punish them for the shameful uproar they had caused by their birth.
+
+As for Master Pennewip, he was busy, as usual, educating future
+grandparents of the past. His wig had not yet recovered from the
+excitement of the night before and was longing for Sunday.
+
+Klaasje van der Gracht had been awarded the prize with an impressive,
+"Keep on that way, my boy"; and he kept on. I still see poems in
+the papers whose clearness, conciseness and sublimity betray his
+master hand. I have heard that he died of smallpox--he had not been
+vaccinated; it will be remembered--but I consider it my duty to
+protect him from any such slander. A genius does not die; otherwise
+it wouldn't be worth while to be born a genius. Still, if Klaas had
+died like other people, his spirit would have lived in those coming
+after him. And that is a beautiful immortality.
+
+The family de Wilde, too, has not died out, and will not die. I am
+certain of it.
+
+Juffrouw Krummel asked her husband if she was really a "sucking
+animal." Being from the bourse, and having much worldly wisdom, he
+replied after reflection that of such things he didn't believe more
+than half he heard. "In this case the last half," he added--but softly.
+
+Juffrouw Zipperman had caught a cold; but was still able to boast
+about her son-in-law. She was a "respectable woman." Only she couldn't
+endure for Juffrouw Laps to talk so much about "virtue," and the
+"respectability" of her father, who was "in the grain business." Old
+Man Laps, she said, was not in, but under the grain business. He had
+carried sacks of grain, but that was quite different from selling
+grain. For the man who sells is much bigger than the man who
+carries. Juffrouw, therefore, had been making misleading statements.
+
+Trudie and her sisters had decked themselves out as well as possible
+and were sitting at the window. When young people passed by they
+looked as if they had never in their lives straightened out anybody.
+
+The Juffrouw in the rear below told the grocer that she was going
+to move out; for it was just scandalous, simply scandalous the way
+the Pieterses carried on in their back room; that she couldn't leave
+anything uncovered.
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse was busy with her household, and looked like
+a working woman. From time to time she had "divine service" with
+the children, who, if they could have had their choice, would have
+preferred to have been born among the Alfures, Dajaks, or some other
+benighted people whose religion is less strenuous.
+
+I am glad to be able to say that Juffrouw Laps had passed a good
+night. I should like to tell more about her, but I don't care to
+exhaust myself.
+
+Stoffel had returned to school, and was trying to inspire the boys with
+contempt for riches. He was using on them a poem that had probably
+been written in a garret by some poor devil or other whose wealth
+gave him little cause for complaint. The boys were inattentive,
+and seemed not to grasp the peculiar pleasure in having no money to
+buy marbles. Stoffel attributed their hard-heartedness to Walter's
+crazy ideas: They had heard of his attack on the Margrave and of that
+remarkable visit to the cave.
+
+And Walter?
+
+He still lived in expectation of the punishment he deserved so
+richly. For his mother had given him to understand repeatedly that
+the little "straightening out" of the evening before was merely for
+practice, and that the reward of his sin would be delayed till she
+could speak with the preacher about it.
+
+In the meanwhile Walter didn't know what to do. He couldn't return
+to school: Pennewip had closed for him that fountain of knowledge.
+
+Nor was he allowed to go out for a walk. "Who knows what he will do
+if I let him out of my sight?" said his mother, who was presumably
+afraid that he might make a fresh attack on the cloisters. As a matter
+of fact, she denied him this privilege merely because Walter asked it.
+
+She expressed the opinion that it was best not to let bad children
+have their own way.
+
+If Walter had been right wise, he would have pretended to be thoroughly
+in love with that dark back room; then, for his moral improvement,
+he would have been chased down the steps, and away to his sawmills.
+
+But Walter was not smart.
+
+He was forbidden to go into the front room because the young ladies
+did not care to see him.
+
+That back room was more than dark: It was narrow, and dirty,
+and reeked with all the fumes of "III, 7, c." But Walter was used
+to all this and much more. He had always been a martyr--bandages,
+poultices, bandy legs, biblical history, rickets, poems on goodness,
+evening prayers, the judgment day, hobgoblins for wicked children,
+closed eyes before and after the slice of bread, sleeping with crooked
+knees, committing sins, fear for the torn breeches, "divine service"
+with and without sensible accompaniment!
+
+That droll robber song, whose origin we know so well, shows how easily
+his childish soul was moved by whatever seemed great to him. He was a
+pure child, and he was a good boy. He wouldn't have hurt a fly. The
+criminal character of his song was due to his desire to grasp what
+is greater than everything else and to be the leader in that world
+created by his childish fancy.
+
+Robber--good! But a first-class robber, a robber of robbers, a robber
+without mercy--for pleasure!
+
+As to the gross mistreatment of women mentioned in his song, he had
+no idea what it meant. He used the word for the sake of rhyme, and
+because from certain sentences in his book he had got the impression
+that it must afford great pleasure.
+
+If, perchance, for those fourteen stivers Grandisson--weary
+remembrance--had fallen into his hands, his Wednesday's poem would have
+been quite different. No doubt he would have sought a reconciliation
+with the butcher's Keesje, forgiving him completely all his liberties
+with "Holland nobility" and even presenting him a few slate pencils.
+
+For that is the striking characteristic of spirits such as
+Walter's. Whatever they are, they are that with all their might,
+always going further in any direction than they would seem to be
+warranted in doing by the mere external circumstances.
+
+From such characters we could hope much, if through some chance--i. e.,
+a natural cause, which we call chance, because we do not understand
+it and are ashamed to admit our ignorance--if through some chance
+they were not born among people who do not understand them, and,
+therefore, mistreat them.
+
+It is one of our peculiarities that we like to mistreat anyone
+whose soul is differently organized from ours. How does the watch
+move? asks the child, and cannot rest until he has torn apart the
+wheels he could not understand. There the watch lies in pieces, and
+the little miscreant excuses himself with the remark that he just
+wanted to see how it was made.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+Walter sat with his elbows on the table, his chin resting in his
+hands. He seemed to be deeply interested in Leentje's sewing, but
+we shall see in a moment that his thoughts were elsewhere, and, too,
+far away from III. 7, c.
+
+They had forbidden her to speak to the shameless rascal, and only
+occasionally, when Juffrouw Pieterse left the room, did she have an
+opportunity to whisper to him a few words of comfort. To be sure,
+she noticed that Walter was not so sad as we should expect one to be
+who was caught in between the thrashing of yesterday and the priest of
+to-morrow. This gentleman was to come to-morrow to settle the matter.
+
+"But, Walter, how could you speak of burning cloisters!"
+
+"Ah, I meant--sh!"
+
+"And the Count--what had he done?"
+
+"It was a Margrave--sh!"
+
+"What sort of a count is that? I'll bet he was one out of another
+house."
+
+"Yes, it was Amalia's father--but that isn't it. I have something to
+tell you, Leentje--sh!"
+
+"Amalia--who is Amalia?"
+
+"That was my bride, but--Leentje, I wanted to tell you something--sh!"
+
+"Your bride! Are you mad, Walter? Your bride?"
+
+"Yes, she was; but now no more. I was going to help her--but a duck
+came--but that isn't it, Leentje. Now I see it all--sh. I swam by--sh!"
+
+"Who, what? Swam by?"
+
+"By Amalia. She sat on the rushes--now I understand it all--I am--sh!"
+
+"I don't understand a word, Walter. But the women--why did you
+want to----"
+
+Poor innocent Leentje.
+
+"The women were in the book--but listen, I am--sh!"
+
+"And the cloisters?"
+
+"That has nothing to do with it--I know everything now. Listen Leentje,
+I am--sh!"
+
+"For Heaven sake, Walter, what's the matter with you? You look as if
+you were mad."
+
+Walter had a vision. He stretched himself up, cast a proud glance
+at the beams in the ceiling, placed his right hand over his heart,
+extended his left, as if he were draping a Spanish mantle about
+him--remember that he had never been in a theatre--and said:
+
+"Leentje, I am a prince."
+
+At that moment his mother came in, boxed his ears and sent him out
+of the room.
+
+
+
+Walter's principality was in the moon--no, much farther away.
+
+In the following the reader shall learn how he had attained to this
+new dignity.
+
+Long before the beginning of this story--yes, a long time before
+this--there was a queen of spirits, just like in "Hans Heiling." Her
+name was A----o.
+
+She did not live in a cave, but held her court far up in the clouds;
+and this was airier and more suitable for a queen.
+
+She wore a necklace of stars, and a sun was set in her signet-ring.
+
+Whenever she went forth, the clouds flew about like dust, and with
+a motion of her hand she drove away the firmaments.
+
+Her children played with planets as with marbles, and she complained
+that it was so difficult for her to find them again when they had
+rolled away under the furniture.
+
+The little son of the queen, Prince Upsilon, was peevish over this
+and was continually calling for more playthings.
+
+The queen then gave him a sack of siriuses; but in a short time these,
+too, were all lost. It was Upsilon's own fault: He ought to have paid
+more attention to his playthings.
+
+They tried to satisfy him as best they could, but no matter what they
+gave him, he always wanted something else, something larger. This
+was a defect in the character of the little prince.
+
+The mother, who, as queen of the spirits, was a very intelligent woman,
+thought it would be a good idea for the little prince to accustom
+himself to privations.
+
+She issued an order, therefore, that for a certain time Upsilon was
+to have no playthings.
+
+The order was carried out. Everything was taken away from him,
+even the comet that he and his little sister Omicron happened to be
+playing with.
+
+Prince Upsilon was somewhat stubborn. He so far forgot himself one
+day as to speak disrespectfully to his mother.
+
+Even Princess Omicron was contaminated by his example--nothing is
+worse than a bad example--and violently threw her pallet against the
+universe. That was not becoming in a girl.
+
+Now, in the kingdom of spirits, there was a law to the effect, that
+anyone showing disrespect toward the queen, or throwing anything
+against the universe, should be deprived of all titles and dignities
+for a certain length of time.
+
+Prince Upsilon became a grain of sand.
+
+After he had behaved himself well in this capacity for a few centuries
+he received the news that he had been promoted to be a moss plant.
+
+Then one morning he woke up and found himself a coral zoˆphyte.
+
+That occurred about the time that man began to cook his food.
+
+He was industrious, building up islands and continents on the earth. In
+recognition of his zeal he was turned into a crab.
+
+In this capacity, too, there could be no complaint against him,
+and he was soon transferred to the class of sea-serpents.
+
+He played some innocent pranks on sailors, but he never harmed
+anyone. Soon he received four feet and the rank of a mastodon, with
+the privilege of roaming over the land.
+
+With the self-control of a philosopher he entered upon his new life,
+busying himself with geological investigations.
+
+A few centuries later--remember that in the kingdom of spirits all time
+taken together is only as a short quarter of an hour--or to speak more
+correctly, that all time is nothing. For time was made merely for man,
+for his amusement, and given to him just as we give picture books to
+children. For spirits, present, past and future are all the same. They
+comprehend yesterday, to-day and to-morrow at a glance, just as one
+reads a word without spelling it out. What was and is going to be, is.
+
+The Egyptians and Phoenicians knew that very well, but Christians
+have forgotten it.
+
+Fancy knew that Walter could not read, so she related Upsilon's story
+to him, just as I am doing for the reader.
+
+Some centuries later he had become an elephant; then a moment later,
+i. e., about ten years before the opening of my story--I mean years
+as we mortals reckon them--he was elevated to the class of man.
+
+I don't know what sins he may have committed as an elephant.
+
+Anyway, Fancy had said, that in order to return to his station as a
+spirit-prince in a short time and escape any further degradation it
+was necessary for him to be diligent and well behaved in his present
+state, and not write any robber songs, or slip out things and sell
+them--even if it was only a Bible.
+
+And, too, he must become reconciled to seeing Juffrouw Pieterse
+without a train on her dress. Fancy said it couldn't be helped.
+
+This "Fancy" must have been some lady at his mother's court, who
+visited him in his exile to comfort and encourage him, so that
+he wouldn't think they were punishing him because they were angry
+with him.
+
+She promised to visit him from time to time. "But," asked Walter,
+"how is my little sister getting along?"
+
+"She's being punished, too. You know the law. She is patient with
+it all and promises to improve. At first she was a fire-ball; but
+she behaved so nicely that she was soon changed to a moon-beam; and
+also in this state there was nothing against her. It seemed to be
+a pleasure for her; and it was all her mother could do to keep from
+shortening the punishment. She was soon turned into vapor, and stood
+the test well; for she filled the universe. That was about the time
+you began to eat grass. Soon she was a butterfly. But your mother
+did not consider this suitable for a girl and had her changed into
+a constellation. There she stands before us now."
+
+It often happens that we do not see a thing because it is too big.
+
+"Look," said Fancy. "There--to the right! No, further--there,
+there--the north star! That is her left eye. You can't see her right,
+because she is bending over towards Orion, the doll which she holds
+in her lap and caresses."
+
+Walter saw it plainly enough and cried: "Omicron, Omicron!"
+
+"No, no, prince," said the lady of the court, "that will not do. Each
+must undergo his punishment alone. It's already a great concession
+that you two are imprisoned in the same universe. Recently, when your
+little brothers flooded the milky way with sin, they were separated
+completely."
+
+Walter was sad. How gladly would he have kissed his little
+sister!--that group of stars nursing the doll.
+
+"Ah, Fancy, let me be with Omicron."
+
+Fancy said neither yes nor no.
+
+She looked as if she were reflecting on the possibility of
+accomplishing the almost impossible.
+
+Walter, taking courage from her hesitation, repeated his request.
+
+"Ah, let me live with my little sister again, even if I have to eat
+grass or build continents--I will eat and build with pleasure, if I
+may only be with Omicron."
+
+Probably Fancy was afraid to promise something beyond her power;
+and she was sorry not to be able to give her promise.
+
+"I will ask," she whispered, "and now----"
+
+Walter rubbed his eyes. There was the bridge and the ditch. He heard
+the ducks cackling from the distance. He saw his mills again. Yes, yes,
+there they were. But their name was no longer--what was their name?
+
+The mills were called "Morning Hour" and "Eagle," and they called
+out just like other sawmills: "Karre, karre, kra, kra----"
+
+Thereupon Walter went home. We have already seen what awaited him
+there.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+The preacher had come and gone. Sentence had been passed and the
+penalty paid. But Walter was depressed and despondent. Leentje did
+her best to put some animation into him, but in vain. Perhaps it was
+because she no longer understood her ward.
+
+Those confidential communications of Walter's were beyond her
+comprehension; and often she looked at him as if she doubted his
+sanity. From her meagre weekly allowance she saved a few doits,
+thinking to gladden Walter's heart with some ginger cakes, which he
+had always enjoyed. It was no use: Walter's soul had outgrown ginger
+cakes. This discovery caused Leentje bitter pain.
+
+"But, my dear child, be reasonable, and don't worry over such
+foolishness. This Fancy, or whatever the creature's name is, has
+mocked you; or you have dreamed it all."
+
+"No, no, no, Leentje. It's all true. I know everything she said,
+and it's all true."
+
+"But, Walter, that story about your sister--you would have known that
+long ago."
+
+"I did know it, but I had forgotten it. I knew everything that Fancy
+told me. It had only slipped out of my mind. When she spoke, then it
+all came back to me distinctly."
+
+"I will go to those mills some day," said Leentje.
+
+And she did it. After Walter's description she was able to find
+the place where that important meeting had taken place. She saw
+the timbers, the dirt, the ducks, the meadow--everything was there,
+even the ashes,--everything except Fancy and her stories.
+
+Nor could Walter find Fancy now. In vain did he go out walking with
+those respectable Halleman boys as often as he was in the way at
+home. For hours he would stand on the bridge and listen to the rattling
+of the sawmills; but they told him nothing, and Fancy would not return.
+
+"She has too much to do at my mother's court," Walter sighed, and
+went home sad and disappointed.
+
+When he looked out the window and saw the beautiful stars twinkling
+encouragement to him, he cheered up a little. His sadness was less
+bitter, but it was still there. Pain passed into home-sickness,
+a sweet longing for home, and with tears in his eyes, but no longer
+despairing, he whispered "Omicron, Omicron!"
+
+Who heard that call, or understood his grief over his exile? Who
+observed how that sigh for the "higher" and that fiery desire had
+passed into a nobler state?
+
+After long deliberations and Walter's express promise to do better,
+Master Pennewip had at last been prevailed upon to allow our young
+robber to return to school. He now had the opportunity to perfect
+himself in verse-writing, penmanship, verbs, "Holland Counts" and
+other equally important things.
+
+The teacher said that the boy at Muiderberg had been still worse,
+and he had known what to prescribe. Walter would do all right now,
+he thought; but Juffrouw Pieterse must get another pastor, for the
+present one belonged to the class of "drinkers." This she did. Walter
+was to receive religious instruction from a real preacher.
+
+I don't remember the title of the book, but the first lines were:
+
+
+    "Q. From whom did you and everything in existence have its origin?"
+
+
+Walter wanted to say, From my mother; but the book said:
+
+
+    "Ans. From God, who made everything out of nothing."
+
+    "Q. How do you know that?"
+
+    "Ans. From nature and revelation."
+
+
+Walter didn't know what it meant, but like the good-natured,
+obedient child that he was, he repeated faithfully what he had
+memorized from the book. It was annoying for him to have his
+Sundays spoiled by recitations in the Kings of Israel--days so well
+suited for rambling. He was jealous of the Jews, who were always led
+away--a misfortune that seemed delightful to him. But he worked away
+patiently, and was not the worst of those apprentices in religion. At
+the end of the year he received a book containing three hundred and
+sixty-five scriptural texts, twenty-one prayers, as many graces,
+the Lord's Prayer, the ten commandments and the articles of faith. It
+also contained directions for using it--once a day through the year,
+three times a day for a week, etc., etc.; or simply use as needed. On
+a leaf pasted in the front of the book was written:
+
+
+                           To Walter Pieterse
+                                  as a
+                                 Reward
+                                  for
+                         Excellent recitations
+                                 in the
+                              Noorderkerk
+                               and as an
+                             Encouragement
+                         for him to continue to
+                               Honor God
+                  in the manner in which he has begun.
+
+
+Under this were the names of the preacher and the officers of the
+church, ornamented with flourishes that would have put Pennewip
+to shame.
+
+The outward respectability of the Hallemans continued to increase. The
+parents of these children had hired a garden on the "Overtoom." That
+was so "far out," they said; and then they "couldn't stay in the
+city forever." Besides, the expense was "not so much"; for there was
+one gardener for everybody; and then, there were plenty of berries
+growing there, and that was always very nice. There would be grass
+enough for bleaching the linen--an important item, for just lately,
+said the mother of the Hallemans, there had been iron-rust in Betty's
+dress. For that reason it was the very thing to rent the garden;
+and if people said anything about it, it would only be because they
+were jealous. And, too, there was a barrel there for rainwater; and
+Mrs. Karels had said it leaked, but it was not true; for everyone
+must know what he's doing; but when you do anything, everybody
+is talking about it. If one paid any attention to it, one would
+never get anything done--and it would be such a recreation for the
+children. Juffrouw Karels ought to attend to her own business--and
+when Gustave's birthday came, he might invite some "young gentlemen."
+
+Gustave's birthday came. "Young gentlemen" were to be invited,
+and--Walter was among that select number.
+
+It would lead me too far from the subject to enter upon an
+investigation of the motives that prompted Gustave and Franz to invite
+their former partner in the peppermint business. The list was made out
+and approved by their mother; and as Juffrouw Pieterse felt flattered,
+there was no objection from her side. Walter must promise, of course,
+to behave properly and be "respectable," not to soil his clothes, not
+to wrestle and tear his clothes, and many other things of a similar
+nature. Juffrouw Pieterse added that it was a great favor on her part
+to let him go, for such visits made a lot of work for her.
+
+Yes, Walter was to make a visit! Eat, drink and enjoy himself under
+a strange roof. It was a great event in his life, and already he
+was becoming less jealous of the Jews, who went away so often, and
+finally never came back home at all.
+
+It was midday now--that glorious midday. With indescribable dignity,
+for a boy, Walter stepped through the gate-way. "A little to right--to
+the left, to the left again, then over a bridge, and then to the
+right straight ahead. You can't miss it," Gustave had said. The name
+of the garden was "City Rest," so all Walter had to do was to "ask,"
+and he would "find it."
+
+And so it was.
+
+Anyone making a call or visit for the first time always arrives too
+early. So it was with Walter, who reached City Rest before any of the
+other guests. But the boys received him cordially and presented him
+to their mother, who said that Walter had a pretty face, if it were
+only not so pale.
+
+The other playmates came then, and running and throwing began, in
+the customary boyish style. This was interrupted with waffles and
+lemonade, which they "must drink quite slowly," because they were
+"wet with perspiration."
+
+When the proud mother of the Hallemans was speaking of berries and
+the grossly slandered rainwater barrel, she might have mentioned
+the advantages of the leafy bower, where Betty was now sitting with
+a gentleman.
+
+"Who is that?" asked Walter of little Emma, who was playing with
+the boys.
+
+"That? That's Betty's sweetheart."
+
+From that touching story of slender Cecilia we know that Walter already
+had his first love affair behind him; but still Emma's statement was
+to him something new. Up to that time he had thought that a sweetheart
+was a girl to whom one gives slatepencils and bonbons. But she seemed
+to be above such things. Walter saw immediately that he had not taken
+the right course with Cecilia; and all at once a desire came over
+him to know how a grown man treats a girl who is through school.
+
+"Her sweetheart?"
+
+"Oh yes--engagÈ!"
+
+That word was too modern for Walter. If the reader is sharp he can
+calculate in what year that girl married the barber's apprentice. All
+that is necessary is to determine when that stupid engagÈ came into
+use in this sense in "III. 7, a."
+
+"What did you say?" asked Walter.
+
+"EngagÈ--they go together."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"Oh, they're going to get married. Don't you know?"
+
+Walter was ashamed not to know such a simple thing; and, as is often
+the case, he was ashamed of being ashamed.
+
+"Certainly, of course I know. I hadn't understood right
+well. Emma--will you marry me?"
+
+For the moment Emma was unable to accommodate him, as she was engagÈ
+with her mother; but as soon as she was free she would consider
+the matter, and Walter would probably be favored. She looked at him
+sweetly--and then the game called her to another part of the yard.
+
+Love is the instinct for unity--and the instinct for multiplicity. As
+everywhere, nature is simple here in principle, but manifold in
+application. The love of a thief means: Come, we will go steal
+together. The servant of the Word unites with his loved one in prayer
+and psalm, etc., every animal after his kind.
+
+Or is this instinct to share, to be together, to be united at the
+same the instinct for the good?
+
+In Walter's case it was, even though he himself did not know it. Had
+he not, in the name of Cecilia, liberated a bird that fluttered about
+its narrow cage in distress? Of course Cecilia had laughed and asked
+Walter if he was crazy. She did not know that there was any connection
+between his sympathy for the poor little bird and the beating of his
+heart when he scratched her name on the frozen window-pane in the
+back room. Perhaps she would have understood if she had loved Walter;
+but that was impossible, because he still wore his jacket stuffed in
+his trousers.
+
+At all events, it was not possible for him to think of anything bad
+when he called "Omicron." He had now forgotten Cecilia, and would
+have been greatly surprised if she had appeared in answer to his
+call. Little Emma would have come nearer meeting his requirements.
+
+Walter felt that he must know just how the young man was proceeding
+with Betty in the bower. He soon found an excuse to separate himself
+from his companions; and then he heard all sorts of things that did
+not make him much wiser.
+
+"Yes, I said so too. In May----"
+
+"Certainly, on account of the top story----"
+
+"It's annoying! And what does your mother say?"
+
+"Hm--she says we must wait another year, that it isn't respectable
+to get married in such a hurry--it's just as if----"
+
+"Four years----"
+
+"Yes, four years. Louw and Anna have been engaged for seven."
+
+Walter was proud that he knew exactly what it all meant. To rent
+an upper story together, preferably in May!--that was the way he
+understood it.
+
+"And do you get that press for the linen?"
+
+"No, mother wants to keep it. But if we will only wait a year she
+will give us another one--a small one."
+
+"The big one would have been nicer."
+
+"I think so too, but she says young people don't need a big press. But
+when my sister was married she got a big one."
+
+"Tell them you want a big one too."
+
+"It's no use."
+
+"Try it. I won't marry without that big one."
+
+"I will make them----"
+
+This is a fair sample of what Walter overheard. He was dissatisfied
+and slipped away and hid himself, lost in thought. He didn't even know
+himself what was the matter with him; but when Emma came and called
+him he looked as if he had been thinking of anything else but presses
+and vacant flats, for in a tone at once joyous and fearful he cried:
+
+"Could it be she--my little sister?"
+
+It was evening now, and the children were to continue their games
+indoors. As the little party was tired, one of the grown-ups was
+going to tell a story.
+
+Just what "grown-up" had been requisitioned to narrate the story of
+Paradise and Peri, I don't know. Anyway the story hardly harmonized
+with Betty's engagement and that love-obstructing clothes-press. But
+just as Fortune is said to smile on everyone once in a lifetime, so,
+in the midst of the flatness and insipidity of everyday life, it seems
+that something always happens which gives that one who lays hold of it
+opportunity to lift himself above the ordinary and commonplace. To the
+drowning man a voice calls: "Stretch out thy arms, thou canst swim."
+
+"After Peri had begged long, but in vain, at the gates of paradise to
+be admitted to the land of the blessed, she brought at last, as the
+most beautiful thing in the world, the sigh of a repentant sinner;
+and she found favor with the keeper of the gate on account of the
+sacredness of the gift she had brought----"
+
+"Let's play forfeits now!" cried Gustave.
+
+"Forfeits! Forfeits!" everybody called out after him.
+
+And they played forfeits. Pawns were redeemed; and of course there
+was some kissing done. Riddles were given that nobody could guess;
+and who ever knew must not tell--a usual condition in this game.
+
+"Heavy, heavy hangs over your head; what shall the owner do to
+possess it?"
+
+"Stand on one leg for five minutes."
+
+"Let him jump over a straw--or recite a poem!"
+
+"No, a fable--la cigale, or something like that."
+
+"Yes, yes!"
+
+It was Walter's pawn.
+
+"I don't know any fable," he said, embarrassed; "and I don't know
+French either."
+
+"I will help you," cried Emma. "Le pere, du pere----"
+
+"That's no fable! Go ahead, Walter!"
+
+For some of the party it was a joy that Walter knew no Fable and no
+French. If it were only known how often one can do a kindness by being
+stupid, perhaps many, out of love for humanity, would affect stupidity.
+
+But Walter did not think of the pleasure of the others--which he
+could not have understood. He wept, and was angry at Master Pennewip,
+who had taught him no French and no fable.
+
+"Forward, Walter, forward!" insisted the holder of the pawn.
+
+"It needn't be French. Just tell a fable."
+
+"But I don't know what a fable is."
+
+"Oh, it's a story with animals."
+
+"Yes, or with trees! Le chÍne un jour dit au roseau--don't you see,
+you can have one without animals."
+
+"Yes, yes, a fable is just a story--nothing else. You can have in it
+anything you want to."
+
+"But it must rhyme!"
+
+Walter was thinking about reciting his robber song, but fortunately
+he reconsidered the matter. That would have been scandalous in the
+home of the Hallemans, who were so particularly respectable.
+
+"No," cried another, who was again wiser than all the rest, "it needn't
+rhyme. The cow gives milk--Jack saw the plums hanging--Prince William
+the First was a great thinker. Don't you see, Walter, it's as easy
+as rolling off of a log. Go ahead and tell something, or else you
+won't get your pawn."
+
+Walter began.
+
+"A little boy died once who was not allowed to go to heaven----"
+
+"Oho! That's the story of Peri. Tell something else."
+
+"I was going to change it," said Walter, embarrassed. "And so the
+little boy couldn't enter the heavenly gates, because he didn't know
+French, and because he had sometimes been bad, and because he hadn't
+learned his lessons, and also because he--because he"----I believe
+Walter had something on the end of his tongue about his mother's
+box of savings, but he swallowed it, that he might not offend the
+Hallemans by any allusion to the peppermint business--"because he
+once laughed during prayers. For it is certain, boys, that if you
+laugh during prayers you'll never get to heaven."
+
+"So--o-oo?" asked several, conscious of their guilt.
+
+"Yes, they can't go to heaven. Now the boy had had a sister, who died
+one year before him. He had loved her a lot, and when he died he began
+to hunt for his sister right away. 'Who is your sister?' he was asked."
+
+"Who asked him that?"
+
+"Be still! Don't interrupt him. Let Walter tell his story!"
+
+"I don't know who asked that. The boy said that his little sister
+had on a blue dress and had dimples in her cheeks, and----"
+
+"Just like Emma!"
+
+"Yes, exactly like Emma. They told him that there was a little girl
+in heaven that looked just like that. She had come the year before,
+and had asked them to let her brother in, who would certainly inquire
+after her. But the boy could not go in. I have already said why."
+
+"Had the little girl always learned her lessons?"
+
+"Of course! Don't you see she had? Let Walter go on with his story!"
+
+"It was sad that he could not get to see his sister any more. He felt
+that it hadn't really been worth the trouble to die. 'Oh, just let
+me in!' he begged the gentleman at the door----"
+
+"At the gate!" corrected several simultaneously, who, though untouched
+by the sublimity of Walter's conception of death, were offended by the
+commonplaceness of the word door. But such things happen frequently.
+
+"All right!" said Walter. He was ashamed that he had offended against
+propriety. "The gentleman at the gate said, 'No!' and then the poor
+boy returned to the earth."
+
+"That won't do," cried the philosophical contingency, "whoever is
+dead remains dead."
+
+"Don't interrupt him. Of course it's only a story!"
+
+Walter continued: "He returned to the earth and learned French. Then
+he appeared at the gate again and said, 'Oui, Monsieur!' but it did
+no good; he was not admitted."
+
+"I should think not; he ought to have said: 'j'aime, tu aimes.'"
+
+"I don't know anything about that," Walter replied.
+
+"Then he went to the earth again and learned his lessons till he
+could say them backwards. He did this for the keeper of the gate;
+but all this did no good; he was not allowed to go in."
+
+"Of course not," cried one of the wise ones, "to get to heaven you
+must be confirmed. Had he been confirmed?"
+
+"No. That's the reason it was so difficult. Then he tried something
+else. He said that he was engaged to his sister."
+
+"Just like Betty," cried Emma.
+
+"Yes, like Betty--and that he loved her and wanted to marry her. But
+it was all of no use; they wouldn't let him into heaven.
+
+"Finally he didn't dare go to the gate any more, for fear the keeper
+would get angry at him."
+
+"And then? What happened?"
+
+"I don't know," Walter stuttered. "I don't know what he ought to do
+to get to heaven."
+
+Walter knew the rest of the story very well, but he couldn't put it
+into words. This was shown in a peculiar manner an hour later.
+
+On the way home the party was almost run over by a wagon just as
+they were crossing a bridge. In the commotion Emma slipped under the
+railing and fell into the stream. Somebody screamed, and Walter sprang
+after her.
+
+If he had died at that moment the keeper of the gate would hardly
+have turned him away because he didn't know French and had not been
+confirmed.
+
+When he was brought home, wet and dirty, Juffrouw Pieterse said that
+one ought not to tempt the Master, and that's what one did when one
+jumped into the water without being able to swim.
+
+But I find that the man who can't swim is the very one to expect
+something of the Master; for the man who can swim has some prospect
+of helping himself.
+
+And Juffrouw Pieterse complained that there was "always something
+the matter with that boy." There was something the matter with him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse must have inherited something, for all at once the
+Pieterses moved to a more respectable neighborhood, and the daughters
+no longer knew any of the girls that they used to sew with. Such things
+do happen in cases of inheritance, when one moves to a more select
+quarter. Besides, there were other signs. They exerted themselves in
+trying to get Leentje to speak "better Dutch." Stoffel was zealous
+in teaching her, but Juffrouw Pieterse spoiled everything by her
+bad example.
+
+Walter was now wearing a new jacket, with a small collar, such as
+cabmen wore later. For him a jacket to stuff in the trousers was a
+thing of the past. It "looked so babyish," the young ladies said,
+and was "out of the question now when the boy can write poetry."
+
+That Walter could write poetry was boasted of to everybody that
+would listen. Under the circumstances they really had no right to
+reap any fame from Walter's robber song; but this only showed what an
+important rÙle vanity plays in the world. Of course he himself never
+heard anything of this; it was mentioned only when he was not present.
+
+The image of Cecilia had disappeared from Walter's heart; and little
+Emma was forgotten. Omicron must show her face in the stars from time
+to time to remind the child of his love. And even when he looked at
+the evening sky and his soul was stirred by an inexpressible longing
+after the good, it was not so much that he was thinking of Omicron
+as that he was moved by vague sweet memories. In the twelve years of
+his life there was a mythical prehistoric period which was difficult
+to separate from the historical period.
+
+He didn't know that he could write verses. He accepted it as a matter
+of course that his robber song was very poor, and looked upon Klaasje
+van der Gracht with awe. It was from Juffrouw Laps he learned that
+he could write poetry; and it was an illumination for him.
+
+Juffrouw Laps had an uncle whose birthday was coming the next week. She
+had paid the Pieterses a swell visit to ask if Walter wouldn't write
+her a poem for the occasion. She would see that he got some bonbons.
+
+"But Juffrouw Pieterse, you must tell him that it must be religious
+and that my uncle is a widower. He must bring that in. I should like
+for it to be in the melody of the 103d psalm, for my uncle has that
+psalm in his lyre."
+
+The reader will note that she did not mean the lyre of Apollo. What
+she spoke of was a thing that turned, and made a screechy noise.
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse was going to speak with Walter about it when he came
+from school, but first she had to consider the matter with Stoffel,
+to decide whether it should be a request or a command, so that Walter
+would have no reason to be "stuck-up." For that she could not endure
+in a child.
+
+"Walter, did you know your lesson?"
+
+"No, mother; I had to learn thirteen mountains in Asia, and I knew
+only nine."
+
+"Now, look here, that won't do. I'm paying tuition for nothing. Do you
+think money grows on my back? I don't know what's to become of you."
+
+"I don't know, either."
+
+After all, though, Walter was flattered by the commission to write
+a poem. Stoffel's and Juffrouw Pieterse's efforts to conceal their
+real opinion of his poetical talents had been useless. It was a
+pleasant surprise for the boy to learn that he was looked up to. He
+had always heard that he was worse than worthless, and that he would
+never amount to anything. It interested him now to hear the assurance
+of his mother and Stoffel that the commission was only a punishment for
+not knowing the mountains in Asia. In a great rush Stoffel taught him
+the difference between "masculine" and "feminine" verses, explaining
+that these must alternate, that all must be of the same length, and
+that if at any time the boy was in doubt he would clear the matter up,
+etc., etc.
+
+Walter was delighted. He went to the back room, got a slate pencil
+and began to write. It could hardly be called a success. "A widower
+of God"--"O God, a widower!" That was as far as he got.
+
+He gnawed on the pencil till he had pulverized it and worn out his
+teeth, but it wouldn't go. He was continually being interrupted
+by Stoffel's masculine and feminine verses. He had been too proud,
+and now he was receiving his punishment. He began to believe that
+his mother was right when she said nothing would ever come of him.
+
+Nor could Leentje help him. So he determined to make another attempt
+to-morrow. Perhaps he could do better then. Leentje agreed with him.
+
+"All right," said Juffrouw Pieterse. "But don't disgrace us
+all. Remember, I told Juffrouw Laps you could do it; and the man's
+birthday comes Thursday week. So you haven't any too much time."
+
+Walter went to Ash Gate, found his bridge and began to weep bitterly.
+
+"See what's the matter with that boy," he heard a woman saying to a
+girl fourteen or fifteen years old. "Perhaps he has lost something."
+
+"Have you lost anything?"
+
+Walter looked up, and was surprised; for he seemed to have seen that
+face before. It reminded him of Fancy.
+
+"Now, everything will be all right There you are; and I have been
+hunting for you."
+
+"For me?"
+
+"Yes, yes, but I just didn't know it. But I know it now. Tell me
+right quick how to write the poem!"
+
+The girl, who was helping her mother place the linen on the grass for
+bleaching, looked at Walter in astonishment. She hurried back to her
+mother to say that she didn't know what was the matter with the boy,
+but that there was certainly something wrong. "He looks as if he were
+scared half to death," she decided.
+
+Then she ran and fetched water from the house near by and made Walter
+drink. He saw that he had made a mistake; but there was something in
+the manner of the girl that drew him to her irresistibly, even though
+her name was only Femke. So the mother addressed her. And this name
+reminded him of Fancy, which was something.
+
+Femke pointed to an inverted basket and told him to tell the cause of
+his trouble; and Walter did it as well as he could, while the mother
+was busy with the linen.
+
+"Maybe I can help you," the mother said. "I have a nephew who is
+a widower."
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw--but the poem? And there must be something about God
+in it."
+
+"Certainly. It's a long story. His wife was a niece of my
+husband's--you see we are Catholics, and she acted according to
+her religion--put a stone on those cloths, Femke, or they'll blow
+away--yes, bleaching is a job. You have no idea what a bother
+it is--yes, she acted according to her religion; and that was
+right. People that don't do that are not much. But he--draw that
+shirt back a little, Femke. The sleeve is hanging in the ditch--but
+he didn't believe in it, and said it was all nonsense. But when she
+died, and he saw all that was done for her--it was Father Jansen who
+was there. Of course you know him--he always walks with a black cane,
+but he never lets it touch the ground----"
+
+The women looked at Walter questioningly. The poor boy sat on the
+basket, his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands. He had listened
+with open mouth, wondering how he was going to apply it all to his
+poem. Of Father Jansen and that cane which despised the ground he
+had never heard. This he had to confess.
+
+"Yes, it was Father Jansen who was there, and when my husband's nephew
+saw all that--don't spill any, Femke, or the mud will splatter so
+bad--yes, when he saw that a human being doesn't die like an animal,
+then he was more respectful, and after that he observed Easter like
+other people. And last year when he broke his leg--he's a dyer,
+you know--he drew thirteen stivers for nine weeks. And so I wanted
+to tell you that there's a widower in our family. And now you must
+get up, for I need the basket."
+
+Walter arose quickly, as if he feared he might seem to be trespassing;
+and the woman went away, after having warned Femke to watch the linen
+and call her if any bad boys should come along.
+
+"Are you better now?" Femke asked kindly.
+
+"Oh yes; but I don't see how I'm to use all that in my poem. You
+must remember that it has to rhyme, and the verses must be of the
+same length, and that they must be masculine and feminine; for my
+brother said so, and he's a school-teacher."
+
+Femke reflected, then all at once she cried, "Do you know Latin?" As
+if Latin would help Walter.
+
+"No," disconsolately.
+
+"Well, it really makes no difference. It's in Dutch, too. Just watch
+the linen a minute."
+
+Walter promised, and Femke ran to the house.
+
+Then some boys came along throwing rocks. Walter, conscious of his
+responsibility, called to them to desist--or words to that effect. This
+only made them worse. They came closer, and, to worry Walter, began to
+walk over the linen. For him it was as if they were mistreating Femke,
+and he charged on the miscreants. But it was two against one, and a
+weaker one at that; so he would have soon been defeated if his lady had
+not returned quickly. She rescued him and drove off his assailants; and
+when she saw that his lip was bleeding she gave him a kiss. The boy's
+heart trembled; all at once his soul was lifted to an unfamiliar level;
+and for the first time in weeks he felt again that princely nature
+that had given Leentje such a fright. His eyes shone, and the boy,
+who but a moment ago did not know how he was to write some rhymes,
+was filled with the feelings and emotions that make poets of men.
+
+"O Fancy, Fancy, to die for thee--to die with such a kiss on the lips!"
+
+It hurt him to think that the boys were gone. If there had been ten
+of them he would have had courage for the unequal fight.
+
+And Femke, who had never heard of poetical overflows, understood him
+immediately, for she was a pure, innocent girl. She felt Walter's
+chivalry, and knew that she was the lady to reward it.
+
+"You are a dear sweet boy," she said, taking his head between her
+hands and kissing him again, and again--as if she had done something
+of this kind before. But such was not the case.
+
+"And now you must read the verses in the little book. Maybe it will
+help you to write for your aunt----"
+
+"She isn't my aunt," Walter said, "but of course I will look through
+the book."
+
+He laid it on the railing of the bridge and began to read. Femke,
+who was taller than he, had put one arm around his neck, while with
+the other hand she was pointing out what he should read.
+
+"Don't you see?" she said, "the lines are the same length."
+
+"Yes, but they don't rhyme." And Walter read:
+
+
+    Mother most pure,
+    Mother undefiled,
+    Virgin most powerful,
+    Virgin most merciful,
+    Virgin most faithful,
+    Spiritual vessel,
+    Vessel of honor,
+    Vessel of singular devotion,
+    Mystical rose,
+    Tower of David,
+    Tower of Ivory,
+    Gate of Heaven----
+
+
+"But, Femke, how am I to use that for my poem? I don't understand
+any of it."
+
+Femke didn't understand much of it either. She had been reading the
+book every day for the past four or five years, and she had always been
+satisfied with her comprehension of it. But now she saw that she was
+as ignorant about it as Walter. She was ashamed and closed the book.
+
+"But don't you know what Faith is?" she asked, as if this defect
+might account for the general ignorance of both.
+
+"Not that way," Walter replied. "I learned it another way."
+
+"But you believe in Jesus, don't you?"
+
+"Oh, yes. That's God's son. But I didn't learn anything about vessels
+and towers. Do they belong to faith?"
+
+"Why, certainly! But you know the holy virgin, Maria!"
+
+"So? Maria? No, I don't."
+
+"And Purgatory?"
+
+"I don't know anything about it."
+
+"And confession?"
+
+"No."
+
+"What do you do then?"
+
+"How do you mean, Femke?"
+
+"I mean to be saved."
+
+"I don't know," Walter replied. "You mean, to get to heaven?"
+
+"Why, certainly. That's the point. And you can't do that without the
+holy virgin and such a book. Shall I teach you the creed, Walter? Then
+we'll be together in heaven."
+
+That pleased Walter, and Femke and Walter began:
+
+"God created the world----"
+
+"What did he do before that, Femke?"
+
+"I don't know. But the people were made wicked by a snake; then the
+Pope pronounced a curse upon the snake, for the Pope lives in Rome,
+you know. And then Jesus was crucified to make the people good
+again. That was a long time ago."
+
+"Yes, I know," Walter said, "Jesus changed the number of the year. At
+his birth he began at nought."
+
+Femke didn't know again. In this way each supplemented the knowledge
+of the other; and Walter was proud that he knew something about the
+creed, even if Femke did think it the wrong creed.
+
+"And so Jesus made the people good again, and if you will pray out
+of such a book you will be saved. Do you understand, Walter?"
+
+"Not quite. What is an ivory tower?"
+
+"Why, that's only a name for the virgin. It's as if you were to call
+the pastor father. Now you understand."
+
+Femke hunted for another illustration.
+
+"You have a mother; what do you call her?"
+
+"Why, I call her mother."
+
+"Correct. What do the other people call her?"
+
+"They call her Juffrouw Pieterse."
+
+"Just so. When we call the holy virgin 'ivory tower' it's just like
+calling your mother Juffrouw Pieterse. Ivory gate means that to get
+to heaven we must go through the holy virgin. That's the main thing."
+
+"But, Femke, what is a virgin?"
+
+Femke blushed.
+
+"That is anybody that has never had a child."
+
+"Me?" asked Walter in astonishment.
+
+"No, child, it must be a girl!"
+
+"Are you a virgin?"
+
+"Of course!"
+
+Femke spoke the unvarnished truth.
+
+"Of course--because I'm not married."
+
+"But Maria was married--and Jesus was her child."
+
+"Ah, that's where the holiness comes in," replied Femke. "And for that
+reason she is called the ivory gate. Do you understand now, Walter?"
+
+Walter did not understand; but he asked permission to take the book
+home with him, that he might study it. That, however, was not possible,
+as Femke needed the book every day. Walter consoled himself easily,
+for not for anything in the world would he have endangered Femke's
+salvation. Femke asked him to come again. She would be glad to tell
+him all she knew about the matter; and, if both should get tangled up,
+she would ask Father Jansen about it. And then Walter would soon be
+as wise as she was.
+
+Walter withdrew; i. e., after he had kissed Femke heartily. This
+meeting with her, the mysterious book, salvation, the fight with the
+boys--all these things would run through his mind whenever he tried
+to think of the poem. It seemed to him that there was some connection
+between them.
+
+When he got home he turned through Stoffel's books, hoping to find
+something about holy vessels, ivory towers, and immaculate virgins. But
+they were all school books, and gave information about everything
+else but salvation. Walter was crushed, but he was still searching.
+
+"Master Pennewip had a father and mother; and certainly old Pennewip,
+too, who slaughtered hogs; and the one before him, too--but who was the
+first Pennewip? And who slaughtered the hogs before old Pennewip? And
+before there were any hogs, what did butchers do? And----"
+
+I will know all of that some day, Walter thought. If he could have only
+quieted himself so well about his poem! If that were only written, he
+thought, then he would clear up the lost causes of everything. In the
+meanwhile he dreamed of Femke, of her blue eyes, her friendliness,
+her soft lips--and of her voice, when she said, "You are a dear,
+sweet boy."
+
+Could it be that she is Omicron? he thought.
+
+And thus the child dreamed, dreamed; and, just as in the development
+of humanity, in his life was working a three-fold impulse, towards
+love, knowledge, and conflict.
+
+"But Walter, don't you read any books at home about the creed?"
+
+Thus Femke questioned her little friend the next day, as he sat on
+her basket again.
+
+"Yes, but they're not pretty."
+
+"Don't you know anything by heart?"
+
+Walter repeated a stanza of a reformed church hymn. This found no
+favor with Femke; though she liked his reciting.
+
+"Don't you read anything else?"
+
+Walter reflected: he flew through Stoffel's library--works of the
+Poetical Society, Geology by Ippel, On Orthography, Regulations
+for the Fire-Watch, Story of Joseph by Hulshoff, Brave Henry, Jacob
+Among His Children, Sermons by Hellendoorn, A Catechism by the same,
+Hoorn's Song-book.
+
+He felt that all of this would not prove very imposing for
+Femke. Finally:
+
+"I do know something, but it isn't about faith and the creed. It's
+about Glorioso."
+
+Femke promised to listen, and he began to relate the story. At first
+he spoke mechanically, using all the "and then's": but soon he put
+himself into the soul of the hero and told the story better than he
+had read it in the greasy book. At every deed of Glorioso he would
+spring from the basket and act the part of that hero in a way that
+made Femke's blood run cold. Still, how magnificent she found it! And
+when at last he was through, a spark from his peculiar but sincere
+enthusiasm had fallen into her heart, which like his beat with delight
+over the beauty of what she had heard. Her cheeks glowed--really,
+if a Treckschent had started to Italy at that moment I believe she
+would have gone along, in order to take part in so much danger and
+adventure--and love. The nicest thing about the story was that it
+showed how firm such a robber is in the faith.
+
+"Don't you know another story?"
+
+"Yes," said Walter. "One more. It's in a little book--a calendar,
+I believe."
+
+And he related the story of Telasco and Kusco and the beautiful
+Aztalpa.
+
+Telasco and Kusco, sons of the King of the Sun-worshipers, were
+twins; and so both were equally near the throne. They loved each other
+devotedly; so which would give way for the other? Which of the two was
+to become Inca? Funeral pyres were built, one for each, and prayers
+were offered to the sun that one of the piles might be ignited. But the
+sun did not light either. He ordered that Aztalpa, the sister, should
+choose one. That one to whom she offered her hand should inherit the
+throne and the empire. But the princess could not decide, for she
+loved them both dearly and both equally. It was then decided that
+both should go out hunting on a certain morning, and that the one who
+killed the first doe should become king. Telasco had red arrows, Kusco
+blue. The morning came. The brothers were lying in a thicket as the
+deer approached. Both fired, and both missed. Then they swore mutually
+not to miss intentionally the next time. They kept the oath, and two
+deer fell; but Telasco had shot one of Kusco's arrows, and Kusco one
+of Telasco's. Telasco then proposed that Aztalpa should be killed,
+to avoid any discord in the empire; and in the other world both would
+enjoy the same place in her affections. All agreed to this; but when
+the fatal day came, Aztalpa fell on her knees before Telasco and begged
+that she might receive her death at the hand of Kusco. Telasco cried:
+"Aztalpa, you have chosen!" All bowed down before Kusco; and when
+they looked for Telasco he had disappeared. He was never seen again.
+
+Often Femke interrupted with questions, for there was much that was
+strange and wonderful to her; but she was charmed with the story and
+shared all of Walter's enthusiasm.
+
+"I tell you, though, Walter, if that girl had known what Telasco was
+up to she wouldn't have done it. But the story is beautiful. I wonder
+if such things really happen."
+
+"That was far from here, Femke, and a long time ago. That's just the
+way it was in the book. But now I must go home, for I haven't a stiver
+to pay the gate-keeper if I come in after eight. Oh, Femke--if I were
+only through with that poetry business."
+
+"It will turn out all right. Just think of Telasco. He had a difficult
+task, too."
+
+"No! I will think of the girl. Good-evening, Femke----"
+
+Walter received the hearty kiss that his story had earned him, and
+dreaming of Aztalpa, who was guarding the linen, he passed through
+the Ash Gate and turned towards home. The moon shone so brightly that
+he was annoyed not to have been able to remain with Femke. How much
+better, he thought, could he have told his story by moonlight! But
+he didn't have the price--a stiver.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+The moon paused on the sky, as if she were weary of her lonely
+lot. Was she grieved because ungrateful humanity had fallen asleep
+and was ignoring her?--or because of the light borrowed from her
+for thousands of years, and none returned? She poured forth her
+sorrow in heart-breaking noiseless elegies till the night-wind was
+moved to pity. Whish! he went through the trees; and the leaves
+danced. Crash! he went over the roof; and the tiles flew away, and
+chimneys bowed meekly; and over the walls and ditches the sawmills
+danced with the logs they were to saw. There a girl sat sleeping. Could
+it be Femke? The linen danced about her to the music of the wind, the
+shirts making graceful bows and extending their sleeves. Nightcaps,
+dickeys and drawers danced the minuet; stockings, skirts, collars,
+handkerchiefs waltzed thicker and thicker around the sleeping girl. Her
+curls began to flutter--a smile, a sigh, and she sprang to her feet. A
+whirlwind caught her up and----
+
+"O, heavens, Femke, Femke!" and Walter grasped at the apparition that
+was being borne away towards the moon in a cloud of stockings, socks,
+drawers, shirts and collars.
+
+"Mother! Walter's pinching me," cried Laurens, the printer's
+apprentice; and Juffrouw Pieterse groaned, that those boys couldn't
+even keep quiet at night.
+
+The "House of Pieterse" gathered at Walter's bed. There was the noble
+mother of the family enveloped in a venerable jacket that fell in broad
+folds over a black woolen skirt. There was Trudie, with her stupid blue
+eyes; and Myntje and Pietje--but what am I talking about? In the new
+home Trudie had become Gertrude, like a morganatic princess in Hessia;
+and Myntje was now Mina, but preferred to be called Mine, as that
+sounded more Frenchy. But her stupid face remained unchanged. Pietje
+was now Pietro. Stoffel had said that was a very swell name.
+
+Stoffel, too, had now appeared on the scene, to the great astonishment
+of his mother, who expected so much of him. This fine sense of
+propriety had been developed in the new home.
+
+"What's the matter with you, boy?" cried everybody at once.
+
+"Oh, mother, Femke--Femke!"
+
+"The boy is foolish." That was the unanimous verdict of the family.
+
+And they were not altogether wrong. Walter was delirious.
+
+"They are carrying her away--around and around--Daughter of the Sun,
+decide--here is Telasco--thou shalt die, Aztalpa--Femke, stay,
+stay, I will watch the clothes--I will shoot the doe--a widower
+of God--together through the ivory gate--there she is again--stay,
+Omicron!"
+
+"Ought we to call in a preacher?" asked Juffrouw Pieterse
+hesitatingly. She didn't know whether praying was needed or a
+whipping--or both.
+
+And now, perhaps for the first time in his life, Stoffel expressed a
+sensible thought: "Mother, we ought to have a doctor. Walter is sick."
+
+Walter had nervous fever. It was fortunate for him that a doctor was
+called in, and still more fortunate that it was a man who understood
+Walter's mental troubles. He exerted a most wholesome influence on
+the boy; though this came later, as at first he could only treat
+the disease.
+
+On Juffrouw Pieterse, too, he had a good influence. To her great
+astonishment, he explained to her that children ought not to be
+packed together in a bed as if they were superfluous pieces of
+furniture being thrown aside; that air, light, play, enjoyment,
+exercise are all necessary for the development of body and soul;
+that whipping does no good, and that she had better dispense with her
+"divine worship." He told her of other things she had never heard of;
+and she listened willingly, for the doctor----
+
+"Ah, dear Juffrouw Laps, you must manage to be here when he comes. He
+writes the prescriptions with a gold pen; and his coachman wears a
+brown bear-skin cape."
+
+That gold pen and the bear-skin cape! Ah, if everyone who preaches
+truth could only dress up his coachman so swell! But alas, alas--I
+know a great many people who love the truth, and they have no coachman
+at all--not to mention the bear-skin.
+
+And gold pens often get into the wrong hands.
+
+"I just wanted Juffrouw Zipperman to come sometime when the doctor's
+here. Run and tell her, Gertrude, that I said Walter was sick,
+and say that we have lunch about twelve. He came about that time
+yesterday. And Leentje, you go to the grocer's--we need salt--have
+something to say about it--it's not just to be gossiping, you know--I
+despise gossip--but I would like to know if the people have noticed
+it. And you, Pietro, remember that you are to give me a clean cap
+when he comes--for the doctor is such an elegant gentleman, and such
+a doctor! And all that he said--I drank it all in. Mina, you mustn't
+stare at him again like that; it's not proper. But I'm curious to
+know if the people at the grocer's have seen him!"
+
+I shouldn't like to be severe on her; but it seems to me that Juffrouw
+Pieterse was gradually beginning to take pleasure in Walter's illness.
+
+There is something swell in having such a carriage standing before
+one's door.
+
+Juffrouw Laps had come: "But dear Juffrouw Pieterse, what am I to do
+about my uncle? You are invited; and I have told him that there will
+be a poem."
+
+"Very bad, Juffrouw Laps. You can see though that that poor worm
+can't write the poem. What about Stoffel? Why not ask him to write it?"
+
+"It's all right with me. Just so it's a poem; otherwise I'm disgraced."
+
+Stoffel was requested to take Walter's place, but he raised objections
+at once.
+
+"You don't know what that would mean, mother. I would lose the respect
+of the boys. For anyone working with youth, respect is the main thing;
+and such a poem----"
+
+"But the boys at school need not know it."
+
+"But the man would tell somebody and then--you don't understand it. At
+the Diaconate school there was a fellow who wrote verses; and what
+has become of him? He went to India, mother, and he still owes me for
+half a bottle of ink. That's the way it goes, mother. For me to write
+such a poem? No, no, mother--for a boy like Walter it's all right;
+but when one is already a teacher!"
+
+"And Master Pennewip?" cried Juffrouw Laps.
+
+"The very man!" cried Stoffel, as if this supported his former
+argument. "A happy thought! Master Pennewip will do it."
+
+"I've read a poem by him, Stoffel."
+
+"Yes, yes. And you've read a poem by him. That's because--but how
+shall I explain that to you, Juffrouw Laps? You know that in teaching
+there are all kinds of things. Take Geography, for example. I will just
+mention one fact: Madrid is on the Manganares. Understand, mother?"
+
+"Yes, yes, Stoffel. That's just as if you were to say----"
+
+"Amsterdam on the Y. Exactly so. And then there are many, many more
+things, Juffrouw Laps. You have no idea how much there is of it. A
+grocer mixes sugar with something else. He must calculate exactly
+what he must get for a pound in order not to lose money. Think of
+it! And then you have partnership, and breakage, and the verbs--but
+I must go before those rascals break everything."
+
+Stoffel returned to school earlier than usual, without having
+diminished Juffrouw Laps's difficulties very much. That poor woman
+could not comprehend how geography and Madrid and the grocer and
+partnerships made it impossible for Stoffel to write verses. Juffrouw
+Pieterse smoothed the matter over as well as she could and sent
+Juffrouw Laps to Master Pennewip.
+
+That gentleman was alarmed when he saw the angry "sucking animal,"
+but he quieted down as soon as he heard the object of her visit.
+
+"To what class does your uncle belong, Juffrouw?"
+
+"Why, to the class--you mean the mussel-shells and eggs?"
+
+"No, no, Juffrouw, I mean on which rung of the ladder is he--how high
+up. I repeat it, on what rung--it's a figure, Juffrouw--on what rung
+of the social ladder?"
+
+"In the grain business? Is that what you mean?"
+
+"That is not sufficient, Juffrouw Laps. One may be in the grain
+business as a pastry cook, a baker, a retailer, a wholesaler, or as a
+broker; and all these vocations have their peculiar sub-divisions. Take
+Joseph in Egypt, for example. This man of God, whom some place in
+the class of patriarchs, while others claim--but let that be as it
+may. It is certain that Joseph bought corn and was on the topmost
+rung of the ladder, for we read in Genesis, chapter 41----"
+
+"Yes, indeed, he rode in Pharaoh's carriage, and he wore a white silk
+coat. My uncle is an agent, and my father was the same."
+
+"So-o-oo?  Agent!  That's something Moses doesn't mention, and I
+don't know in what class----" He spoke slowly, puzzling over his words.
+
+"Besides, my uncle is a widower."
+
+"Ah, there we have the difference! We read that Joseph wooed Asnath,
+the daughter of Potiphar; but nowhere do we read that his spouse was
+already dead when he went into the corn business. Therefore, Juffrouw
+Laps, if it is your earnest desire to have a pious poem written on
+your uncle, I advise you to go to my pupil, Klaasje van der Gracht."
+
+He explained to her where that prodigy might be found.
+
+Again I must beg pardon if my criticism of Pennewip is too severe; but
+he gave me reasons enough to harbor ugly suspicions against him. I am
+convinced that he would have written that poem for Juffrouw Laps if
+her uncle had received a white silk coat from the king, or had ever
+driven through The Hague in a royal carriage. But to sing an agent in
+verse! He would leave that to the genius of "the flying tea-kettle"
+in the Peperstraat. That was not nice of Pennewip. Was that uncle
+to blame because his brothers never threw him into a well? or sold
+him into Egypt? Or because he couldn't interpret dreams? Or because
+cleverness is not rewarded to-day with rings, white coats, carriages
+and high official position?
+
+Juffrouw Laps footed it over to the Peperstraat, where she made
+the acquaintance of the elder van der Gracht. The old gentleman
+felt flattered.
+
+He was most gracious, and assured the Juffrouw that the poem should
+be written that very evening. Klaasje could bring it over the next
+morning and repeat it to Juffrouw Laps, and if it were found worthy
+as an expression of her feelings toward her uncle, then Klaasje was
+to be invited to be present on that evening. The father assured her
+that Klaasje would wear a white stand-up collar.
+
+"Just like Joseph," said the Juffrouw. "Everything is in the Bible."
+
+When she got home she read the forty-first chapter of Genesis,
+trying to find the relation of Klaasje's apotheosis to Joseph's
+exaltation. That night she dreamed she had a mantle in her hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+It was the afternoon of the day on which Juffrouw Laps sought out
+Klaasje van der Gracht, and Walter was lying in bed, still weak but
+no longer delirious. The doctor had ordered rest and quiet. The child
+counted the flowers in the curtain, and, in his imagination tried
+to arrange them in some other order. He allowed them to jump over
+one another, or flow into one another. He saw in them faces, forms,
+armies, clouds--and all were alive and moving. It was tiresome, but
+he couldn't do anything else. If he turned his face toward the wall
+it was still worse. The hieroglyphic scratches on the wall told him
+all sorts of things that he didn't need to know and overwhelmed him
+with unnecessary impressions. He closed his eyes; but still he found
+no rest. It seemed to him as if he were being swept away to take part
+in that entertainment that the night-wind gave the moon. Everything
+was turning round and round, taking him along. He seized his head in
+both hands, as if he would stop his imagination by main strength; but
+it was useless. The curtains, the cords, the wall, the flowers, the
+dance, the whirlwind that tore Femke away--his efforts to hold her----
+
+The boy burst into tears. He knew that it was all imagination; he
+knew that he was sick; he knew that chimneys don't dance, and that
+girls are not blown to the moon; and yet----
+
+Weeping he called Femke's name softly, not loud enough to be heard
+by the others, but loud enough to relieve his own depression.
+
+"What's that?" he cried suddenly. "Does she answer? Is that
+imagination, too?"
+
+Actually, Walter heard his name called, and it was Femke's voice!
+
+"I must know whether I'm dreaming, or not," he said, and straightened
+himself up in bed. "That is a red flower, that is a black one, I am
+Walter, Laurens is a printer's apprentice--everything is all right;
+and I'm not dreaming."
+
+He leaned out of bed and listened again, his mouth and eyes as wide
+open as he could get them, as if the senses of taste and sight were
+going to reinforce that of hearing.
+
+"O, God! Femke's voice! Yes, yes, it is Femke!" He jumped out of bed,
+ran out the door, and half ran, half fell down the steps.
+
+To return to Femke for a little while. She had expected Walter at
+the bridge the next day after the story of the sun-worshipers. At
+first she thought that Walter was waiting till he could borrow from
+Stoffel the book with the picture showing Aztalpa embracing the two
+brothers. She wanted to see Walter with the picture; now she would have
+been satisfied with him without the picture. It couldn't be the boy's
+person, she thought--such a child!--but he did recite so well. Perhaps
+in the heart of the girl Walter and his recitals had already coalesced.
+
+"Put the clothes in the sun," cried her mother; and Femke translated
+that: Sun--Peru--Aztalpa--Kusco--Walter.
+
+"Run those fighters away; they'll throw dirt on the clothes."
+
+Femke dreamed: Courageously fighting against the enemies of the
+country--the noblest tribe of the Incas--Telasco--Walter.
+
+Everything seemed to be calling for Walter; but he did not come.
+
+The first day she was sad; the second, impatient; the third, restless.
+
+"Mother, I'm going to see what's become of the little boy who was
+going to write a poem."
+
+"Do, my child!" said the mother. "Do you think you will find him?"
+
+Femke nodded; but her nod was not convincing. She did not know where
+Walter lived and was afraid to say so. It took courage to start out to
+trace the child when she didn't know where he lived; and this courage
+she wished to conceal. And why? Just timidity incident to the tender
+feelings. Sometimes we conceal the good and boast of the bad.
+
+The girl dressed herself as prettily as she could and put all her
+money in her pocket. It was only a few stivers. She hurried through
+Ash Gate and inquired where the shop was that lent books. Thus she
+came directly to the Hartenstraat. She simply retraced the steps of
+our hero, when he made that first sally with Glorioso.
+
+Less timid than Walter--Femke was older, and had had more experience
+with men--she asked the gruff fellow in a business-like way for
+"the book about the countess with the long train or her dress."
+
+"What? What's the title?"
+
+"I don't know," Femke said. "It's about a robber--and the Pope's
+mentioned in it, too. I am hunting for the boy who read the book. I
+wanted to ask where he lives--I will pay you for your trouble."
+
+"Do you think I'm a fool? Am I here to hunt for boys?"
+
+"But, M'neer, I will pay you," the girl said, and laid the money on
+the counter.
+
+"Oh, get on! What do I know about your boy?"
+
+Femke got angry now.
+
+"I haven't done anything, and you can't run me off like that. No,
+you can't. If you don't want to tell me, you needn't to. You are an
+unaccommodating fellow!"
+
+She was going to leave, when it occurred to her to ask, "And won't
+you lend me a book, either?"
+
+"Yes, you can get a book. What do you want?"
+
+"That book about the robber and Amalia," said Femke. She felt now that
+she was a "customer," and oh, how proud she had become all at once!
+
+"I don't know anything about such a book. Do you mean Rinaldo
+Rinaldini?"
+
+"No. Is there more than one robber book? Just call over the names of
+them for me."
+
+This was said with an air of importance that was not without its effect
+on the shopman. He pulled down the catalogue, and soon he came to
+"Glorioso."
+
+"That's it, that's it!" cried Femke, delighted.
+
+"But you must deposit a forfeit," the man said, as he mounted the
+ladder to get that precious book.
+
+"No, no, I don't want the book at all. I only want to know where the
+boy lives who read it. I will pay you gladly," and she pointed to
+her money.
+
+"That isn't necessary," he said. "I don't mind accommodating you when
+you ask me politely."
+
+He looked in the register and found the name Femke had mentioned, with
+the address. He showed it to her, and was even going to explain to her
+the best way to get there; but Femke was already out the door. The
+fellow had difficulty in overtaking her to return the money she had
+forgotten on the counter.
+
+When she reached the address given, Femke learned that the Pieterses
+had moved to a "sweller neighborhood." It was quite a distance away;
+but Femke was not deterred by that.
+
+Once at the Pieterses', she was received by the young ladies with a
+rough, "What do you want?"
+
+"Oh, Juffrouw, I wanted to ask about Walter."
+
+"Who are you?"
+
+"I am Femke, Juffrouw, and my mother is a wash-woman. I would like
+to know if Walter is all right."
+
+"What have you got to do with Walter?" asked Juffrouw Pieterse,
+who had heard the commotion and came down.
+
+"Ah, Juffrouw, don't be angry--I wanted to know; and my mother knows
+that I've come to ask. Walter told me about Telasco, and the girl
+that was to die--oh, Juffrouw, tell me if he's sick! I cannot sleep
+till I know."
+
+"That's none of your business. Go, I tell you! I don't want strange
+people standing around the door."
+
+"For mercy's sake, Juffrouw!" cried the girl, wringing her hands.
+
+"The girl's crazy. Put her out, Trudie, and slam the door!"
+
+Trudie began to execute the order. Myntje and Pietje got ready to
+help her; but the child clung to the balustrade and held her ground.
+
+"Throw her out! The impudent thing!"
+
+"Oh, Juffrouw, I'm not impudent. I will go. Just tell me whether
+Walter is sick. Tell me, and I will go right now. Just tell me if
+he's sick--if, if he's going--to die."
+
+The poor child began to weep. Anybody else but those Pieterse women
+would have been touched at the sight. They were too far up the ladder.
+
+Plainer people, or nobler people would have understood Femke. Feeling,
+sympathy, is like the money in a gambling-place. It doesn't come
+to everybody. There wenches and countesses sit side by side; merely
+respectable people, who sell shoes made in Paris, are not there.
+
+"I won't go!" cried Femke. "Oh, God! I won't go! I will know whether
+that child is sick!"
+
+A door was heard opening above; and Walter came in sight. He tumbled
+down the steps and fell unconscious at Femke's feet.
+
+"That boy!" groaned the old lady, while the girls stood as if
+transfixed. Femke picked Walter up and carried him upstairs. His
+bed was pointed out to her, and she placed him in it. No one had the
+courage to run her away when she took a chair by the bedside. If at
+this moment the rights of the Pieterses and Femke had been voted upon,
+all the votes would have gone to Femke.
+
+She wept, and stammered "Don't be angry, Juffrouw; but I couldn't
+sleep for thinking of him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+Walter's illness now took a favorable turn. As soon as he was
+strong enough to leave his bed, the whole family noticed that he
+had grown. All remarked about it and called each other's attention to
+it. No one was better convinced of the fact than Juffrouw Pieterse; for
+"that boy" had "outgrown all of his clothes," and it would not be easy
+"to fit him out respectably again." So much interesting notoriety and
+respectability had been reaped from Walter's illness that it was only
+natural that his convalescence should be turned to the best account.
+
+The child would sit and fill in the colors in pictures. The doctor
+had presented him the pictures and a box of colors. The latter,
+so Stoffel said, were the genuine English article.
+
+Oh, such pictures!
+
+Walter was interested especially by pictures from the opera and the
+tragedy. There were pictures from Macbeth, Othello, Lear, Hamlet,
+from "The Magic Flute," "The Barber of Seville," "Der Freisch¸tz,"
+and from still a few more--each one always more romantic than the
+last. In selecting suitable colors for his heroes and heroines, Walter
+had the advice of the entire family, including Leentje. Usually there
+was disagreement, but that only made the matter more important. In
+only two details were they agreed: faces and hands were to have
+flesh-color, and lips were to be painted red. It had always been
+that way; otherwise, why was it called flesh-color? On account of
+this arrangement Hamlet came off rather badly, receiving a much more
+animated countenance than was suited to his melancholy.
+
+"I wish I knew what the dolls mean," said Walter. He was talking
+about his pictures.
+
+"It's only necessary to ask Stoffel," his mother replied. "Wait till
+he comes from school."
+
+Walter asked him. Stoffel--there are more such people in the
+world--would never admit that he did not know a thing; and he always
+knew how to appear knowing.
+
+"What the dolls mean? Well, you see--those are, so to say, the pictures
+of various persons. There, for instance, the one with a crown on his
+head--that is a king."
+
+"I told you Stoffel could explain them," corroborated his mother.
+
+"Yes, but I should have liked to know what king, and what he did."
+
+"Well! There it is at the bottom. You can read it, can't you?"
+
+"Macbeth?"
+
+"Certainly. It's Macbeth, a famous king of ancient times."
+
+"And that one there with a sword in his hand?"
+
+"Also a king, or a general, or a hero, or something of the
+kind--somebody that wants to fight. Perhaps David, or Saul, or
+Alexander the Great. That's not to be taken so exactly."
+
+"And the lady with the flowers? She seems to be tearing them up."
+
+"That one? Show her to me: Ophelia. Yes, that's Ophelia. Don't
+you know?"
+
+"Yes. Why does she throw the leaves on the ground?"
+
+"Why? why? The questions you do ask!"
+
+Here the mother came to the rescue of her eldest son.
+
+"Yes, Walter, you mustn't ask more questions than anybody can answer."
+
+Walter did not ask any more questions, but he determined to get to
+the bottom of the matter at the first opportunity. His imagination
+roamed over immeasurable domains--such an insatiate conqueror was
+the little emperor Walter in his night-jacket!
+
+He associated the heroes of his pictures with the doctor, who had been
+so friendly to him, and with his immortal Glorioso. The Peruvian story,
+too, furnished a few subjects for his empire. He married Telasco to
+Juliet; and the priests of the sun got their rights again. Master
+Pennewip received a new wig, but of gold-colored threads, on the
+model of the straw crown of a certain King Lear. Persons that he
+could see from the window were numbered among his subjects. He had
+to do something; and this foreign material was preferable to that in
+his immediate surroundings. Even Lady Macbeth, who was washing her
+hands and not looking particularly pleasing, seemed to him to be of
+a higher order than his mother or Juffrouw Laps.
+
+In fact, for him those pictures were the greatest things in
+the world. He was carried away with the crowns, diadems, plumes,
+iron gratings over the faces, with the swords and the daggers with
+cross-hilts to swear on--with the trains and puff-sleeves and girdles
+with pendents of gold--and the pages. All this had nothing in common
+with his everyday surroundings. How is it possible, he thought, that
+anyone who has such beautiful pictures should sell them? The doctor
+must have inherited them!
+
+Even if he had known that Lady Macbeth was the personification of
+crime, it would still have seemed to him a profanation to bring her
+into contact with the plebeian commonness around him.
+
+All at once something in Ophelia's form reminded him of Femke. She
+too could stand that way, plucking the petals from the flowers and
+strewing them on the ground.
+
+He had dim recollections of what had happened, and occasionally he
+would ask indifferently about "that girl." He was afraid to speak
+her name before Gertrude, Mina, and Pietro. He was always answered in
+tones that showed him that there was no room for his romance there;
+but he promised himself to visit her as soon as he got up.
+
+"When you're better you must go to see the doctor and thank him
+for curing you--but thank God first; and then you can show him what
+you've painted."
+
+"Of course, mother! I will give her the Prince of Denmark--I mean him,
+the doctor."
+
+"But be careful not to soil it; and don't forget that the ghost of the
+old knight must be very pale. Stoffel said so--because it's a ghost,
+you see."
+
+"Yes, mother, I'll make it white."
+
+"Good. And you'll make the lady there yellow?" pointing with a
+knitting-needle to Ophelia.
+
+"No, no," cried Walter quickly, "she was blue!"
+
+"She was? Who was?"
+
+"I only mean that I have so much yellow already, and I wanted to make
+her--this one--Ophelia--I wanted to make her blue. That one washing
+her hands can stay yellow."
+
+"So far as I'm concerned," the mother said, "but don't soil it!"
+
+Stoffel, in the meantime, had got on the track of those pictures. He
+was slick and had an inquiring mind. One of his colleagues at school,
+who was in some way connected with the stage, told him that such
+costume-pictures were of great value to players. He also told him
+other things about these pictures and about the play in general.
+
+It was fortunate for Walter that Stoffel brought this knowledge
+home with him. Even to-day there are people who find something
+immoral in the words "Theatre" and "Player"; but at that time it was
+still worse. The satisfaction, however, of imparting knowledge and
+appearing wise put Stoffel in an attitude of mind on this occasion
+that ordinarily would have been irreconcilable with that narrowness
+which with him took the place of conscience.
+
+"You see, mother, there are comedies and comedies. Some are sad,
+some funny. Some are all nonsense, and there's nothing to be learned
+from them; but there are comedies so sad that the people wail when
+they see them--even respectable people!"
+
+"Is it possible!"
+
+"Yes, and then there are others where there's music and singing. They
+are nice, and moral too. They are called operas; and people who
+are entirely respectable go there. You see, mother, there's nothing
+bad about it; and we ought not to be so narrow. The old Greeks had
+comedies, and our professors still study them."
+
+"Is it possible!"
+
+"Walter's pictures are from real comedies; but I can't tell all the
+details now. I will only say there are good comedies."
+
+"You must tell Juffrouw Laps. She always says----"
+
+"And what does she know about it? She never saw a comedy in her life."
+
+That was the truth; but it was just as true of the Pieterse
+family--with the exception of Leentje.
+
+One afternoon Leentje had complained of a terrible headache and
+had left off sewing and gone out. Later it was learned that she had
+not spent the evening with her mother; and then there was a perfect
+storm. But Leentje would not say where she had been that night. "That
+night" was Juffrouw Pieterse's expression, though she knew that the
+girl was at home by eleven o'clock. Leentje betrayed nothing. She
+had promised the dressmaker next door not to say anything; for the
+dressmaker had to be very careful, because her husband was a hypocrite.
+
+In Leentje's work-box was found a mutilated program; and then one day
+she began to sing a song she had never sung before--"I'm full of honor,
+I'm full of honor; oh, yes, I'm a man of honor!"
+
+And then it was all out! She had been to the Elandstraat and had seen
+the famous Ivan Gras in a comedy!
+
+Leentje began to cry and was going to promise never to do so again,
+when, to her amazement, she was told that there was nothing wrong in
+it, and that even the greatest professors went to see comedies.
+
+And now she must tell them about it.
+
+It was "The Child of Love," by Kotzebue, that had greeted her
+astonished eyes.
+
+"There was music, Juffrouw, and they played beautifully; and then the
+curtain went up, and there was a great forest, and a woman wept under
+a tree. There was a Baron who made her son a prisoner, because he was
+a hunter--but he spoke so nice, and his mother, too. The Baron said
+he was master on his place, and that he would punish such thieves. He
+was in a great rage. And then the mother said--no, somebody else
+came and said--but then the curtain went down. The dressmaker bought
+waffles that were being passed around, and we drank chocolate. The
+dressmaker said that every day wasn't a feast day. A man sat behind us
+and explained everything and took our cups when they were empty. Then
+the band played, 'Pretty girls and pretty flowers.'"
+
+"Shame!" cried the three young ladies. For it was a common street song.
+
+"And then the curtain went up again of its own accord; but the
+gentleman behind us said somebody raised it--perhaps the 'Child of
+Love' himself, for he was not in prison when the curtain was down. The
+dressmaker gave him a peppermint-drop, and he said: 'Watch the stage,
+Juffrouw, for you have paid to see it.' It cost twelve stivers,
+without the waffles and chocolate. Then the Baron said--but I can't
+tell it all exactly as it was. I will only say that the old woman
+wept all the time, and she could not be reconciled, because she was so
+unhappy. You see, Juffrouw, the child of love was her own child; and it
+was also the Baron's child of love. That was bad--because it was just
+a child of love, you see; and that is always bad. He had no papers,
+no credentials; nor the mother, either. And he was to die because he
+had hunted. Oh, it was beautiful, Juffrouw! And then the curtain went
+down again and we ate another waffle. The gentleman behind us said it
+was well that they gave plays with prison scenes in them. There were
+so many bad people in the hall, such as pickpockets and the like,
+and this would be a warning for them. The dressmaker was going to
+offer him another mint-drop, when she saw that her box was gone. It
+was silver. The gentleman said of course some pickpocket had taken it."
+
+"He was the pickpocket!" exclaimed several.
+
+Leentje was indignant at the idea.
+
+"No, no! Don't say that; it's a sin. He was a very respectable
+gentleman, and addressed me as Juffrouw, just as he did the
+dressmaker. He tried to find the thief. He asked where the Juffrouw
+lived, and said that if he found the box he would bring it to her. He
+wore a fancy vest--no, no, no. Don't say that of him!"
+
+"Well, tell some more about the child of love." All were interested.
+
+"Oh, the music was so nice! And a gentleman showed them with a stick
+how to play."
+
+"But tell us about the comedy!"
+
+"That is not so easy. It was very beautiful. It must be seen; it can't
+be told. The Baron saw that the hunter in prison was his own son;
+because a long time before, you see, that is--formerly, he had been
+acquainted with--you understand----"
+
+Poor Leentje turned as red as fire, and left her audience in a
+temporary suspense.
+
+"Yes, he had known the old woman formerly, and then they were good
+friends, and were often together--I will just tell it that way--and
+they were to marry, but something came between them; and so--and--for
+that reason the comedy was called the 'Child of Love.'"
+
+Walter listened with as much interest as the others; but he was less
+affected than the girls, who sat quietly staring into space. Stoffel
+felt called upon to say something.
+
+"That's it! He abused her chastity--that's the way it's spoken of--and
+she was left to bear the disgrace. The youth of to-day cannot be
+warned enough against this. How often have I told the boys at school!"
+
+"Listen, Walter, and pay attention to what Stoffel says!"
+
+Encouraged by the approval of his mother, Stoffel continued.
+
+"Yes, mother, virtue must be revered. That is God's will; and what God
+does is well done. Of all sins sensual pleasure is--a very great sin,
+because it is forbidden; and because all sins are punished, either
+in this world or in the next."
+
+"Do you hear, Walter?"
+
+"Here, or in the next world, mother! Innocent pleasure, yes; but
+sensual pleasure--it is forbidden! It loosens all the ties of human
+society. You see that such a comedy can be very fine. Only you must
+understand it properly--that's the idea."
+
+"And what did the Baron do then?"
+
+"Ah, Juffrouw, what shall I say! He talked a whole lot to the old
+woman, and was very sad because he had--away back there--because
+he had----"
+
+"Seduced her," added Stoffel, seeing that Leentje couldn't find the
+word. "That's what it's called."
+
+"Yes, that's what she said, too; and he promised never to do it
+again. And then he told the child of love always to follow the path
+of virtue, and that he would marry the old woman. She was satisfied
+with the arrangement."
+
+"I suppose so," cried the three girls in a breath. "She will be a
+rich baroness!"
+
+"Yes," said Leentje, "she became a great lady. And then the child of
+love fell on the Baron's neck; and they played 'Bridal Wreath.' The
+'Child of Love' became a hussar and sang, 'I'm full of honor, I'm
+full of honor; Oh, I'm a man of honor!' I don't know what became of
+the old Baron. And then we went home; but the dressmaker took no more
+pleasure in the play now, because her silver box was gone. I don't
+know whether the gentleman ever brought it to her, or not."
+
+The play was out.
+
+The girls thought: "Baroness!"
+
+Stoffel was thinking: "Virtue!"
+
+The mother's thoughts ran: "Twelve stivers for a ticket, and waffles
+and chocolate extra!"
+
+Walter was saying to himself: "A hunter! A whole year in the forest,
+in the great forest, and alone. I'd like to do it, too."
+
+He took up his brush and looked at Ophelia: "To be alone in the great
+forest with--Femke!"
+
+But the theatre question was far from being settled. Leentje had to
+clear up many doubtful points yet. For instance, Pietro wanted to
+know how old the woman was when the Baron finally married her. Leentje
+thought she must have been about sixty.
+
+Also Juffrouw Laps had to express her opinion. She declared that she
+was opposed to everything "worldly," and insisted that Walter be sent
+to church.
+
+Later she got into a big dispute over the theatre with Master
+Pennewip, whom Stoffel had brought in to reinforce his position. He
+had brought with him "Floris the Fifth," that powerful comedy by the
+noble Bilderdyk. With many declensions and conjugations and remarks
+on rhyme and metre, he explained, firstly, that "Floris the Fifth"
+was a play from which much could be learned; and, secondly, that the
+theatre was something very moral and thoroughly respectable.
+
+To be sure, he failed to convince Juffrouw Laps. Nor was Walter
+greatly impressed by that masterpiece, despite the fact that there
+were three deaths in it. He much preferred the beautiful story of
+Glorioso, or the Peruvian story--or even Little Red Riding Hood.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+Walter had been to church: that was now behind him. Stoffel thought
+the pastor had preached a beautiful sermon, and said that "in a way
+all he said could be accepted." He hoped that it would "bear fruit."
+
+"Yes," said the mother, "and he mustn't tear his new breeches
+again. They cost too much hard work for that."
+
+As a matter of fact the "hard work" done in the Pieterse family
+might be regarded as a negligible quantity. There was the necessary
+housework, and the usual complaining--or boasting, if you will--but
+this was to be expected.
+
+That Walter had postponed his visit to go to church was a result of
+the frightful threats of Juffrouw Laps. She cited Second Chronicles
+xvi. 12, and in the face of this text the Pieterses were not able
+successfully to defend their new and more liberal position. Juffrouw
+Pieterse could only say that the Bible was not to be interpreted that
+way, as if everything in it applied to a given individual.
+
+But Juffrouw Laps stuck to it, that if one has faith and grace one
+may come through all right; whereupon Juffrouw Pieterse expressed
+her willingness at all times to take advice.
+
+"Those are the essential things; through them we are saved! And--send
+him to me the first of the week. Or he can come Sunday, but after
+church. Then he can tell me about the sermon, even if the pastors
+are--but what does a child know about it!"
+
+Juffrouw Laps didn't think much of pastors. She held that people
+with grace in their hearts can understand God's word without Greek
+and Latin.
+
+"Yes, Sunday after church. I will count upon it." And in order to
+make her invitation more insistent she mentioned certain sweets that
+she usually served her guests at that time.
+
+Supposing that Juffrouw Laps was really anxious for Walter to come,
+we must admit that she showed deep knowledge of boy-nature.
+
+As for Walter, he was afraid to be alone with this pious lady. For
+him she was the living embodiment of all the plagues that are made
+use of in the Old Testament to convert rebellious tribes to the true
+faith. For instance, thunder and lightning, pestilence, abysses,
+boils, flaming swords, etc.
+
+If he had had the courage he would have asked her just to deposit
+the promised dainties somewhere outside of her flat. He would find
+them then. But he didn't have the courage.
+
+"And why didn't you go?" asked the mother when Stoffel's enthusiasm
+over the sermon had begun to die down.
+
+Walter said he had a pain in his stomach, which children always have
+when they want to bridge over disagreeable duties. With a better
+understanding between the parents and children this disease would be
+less frequent.
+
+"I don't believe you have any pain in your stomach," declared the
+mother. "It's only because you're a bad child and never do what you're
+told to do."
+
+Stoffel agreed with her; and then a council of war was held. Walter
+was condemned to go to Juffrouw Laps's at once; and he went.
+
+Expecting some terrible ordeal, he was greatly embarrassed and confused
+by the show of friendliness with which he was received.
+
+"And you did come, my dear boy! But you are so late! Church has been
+out a long time. See what I have for you, expressly for you!"
+
+She thrust him into a chair at the table and shoved all sorts of
+sweets over to him. Walter's embarrassment increased; and he felt
+even less at ease when she began to stroke him and call him pet names.
+
+"Now, tell me about the sermon," she said, when the child tried
+to escape the tenderness and affection to which he was not
+accustomed. "What did the pastor say?"
+
+"The text----"
+
+"But that's all right--afterwards, when your mouth is empty. You must
+eat a few cakes first. Nobody can do everything at once. There is
+chocolate; and you're to have a little dram, too. I've always said
+that you are a nice boy; but they're forever plaguing you so. But
+you're not eating enough; do just as if you were at home."
+
+For Walter that was not the right expression. At home!
+
+His first surprise over Walter began to be possessed by a feeling of
+fear. Why, he could not have told to save him.
+
+Suddenly he got up and declared that his mother had told him not to
+stay long.
+
+There wasn't a word of truth in it. Juffrouw Laps protested, but
+Walter held his ground. Despite all of that kindness Walter was able
+to escape from the enemy.
+
+Promising "to come back soon" he ran down the steps and into the
+street.
+
+An indescribable feeling of freedom regained thrilled through him. He
+had escaped. It was incomprehensible even to him. Never had he been
+received so kindly, so cordially; never had he been treated in a
+manner approaching this. But why his antipathy? When he left she
+was going to kiss him, but he managed to dodge her. Why? He didn't
+know. But it made him shudder to think of it.
+
+Should he go home now? What excuse could he give for coming back
+so soon?
+
+Involuntarily he bent his steps toward Ash Gate. It was not his
+intention to visit Femke--not at all, really not! For he didn't have
+his Ophelia with him--proof conclusive that when he left home he had
+not thought of Femke.
+
+And when he came in sight of his mills on the Buitensingel--oh,
+they were silent! Was there no wind? Or were they observing Sunday?
+
+The Buitensingel was full of people taking a Sunday stroll. Walter
+followed the small stream, which led him towards Femke's house. Soon he
+stood before the low enclosure; but he did not dare to go in. Why? He
+put the blame on the absent Ophelia.
+
+"If I only had that picture here I'd certainly go in!"
+
+That is questionable. Even with the picture he would have probably
+been just as shy. He didn't know what he ought to say--or, better,
+whether he could say anything, or not. He reflected. Suppose Femke's
+mother should ask, "Did you want anything?"
+
+We--yes, the "gentle reader" and I--we should have known what to
+answer. I wonder if our wisdom would have been wiser than the stupidity
+of the child, who stood irresolute and hesitating before the fence?
+
+He stood staring at the house, his mouth wide open. His knees trembled,
+his heart fluttered, his tongue was dry.
+
+A small column of smoke curling up from the chimney aroused him. What
+if a fire should break out! Then he would have to go in. He would
+rescue her, and carry her away in his arms--far, far away--to the end
+of the world, or at least outside of the town! Just anywhere where
+the people wear red velvet and green silk, where the gentlemen carry
+big swords and the ladies wear long trains. They would be so becoming
+to Femke. And she should ride horseback, and he would follow her--no,
+he would ride by her side, with a falcon on his hand!
+
+If a fire should break out!
+
+But Walter saw that the house was in no danger. This smoke came from
+the kitchen. He noticed other houses in the neighborhood where cooking
+seemed to be going on, and everywhere the chimneys were bearing witness
+to activities below which were presumably similar to those of Femke.
+
+Finally a crowd of fellows came along who had evidently been stopping
+at one of those establishments where "refreshments" are served. They
+had been greatly refreshed, and in their exuberance of freshness,
+so to say, they crowded Walter away from the fence and took him along
+with them for a little way.
+
+He was easily reconciled to this; for why, he thought, should he
+stand there and watch the smoke? There wasn't going to be any fire;
+and then he didn't have Ophelia with him.
+
+But to-morrow! To-morrow he would bring that picture with him! And
+then he wouldn't stand at the fence like a baby.
+
+He felt ashamed when he thought of his friends in their gay colors,
+or in armor, with plumes and swords. Those kings and knights and
+pages--they had been courageous, otherwise they never would have
+received such high orders and distinctions. Unless there were some
+change, he felt that he would never be pictured like that.
+
+However, he expected that such a change would come--without doubt,
+surely, certainly, truly! The further he went, the more determined
+he became to go in the next day and put on a bold front and say:
+"Good-day, Juffrouw, how do you do?"
+
+It was more difficult for him to decide what he would say to Femke.
+
+He made up various little speeches in the manner of Floris the
+Fifth. In case Femke shouldn't like them he was going to say, "Why,
+that is from our greatest poet."
+
+And then he would ask her to explain a lot of mysterious words
+in Floris that he hadn't understood--for instance, "fast fellow,"
+"coverture," "chastity," and others.
+
+Walter's development was determined by his desire to know things. His
+feeling for Femke, which was hardly real love, was subordinated to
+his thirst for knowledge. He knew that he couldn't get much from her,
+especially book-learning; but it was a pleasure merely to discuss
+things with her, even if she knew nothing about them.
+
+He was curious to know all that she might have to tell him, or to ask
+him; for no doubt she too had been saving up her impressions for her
+first friend. But, alas! he was not so certain of her friendship! True,
+when he was sick she had asked about him; but perhaps she was just
+passing by, and thought how easy it would be to ring the bell and ask,
+"How is Walter?"
+
+Still it had taken courage to do it. What would Mungo Park have said
+if he had seen him hesitating before the gate! Walter knew that wasn't
+the way to conquer the world.
+
+And if anybody had asked Mungo Park: "What do you want in Africa?"
+
+Well, he would have answered. Such a traveller in such a book is
+never embarrassed.
+
+Then Walter began to address all sorts of remarks to negro kings
+that he had conquered with lance and sword. All the women kissed his
+hand as he rode by on his bay, with fiery red caparison. He inquired
+patronizingly after those good girls who had nursed him in his illness,
+"because the strange white man was far from mother and sisters and
+had no home." He would reward them princely.
+
+In all this conquered land Walter was king and Femke was--queen! How
+magnificent the big red velvet cloak would look on her--and the
+gold crown!
+
+Conquering continents was easy. He was scarcely thirteen; and yet
+he was afraid that somebody might get ahead of him while he was
+being detained by the treacherous Pennewip with declensions and
+conjugations. And, then there were still more things to learn before
+one could be king, even of a small country. Pocket-change would have
+to be increased too, for, with all possible economy, six doits a week
+were insufficient. The Hallemans--well, they had more; but fortunately
+they were not thinking of Africa. For the present he was not afraid
+of any competition from that quarter; but other children, nearer the
+"grown-up" stage, might get the idea in their heads! And then, what
+would he do to keep his mother from guessing when he made his trips
+into the "interior" longer, and stayed out later than was allowed by
+the regulations of the Pieterse household?
+
+It was a difficult matter, but he would manage it.
+
+All that might happen to him and Femke in Africa would be read
+afterwards in pretty little books with colored pictures. He already
+saw himself sitting on a throne, and Femke by his side. She was not
+proud; she was willing for everybody to know--all those kneeling
+before her--that she had been a poor wash-girl. She had become queen
+because Walter had loved her; and now they needn't kneel any more.
+
+On special occasions--well, of course, that was different; for
+instance, when his mother and Stoffel came to visit him. They should
+see how all the people honored him--and Femke whom they had treated so
+badly. But once would be enough; then he would forgive them everything
+and build them a big house with water-barrels and wash-tubs. For
+Pennewip he would build a big schoolhouse, with desks and ink-bottles
+and copy-books and wall maps of Europe and tables of the new weights
+and measures. Then the old master could give instruction from early
+in the morning till late at night--or even all night.
+
+He was just puzzling over how he was going to reconcile Master
+Pennewip and the dusky young African to one another when Leentje
+opened the door.
+
+Without noticing it he had got home and rung the
+door-bell. Unsuspectingly he fell into an environment quite different
+from that in which he had moved for the last half hour. He scarcely
+understood what his mother meant when she asked him how the visit
+turned out, and whether Juffrouw Laps was satisfied with his report
+on the sermon.
+
+Sermon? Laps? He was unprepared for such an examination. He stammered
+out a sort of miscellaneous and irrelevant jumble of words, but
+fortunately containing nothing about Africa.
+
+It now developed that in the meantime there had been a sudden change
+in certain details of religious belief.
+
+"You see, mother?" said Stoffel. "Just as I've always said, it
+would take a lawyer to explain anything to suit her. She always
+knows better----"
+
+"That's so," answered the mother. "She's cracked or crazy. Now,
+just tell me, Stoffel, if anyone can expect such a child to remember
+everything a preacher says. I can't do it myself; and you can't do it,
+either. Master Pennewip can't do it. I tell you, nobody can do it. And
+to require that of such a child! She just wants to play the professor;
+that's the reason she does it."
+
+Stoffel was of the same opinion. Encouraged by his sympathy the mother
+became eloquent.
+
+"I would like to know what she's thinking about; or if she thinks
+she's a pastor. With all her biblical quotations! And then to torment
+a child hardly out of a sick bed--it's a disgrace. You don't need to
+go to her. What business have you got with her? I tell you----"
+
+Here it occurred to her that she herself had compelled Walter to go,
+and she interrupted this line of thought to scold Walter and tell him
+to get out of his Sunday breeches. Her dissatisfaction with herself
+expressed itself further in a funeral oration on Walter's last suit,
+which had cost so much "hard work."
+
+"And then to let that child sit there for an hour without anything
+to eat or drink! She would----"
+
+Walter's feeling for justice couldn't let that pass. He assured them
+that on the contrary--and then that excessive kindness got in his way
+again. In his confusion he went into all the details of the chocolate.
+
+"Well! Why didn't you say so at once? But it's all the same. I was
+going to add that she ought to have given you something to eat. That's
+the way such folks are--always grumbling about others and they won't
+see themselves. I believe in grace too, and when I have my housework
+done I like to hear the Scripture read--but to be everlastingly and
+eternally prating about it? No, that isn't religion. What do you say,
+Stoffel? One must work part of the time. Walter! aren't you going
+to pull off those new breeches? I've told him a dozen times. Trudie,
+give him his old ones!"
+
+Walter changed his breeches; but he promised himself that in Africa
+he would wear Sunday breeches every day.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+The next day Walter rang the doctor's door-bell. His heart was in a
+flutter, for the doctor lived in an imposing house. He was admitted
+and, after he had been announced, was told just to come upstairs.
+
+The maid conducted Walter to the "study," where the doctor was busy
+performing one of his paternal duties: he was teaching his children.
+
+There were three. A boy, somewhat older than Walter, sat alone in one
+corner writing at a small table. The other two, a boy of Walter's
+age and a girl that seemed to be a few years younger, stood before
+the table behind which the doctor was sitting. On the table stood a
+large globe, evidently the subject of discussion. This became clear
+to Walter later, for, as far as he knew, he had never seen such a
+large ball. He didn't know that there was any other way to explain
+the location of countries except by means of maps. Thus he noticed
+in the room all sorts of things that he didn't understand till later.
+
+When the maid opened the door of the room he heard the voices of
+the children, and also that of the father. He even heard laughter;
+but when he walked in all became as still as death. The two children
+at the table stood like soldiers. There was something so comical in
+their attitude that Walter could have laughed at them if he hadn't
+been so embarrassed. Even the girl had a touch of official earnestness
+in her face more striking than he had seen it in older people, even
+at church. While the doctor was welcoming Walter and offering him
+a chair, the boy stood with hands clapped down on the seams of his
+trousers as if he expected someone to say, "Right about--face!" or,
+"Forward, column right, march!"
+
+The larger boy in the corner had only looked up once, but with
+that peculiarly hostile expression which distinguishes man from
+other animals--to the disadvantage of the former. It is noticeable
+especially in children--sometimes in women.
+
+"I'm glad to see you, my boy. It was nice of you to come. What have
+you there?"--then he turned to the little soldiers.
+
+"Remind me afterward to tell you at dinner something about Olivier
+van Noort. William, you can think of it, can't you?"
+
+Walter squinted at his Lady Macbeth, and was so embarrassed that he
+was helpless to present it to the doctor. The room was so magnificent;
+and the furnishings--the big cases full of books! His picture seemed
+so common and ugly that, if he could have done so, he would have
+swallowed it.
+
+At home they had taught him how he must stand and sit and speak;
+and now he stood there, as awkward as a cow, stammering and
+stuttering. Making a supreme effort he managed to get it out that he
+had "come to thank the doctor" for his recovery--"but God first"!
+
+The two soldiers bit their lips; and even the doctor found it difficult
+to keep a straight face.
+
+"God first! Well said, my boy. Have you already thanked God?"
+
+"Yes, M'nheer, every evening in bed, and yesterday at church."
+
+Little Sietske unable to control herself any longer had to laugh
+outright. Her laughter threatened to become contagious. William was
+busier than usual with his nose; Hermann had come to life and was
+eyeing Walter slyly.
+
+"Order!" thundered the doctor, giving the table a rap with a ruler
+that made the globe tremble. Walter was frightened. "Order! This is
+a nice caper during study-hours."
+
+The clock began to strike. Sietske seemed to be counting, for at
+every stroke she raised a finger.
+
+"I am going to----"
+
+"Five!" she cried. "All my fingers--just look, five! Five o'clock,
+papa--Tyrant! Hurrah, hurrah!"
+
+Both boys joined in the uproar. It was a quodlibet from "Gaudeamus
+igitur," "Vive la joie," and "God save the king." Forward, all! Vive
+la vacance! A bas les tyrans! Revenge! * * * *
+
+The children were determined to have their well earned romp; and they
+had it. Walter rubbed his eyes, and would not believe his ears. It
+was beyond his comprehension. * * * *
+
+"That will do now," said the doctor. "Come, mamma is waiting
+dinner--and you, too, my boy!"
+
+William took Sietske on his back and Hermann mounted the father. Thus
+they descended the stairs, Walter bringing up the rear. Lady Macbeth
+had disappeared, being now crumpled up in Walter's breast-pocket.
+
+Walter was nonplussed. Was this the same man who used the gold
+pen?--whose coachman wore the furs?
+
+How was it possible? Was it a dream, that he and all the family had
+looked on this man and simply been overcome by his dignity?
+
+He couldn't understand it.
+
+Again the atmosphere of the dining-room was quite different from that
+of the schoolroom, either before or directly after five.
+
+"Present the young gentleman to your mamma," said the doctor, turning
+to William.
+
+"May I do it?" asked Sietske.
+
+Doctor Holsma nodded, and the little girl took Walter by the hand and
+conducted him to a lady who sat at the head of the table preparing
+the salad.
+
+"Mamma, this is a young gentleman--oh, I must know your name. What
+is your name?"
+
+"Walter Pieterse."
+
+"This is Mr. Walter Pieterse, who has come to thank papa, because
+he--he was sick; and he--the young gentleman is going to stay for
+dinner, papa?"--the doctor nodded again--"and he's going to stay for
+dinner, mamma."
+
+"With mamma's consent," said the father.
+
+"Yes, with mamma's consent."
+
+Mevrouw Holsma spoke to Walter kindly and offered him a chair. It
+was necessary, too.
+
+Everything seemed so princely to Walter that he was glad to be
+seated. Three-fourths of his little figure was hidden under the
+table. That was something gained. He was amazed at almost everything
+he saw and heard. He folded his hands.
+
+"Do you want to say a grace, little man?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Yes, M'nheer," Walter stammered.
+
+"A good custom. Do you always do that at the table?"
+
+"Yes, always--at warm meals, M'nheer!"
+
+Those children had been taught good manners. Nobody smiled.
+
+Walter bowed his head for a moment; and the doctor took advantage
+of the opportunity to give the children a look of warning. They
+remembered; and, if afterwards Walter discovered that he had cut a
+singular figure in this household, they were not to blame.
+
+"You do well to do it," said Holsma. "We don't do it; and perhaps we
+do well not to."
+
+"Certainly," said the mother. "Everyone must act according to his
+own conviction."
+
+This simple statement moved Walter more than any of them could have
+imagined. He--a conviction! That short sentence of Mevrouw Holsma
+attributed to him a dignity and importance that was strange to him,
+and gave him a right he had never thought of before. Through the soup
+he was thinking continually: "I may have a conviction!"
+
+It never occurred to him that a thing could be interpreted otherwise
+than it was interpreted for him by his mother or Stoffel, or some
+other grown-up person. The whole question of praying, or not praying,
+did not appear so important to him as this new fact, that he could
+have a conviction. His heart swelled.
+
+The doctor, who understood Walter, recalled him from his thoughts.
+
+"Everyone must act according to his conviction; and in order to come
+to a conviction one has to reflect a long time over the matter. I
+am convinced that our little guest would like to eat some of those
+peas. Pass them to him, Sietske."
+
+Walter had grasped the import of Holsma's words, and also the meaning
+of this transition to the peas. Walter felt--without putting his
+feelings into words--that the pedantry of the schoolroom had been put
+aside at five o'clock, and that his host merely wanted to give him a
+friendly warning against dogmatic bigotry, without tainting the fresh,
+wholesome atmosphere of the dining-room.
+
+Despite his shy, retiring nature--or, better, in connection with this
+characteristic--Walter was an extremely intelligent boy. This fact
+had escaped almost everybody he had come in contact with because of
+his lack of self-confidence, which prevented him from revealing his
+true self. He usually seemed to comprehend more slowly than others;
+but this was because he was less easily satisfied with the result of
+his thinking. His mind was exacting of knowledge. During Walter's
+sickness Holsma had remarked this peculiarity of the boy, and his
+interest had been enlisted at once.
+
+Walter's shyness was due in a great measure to the manner in which
+he had been taught what little he knew. Everything his teachers
+taught him was looked upon by them as something immutable and
+irrefutable. Twice two is four, Prince so-and-so is a hero, good
+children go to heaven, God is great, the Reform Church represents the
+true faith, etc., etc. It was never hinted to him that there was any
+room for doubt. Indeed, he was led to believe that his desire to know
+more about things was improper and even sinful.
+
+After all those extraordinary occurrences in the study, Walter was
+prepared to expect almost anything in the way of the unusual, but
+that William and Hermann, and even little Sietske, were allowed to
+help their plates to whatever they wanted--that was more wonderful
+to him than the aÎrial voyage of Elias. With GeneviËve in the famous
+wilderness--yes, even in Africa it couldn't be any more free and
+easy. He was continually surprised and taken off his guard by the
+unwonted and unexpected. In fact, his thoughts were so far away that
+when during dessert the little girl passed him a saucer of cream----
+
+Ye gods, it happened and--I must tell it. Oh, if like the
+chroniclers of old, I might put the blame on some privy councilor,
+"who unfortunately advised," etc.
+
+But what privy councilor in the whole world could have advised Walter
+to let that porcelain spoon tilt over the edge of the saucer and fall
+into Sietske's lap! He did it, he!
+
+Oh, how sad it was. He had just begun to pull himself up in his
+chair. Another moment and he would have actually been sitting. Perhaps
+he might have said something soon. The name of a certain country in
+Africa, which Sietske could not remember a moment before, had occurred
+to him. It was not that he might seem smarter than Sietske that he
+was going to speak out. No, it was only that he might seem a little
+less stupid than himself. But now--that miserable spoon!
+
+Before he had time to wonder how his awkwardness would be received,
+Sietske was talking along smoothly about something else--just as if
+this little "catastrophe" was a matter of course.
+
+"Papa, you were going to tell us something about Olivier van Noort."
+
+She arose, wiped off her little skirt and fetched Walter another
+spoon from the buffet.
+
+"Yes, papa, Olivier van Noort! You promised it, papa."
+
+All urged him to tell the story. Even Mevrouw Holsma manifested great
+interest in it. Walter was aware that this conversation was intended
+to cover up his accident. He was moved; for he was not accustomed to
+anything like this. As Sietske took her seat again she noticed a tear
+creeping down across his cheek.
+
+"Mamma, I got a silver spoon. That's just as good, isn't it? These
+porcelain things are so heavy and awkward. They've fallen out of my
+hand three times; and Hermann can't manage them, either."
+
+The mother nodded to her.
+
+"And how it is with Olivier van Noort?"
+
+The door-bell rang, and almost immediately afterwards a gentleman
+entered the room who was greeted by the children as Uncle Sybrand.
+
+The host now invited all to the garden and sent Hermann to the study
+for a book.
+
+"You young rascal, don't you go now and maliciously break that
+globe. It can't help it."
+
+Then came the story of Admiral Olivier van Noort and the poor
+Vice-Admiral Jan Claesz van Ilpendam, who was put ashore in the Strait
+of Magellan for insubordination. It interested all, and called forth
+a lively discussion, in which the entire family as well as the guests
+took part.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+To readers of a certain class of fiction it will no doubt seem strange
+if I say that Walter's visit to the Holsma family influenced greatly
+his spiritual development. Not immediately; but a seed had been planted
+which was to grow later. He saw now that after all independent thought
+was possible, even if he could not yet allow himself that luxury. The
+mere knowledge that there were other opinions in the world than those
+of his daily mentors was a long stride forward.
+
+He was depressed on account of his lack of knowledge. Those children
+knew so much more than he did; and this made him sad.
+
+They had spoken of someone who was startled to find footprints. Who
+was it? The child had never heard of Defoe's hermit. He asked Stoffel.
+
+"Footprints? Footprints? Well, you must tell me what footprints you
+mean--whose footprints. You must give names when you ask questions."
+
+"That's right," said the mother, "when you want to know anything
+you must mention names. And Mevrouw made the salad herself? Well,
+that's strange. The girl must have been out somewhere."
+
+As to other "strange" things, which were not likely to meet the
+approbation of his family, Walter was silent. Not a word about
+that Saturnalia, or the omission of grace at a "warm meal"! Nor
+did he mention the liberties that were allowed the children, or the
+freedom with which they joined in the conversation. Perhaps it was
+a superfluous precaution. That bearskin would have been excused for
+many shortcomings.
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse asked repeatedly if he had been "respectable." Walter
+said he had, but without knowing exactly what she meant. That affair
+with the spoon--had it been respectable? He didn't care to have this
+question decided--at least by his mother. But it was nice of Sietske;
+and wouldn't he have done the same?
+
+He learned that the day was approaching when he must return to
+school. More than ever he felt that this source of knowledge was
+insufficient for him; but opposition was not to be thought of. He
+was dissatisfied with himself, with everything.
+
+"I shall never amount to anything," he sighed.
+
+His Lady Macbeth seemed uglier to him than ever. He tore her up. And
+Ophelia?
+
+Goodness! He hadn't thought of Femke the whole day. Was it because
+she was only a wash-girl, while the doctor's children were so
+aristocratic? Walter censured himself.
+
+He took advantage of the first opportunity to pay his debt in that
+quarter. For he felt that it was a debt; and this consciousness gave
+him courage. Picture in hand, he passed the familiar fence this time
+and knocked boldly on the door. His heart was thumping terribly;
+but he must do it! In a moment he stood before Femke. The lady of
+his heart was quietly darning stockings. It is hard on the writer;
+but this little detail was a matter of indifference to Walter.
+
+"Oh!" she cried, extending her hand. "Mother, this is the young
+gentleman we saw that time--the little boy who was so sick. And how
+are you now? You look pale."
+
+"Take a seat, little boy," said the mother. "Yes, you do look
+pale. Worms, of course."
+
+"No, no, mother. The child has had nervous fever."
+
+"All right--fever, then; but it could be from worms. Give him a cup,
+Femke. It won't hurt you to drink coffee; but if it were worms----"
+
+Mrs. Claus's worms were more in Walter's way than the stockings.
+
+"Where does your mother have her washing done?" she asked. "Not that
+I want to pump you--not at all. But if she isn't satisfied with her
+wash-woman--it sometimes happens, you understand. Everybody must
+look out for himself; and I just thought I'd mention it. Whenever
+there are any ink-spots Femke takes them out with oxalic acid; and
+it never makes any holes--yes, it did happen once, and we had to pay
+for a pair of cuffs. You can ask Femke."
+
+The fact was, he wanted to ask Femke something else; and she knew
+it. The story of Aztalpa had left its marks on her mind. But she
+was hampered very much like Walter was at home. She couldn't say,
+"Mother, speak a bit more Peruvian!" So she simply asked what the
+roll was that he had in his hand.
+
+Walter was confused, but he managed to stammer that it was a present
+for her. Femke said she would always take good care of the picture.
+
+"Yes," said the mother, "and you must iron out those creases. We iron,
+too, little boy, and we deliver the clothes ready to put on. Nobody can
+complain. You can tell your mother. And your collar--it isn't ironed
+nicely--and such bluing! Ask Femke. Femke, isn't the blue in stripes?"
+
+His collar not ironed nicely? and blued in stripes? And the infallible
+Pietro had laundered it! Even here, were there differences in method
+and conception? And in this respect, too, was the Pieterse tradition
+not the only one that brought happiness?
+
+Femke was on nettles. She studied Ophelia, wondering who she was,
+and tried to turn the conversation. At last something occurred to
+her. It was necessary for her to run some errand or other, and "the
+young gentleman" could "accompany" her a part of the way.
+
+"As far as I'm concerned," said the mother.
+
+The young couple retired, taking one of those ways which in the
+neighborhood of Amsterdam are simply called "the ways." That is all
+they are. Whoever walks there for pleasure must take a good stock of
+impressions with him, in order to escape tedium.
+
+But Walter and Femke were not lacking in this respect. Walter had
+so much to tell Femke that he could scarcely hope to get through;
+and she, too, had thought of him more than she was willing to admit,
+and more than he had any idea of. She began by saying that she hadn't
+told her mother of her unfriendly reception by Walter's mother and
+sisters, because she didn't want her mother----
+
+"Oh, Femke--and you thought I would come?"
+
+"Yes." said Femke, hesitating, but still with a readiness that
+delighted Walter. "Yes, of course I expected to see you again. And
+I had a mass said for your recovery."
+
+"Really?" said Walter, who hardly knew what it meant.  "You did that
+for me?"
+
+"Yes, and I prayed, too. I should have been sad if you had died. For
+I believe you are a good boy."
+
+"I ought to have come sooner; and I wanted to, but--Femke, I was
+afraid."
+
+He related to her how he had been near her on Sunday. The girl
+attributed his timidity to his diffidence toward her mother.
+
+"My mother is a good woman. She wouldn't hurt anybody, but--you
+understand. She doesn't mix with people much. I understand the
+world better, because, you see, I was a nurse for three weeks. I was
+only substituting; I was too young to be a real nurse. It was at a
+relation's of ours, where the girl was sick. You know we really come
+of a good family. But that makes no difference. Tell me, are you well
+and strong again?"
+
+Walter told her now all about his sickness, and soon he came
+involuntarily to the thing that gave him most trouble, his defective
+knowledge.
+
+"All the children know French; but at our school it isn't taught. It's
+impossible to be a great man without knowing French."
+
+Walter had difficulty in explaining to her that he meant something
+other than the possession of three houses, though that might not
+be bad.
+
+"I should like--you understand? I should like--yes--I should like--how
+shall I explain?"
+
+The sovereignty of Africa was on the end of his tongue; but he didn't
+have the courage to put his dreams into words.
+
+"You know, Femke, that we live here in Europe. Now, down there in the
+south, far away--I will draw it for you. We can sit down here and I
+will show you exactly what I mean."
+
+He selected some small sticks suitable for making outlines on the
+ground, then he and Femke sat down on a low pile of boards. He
+proceeded to scratch up the sand for some distance around.
+
+"That is Europe. The earth is round; that is, it consists of
+two halves, like a doughnut. You see, it looks like a pair of
+spectacles. With that half we are not concerned. That's America. You
+can put your feet on it if you want to. Here is where we live; there
+is England; and here is Africa. The people there are uncivilized. They
+can't read, and they don't wear many clothes. But when a traveler
+comes along they are very nice to him--the book says so. I'm going
+down there and teach all the people to read and give them clothes and
+see to it that there is no injustice done in the whole land. And then
+we will----"
+
+"I, too?" asked Femke in amazement.
+
+"Why, certainly! I wanted to ask you if you were willing to go with
+me. We will be man and wife, you understand; so when I get to be king
+you will be----"
+
+"I? Queen?"
+
+She laughed. Involuntarily she rose and trampled to pieces all the
+kingdoms that Walter had just laid at her feet.
+
+"But--won't you be my wife?"
+
+"Oh, you boy! How did you get such nonsense into your head? You are
+still a child!"
+
+"Will you wait then till I'm grown up? Will you let me be your friend?"
+
+"Certainly! Only you mustn't think of that nonsense--not that you may
+not go to Africa later. Why not? Many people go on journeys. Formerly
+there lived a carpenter near us, and he went to the Haarlem with his
+whole family. But--marrying!"
+
+She laughed again. It pained Walter. The poor boy's first proposal
+was turning out badly.
+
+Suddenly Femke became serious.
+
+"I know that you are a good boy; and I think a great deal of you."
+
+"And I!" cried Walter. "Femke, I have thought of you all the time--when
+I was sick--in my fever--I don't know what I thought of in my fever,
+but I think it must have been you. And I talked to the picture I
+painted for you as if it were you; and that picture answered like you
+and looked like you. I was Kusco and Telasco, and you were Aztalpa,
+the daughter of the sun. Tell me, Femke, may I be your friend?"
+
+The girl reflected a moment; and in her pure, innocent heart
+she felt the desire to do good. Was that seventeen-year-old girl
+conscious of the influence that Walter's childish soul exerted upon
+her? Scarcely. But she wanted to give him a less cruel answer.
+
+"Certainly, certainly you shall be my friend. But--but----"
+
+She was hunting for some excuse that would not hurt him, and still let
+him see the difference in their ages. He had grown during his illness,
+to be sure, but still--she could have carried him on her arm. And he
+had dreamed of rescuing her from a fire!
+
+"My friend, yes. But then you must do everything that I require."
+
+"Everything, everything! Tell me quick what I can do for you."
+
+It was painful for the girl. She didn't know what she should require;
+but she was under the necessity of naming something. She had always
+heard that it was good for children to study hard. What if she should
+spur him on to do that?
+
+"Listen, Walter. Just for fun I told my mother that you were the best
+in school."
+
+"I?" cried Walter abashed.
+
+"Study hard and be the first in school inside the next three months,"
+said Femke to the conqueror of continents, unaware of the sarcasm
+that lay in her words. "Otherwise, you see, my mother might think
+I had made fun of you; and I don't want that to happen. If you will
+only do that----"
+
+"I will do it, Femke!"
+
+"Then you must go home and begin at once."
+
+Thus she sent him away. As she told him "Good-bye" she noticed all
+at once that he was too large for her to kiss. A few hours later,
+when Father Jansen was calling on her mother and incidentally saw
+Walter's painting, Walter suddenly became a child again. The priest
+had said that in Dutch Ophelia meant Flora, who was the patron-saint
+of roses and forget-me-nots.
+
+"Oh, that picture is from a little boy, a very small boy. He's about
+ten years old--or nine. He's certainly not older than nine!"
+
+"Girl, you are foolish!" cried the mother. "The boy is fifteen."
+
+"Yes, that may be--but I just meant that he's still only a child."
+
+She stuck Ophelia away in some hidden nook, and Mrs. Claus and Father
+Jansen never saw that new edition of the old flower-goddess again.
+
+"Femke, I will do it!" Walter had said.
+
+There was really reason to believe that he would learn faster now;
+but Pennewip's instruction would wear Femke's colors. Walter knew
+very well that in requiring this service she had had his own welfare
+in view; but this showed her interest in him, and was not so bad. How
+would it have looked, he thought, if, after all that had gone before,
+he had answered: "Everything except that!"
+
+Of course he would have greatly preferred to serve his lady on some
+journey full of adventure. But one cannot select for one's self
+heroic deeds. In these days Hercules and St. George would have to
+put up with miniature dragons.
+
+At all events, Walter took hold of his work in earnest. He studied his
+"Ippel," his "Strabbe," his "National History" and even the "Gender
+of Nouns," and everything else necessary to the education of a good
+Netherlander. Poetry was included; and Walter's accomplishments along
+this line were such that other "Herculeses" might have envied him.
+
+He had never read the stories of tournaments. No enchantress gave
+him a charmed coat of mail; no Minerva put the head of Medusa on
+his shield--no, nothing of all that. But--Keesje, the butcher's boy,
+might look sharp for his laurels!
+
+In justice to Walter it must be said that he gave his opponent fair
+warning, in true knightly style.
+
+At the end of three months Walter was actually the first in his
+classes. Pennewip was compelled to take notice of it.
+
+"It is strange," he remarked. "I might say that it is remarkable. Yes,
+in a way, it is unprecedented--without a parallel!"
+
+At home the result was that a great council was held regarding Walter's
+future. He didn't want to become a compositor; and to be a sailor--that
+would have suited him, but his mother was opposed to it. Stoffel,
+too, objected on the ground that usually only young people who are
+worthless on land are sent to sea.
+
+Thus Walter's plans for conquest were slipping away from him. He
+was not attracted by the brilliant careers that were proposed: They
+left Africa out of account. He didn't want to be a school-teacher,
+or a shoemaker, or a clerk, or a counter-jumper.
+
+However, after all authorities had been heard, Stoffel came
+to the conclusion that Walter was peculiarly well fitted for
+"business." Juffrouw Pieterse agreed with him thoroughly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+"A responsible business firm wants a young man (Dt. Ref.) of good
+family. He must be moral, well-behaved and not under fifteen years
+old. Prospect of salary if diligent and reliable. Good treatment
+guaranteed. Address written applications in own handwriting to
+'Business,' care E. Maaskamp's book and art store, Nieuwendyk,
+Amsterdam."
+
+The writer cannot recall what sort of art publications E. Maaskamp was
+dealing in just at that time, and will not make any guesses, for fear
+of getting the reader into chronological difficulties. If it should
+become necessary in writing Walter's history, the writer would have
+no compunctions of conscience in putting the republic after Louis,
+or William I. before the republic.
+
+And as for that "Dt. Ref."--Dutch Reform--in the advertisement--that
+gives the writer no trouble. He knows very well that "Dt. Ref." as a
+necessary qualification for servants, apprentices, etc., was introduced
+after E. Maaskamp's pictures had been forgotten. Nevertheless, it
+must be insisted upon that the aforesaid abbreviation was in the
+advertisement which was now occupying the undivided attention of
+the Pieterses.
+
+"There couldn't be anything more fortunate," said the mother. "What
+do you think, Stoffel?"
+
+"Yes, mother, it couldn't be better."
+
+"What pleases me especially is the 'well-behaved.'"
+
+"Moral and well-behaved, mother."
+
+"Yes, moral and well-behaved--do you hear, Walter? Just as I have
+always said. And 'prospect of salary.' What do you think of that,
+Stoffel?"
+
+"Yes, mother; but--he must be 'diligent and reliable.'"
+
+"Yes, Walter, you must be diligent and reliable. Haven't I always told
+you that? And they require 'Dt. Ref.'; but you are that, thank God."
+
+"Yes, mother, he's that all right."
+
+"Stoffel, don't you think you'd better write the letter?"
+
+"But it says 'in own handwriting.'"
+
+"That's so! But if you write the letter in your own handwriting--that
+will be better than for such a child to write it."
+
+Stoffel had some difficulty in making it plain to his mother that
+"own handwriting" meant Walter's own handwriting; but she finally
+saw the point, and Walter was given a seat at the table.
+
+"Well? What must I write at the top?"
+
+"Now, have you forgotten that again? Such a simple thing? Have you
+got down the date? Then write 'Gentlemen,' in business style. It says,
+'responsible business firm.'"
+
+"Yes," said the mother, "and add that your father had a business,
+too. We sold shoes from Paris. Otherwise they will think we're only
+shoemakers."
+
+"And write that you are the first in school."
+
+"And that you belong to the Dutch Reform Church."
+
+"And that you are moral and well-behaved."
+
+"And that you are diligent and reliable. Don't you see, you may get
+a salary then right away."
+
+At last the letter was ready. It only remained to stamp it and post
+it. But why couldn't the young applicant deliver the letter in person
+and save the postage? Stoffel thought there would be no impropriety
+in such a course. Even a responsible business firm ought to overlook
+such a detail.
+
+With a heavy heart Walter started out on his important errand. He was
+entering the real world, and was about to become a worshiper of the
+great god of "business." He was depressed by his lack of confidence,
+and felt that it was unbecoming in himself to make application to a
+"responsible business firm."
+
+If he met a man that looked well-to-do, he would ask himself if
+the gentleman was a "business man," and belonged to a "responsible
+business firm." This last high-sounding expression embodied mysteries
+which he did not attempt to understand. He would learn it all later.
+
+Walter stammered an excuse to the young fellow in the shop for not
+having sent his letter by post. The fellow didn't understand him, but
+threw the letter carelessly into a box containing a few dozen others
+that were awaiting the favorable consideration of Messrs. Motto,
+Business & Co.
+
+The fellow was busy with some Turkish battles in glaring colors,
+and declined to enter into any conversation with our hero. Walter's
+mouth watered for a bright picture of Grecian chivalry. But what good
+did it do? He had no money; and, besides, he was out for business,
+not for heroic deeds.
+
+"Later!" he thought.
+
+Arrived at home he received the usual scolding. His mother maintained
+that he had certainly not entered the shop in a "respectable" manner;
+otherwise the young gentleman would have given him a friendlier
+reception. She was afraid that those excellent gentlemen, Motto,
+Business & Co., would take this into consideration to his detriment.
+
+"And you say there were already a whole lot of letters there? You
+see, Stoffel--if he only isn't too late! That's the way--those people
+would break their necks or be first. And who knows but what some of
+them are Roman Catholics? I wonder if they all think they're moral
+and well-behaved. You can just see what kind of people there are in
+the world!"
+
+Walter had to go back to Maaskamp's and get the address of the firm
+in question. The idea was for him to call on the firm in person and
+thus get ahead of everybody else. Juffrouw Pieterse wanted to bet her
+ears that not a one of the other applicants could boast of a father
+who had sold Parisian shoes.
+
+"Tell them that! Your father never took a stitch in his life. He
+didn't even know how to. It's only to prove that we had a business,
+too. He never had an awl in his hand--isn't it so, Stoffel?"
+
+Those eminently respectable gentlemen, Motto, Business & Co., lived--I
+don't know where they lived; but they had founded on the Zeedyk a
+cigar store and a circulating library. It was probably not far from
+the place where six or eight centuries earlier a few fishermen had
+founded the greatest commercial city of Europe.
+
+Walter found one of those worthy gentlemen behind the counter. He was
+in his shirt-sleeves, and was engaged in weighing out some snuff for
+an old woman. "Business" was evidently being carried on.
+
+As Walter had formed no conception of "responsible business firm,"
+he was far from thinking that the gentlemen had claimed too much for
+themselves. With his peculiar timidity he even reproached himself
+for not having understood the conception "business" before.
+
+Now he understood it. Business meant to stand behind a counter,
+in shirt-sleeves, and weigh snuff. And, too, on the Zeedyk.
+
+The cigar store occupied only half the width of the house, and was
+connected with the circulating library by a side door. Motto, Business
+& Co. were simultaneously cultivating two industries: those who didn't
+care for snuff or tobacco could get something to read, and vice versa.
+
+Over the shelves, on the tobacco side, were posted signs bearing the
+assurance that something was "manufactured" here. Differing entirely
+from the Pieterses, these gentlemen seemed to think that to make
+a thing meant more than merely to sell it. We leave the question
+undecided.
+
+Was it true that this business firm manufactured anything? The only
+thing they manufactured was the paper bags that were to be pasted
+together by the moral, well-behaved, diligent and reliable young man
+who was a member of the Dutch Reform Church.
+
+The amount of business done was small, the profits barely paying the
+rent. The wicked world on the Zeedyk even said that the two blue
+porcelain vases bearing in old-fashioned letters the inscriptions
+"Rappee" and "Zinking," had been borrowed from a second-hand dealer
+in the neighborhood, and that the good man came by every day to look
+after his property.
+
+The shop was small, and was closed off in the rear by a green curtain,
+which was calculated to make customers think there was something more
+beyond. To be exact, there was something beyond that curtain. There
+hung a dilapidated mirror, consoling with a lonely chair, which was
+now ornamented by the coat of the worthy senior partner; and leaning
+against the wall was a half-round table, on which a pomatum-pot
+was making fun of a comb because for years it had been expecting
+to grow new teeth. Business was not so exacting but that Mr. Motto
+could devote a little spare time to the improvement of his personal
+beauty. He had succeeded in developing two beautiful bunches of hair
+on the sides of his face. They cost him much pains and grease; but
+they were the delight of all the ladies who entered the shop.
+
+"And so you want to go into business, do you?" asked Mr. Motto,
+after he had given the old woman a "pinch" from the jar. "What all
+have you studied? Reading, writing, arithmetic, French? Eh? And what
+are your parents."
+
+"They dealt in shoes--from Paris, M'neer. But I don't know
+French. Arithmetic--yes. Went through Strabbe."
+
+"And you know arithmetic, do you? How much then is a Pietje and
+a half?"
+
+Walter stammered that he didn't know. Does the reader know?
+
+"But you must know that if you expect to calculate. And you don't know
+what a Pietje is? Do you know the difference between a sesthalf and
+a shilling? And between a dollar and a twenty-eight piece? Look----"
+
+Mr. Motto pulled out the cash-drawer and seemed to be hunting for a
+dollar; but for some reason or other he decided to make out with a
+sesthalf. This he laid on the counter and asked Walter to imagine a
+shilling lying beside it. He then proceeded to test Walter's knowledge
+of business by asking him to point out the differences between the
+two coins. Mr. Motto claimed that in business one must know these
+details thoroughly.
+
+And Mr. Motto was right about it. At that time there were more
+different kinds of money in the Netherlands than there are in Germany
+now. To be able to distinguish the various coins readily and make
+change accurately a regular course of study was necessary. Just
+as a law was about to be passed to confer the title, "Doctor of
+Numismatics," on examination, the secretary of the treasury discovered
+that all this trouble could be spared by simplifying the money. He
+became very unpopular after this.
+
+In Walter's time, though, such a reform had not been thought of. The
+florin had twenty stivers; the regular Holland dollar had fifty
+stivers, the Zeeland dollar had forty-two. The dollar was worth a
+florin and a half, and the gold florin was called a "twenty-eight,"
+because it contained twenty-eight stivers. The coins were well-worn and
+seldom exhibited any traces of inscriptions, milling, etc. Matters were
+further complicated by three-florin pieces and ducats of sixty-three
+stivers, not to mention any other coins.
+
+For Walter the money question was a serious one.
+
+"And you don't know French, either?" in a tone that was scarcely
+encouraging.
+
+"No----" mournfully.
+
+"And would your parents put up cash security for you?"
+
+Walter didn't understand the question.
+
+"Caution. Don't you understand? Security! There's lots of money
+handled, and I must know who I'm turning the shop over to. And--do
+you know Danish?"
+
+Mr. Motto did not always speak grammatically.
+
+"No--M'neer."
+
+"What! Nor Danish, either? But Danish sailors come in here to buy
+tobacco, and then you need to speak Danish. In a business like this
+here you must know all languages. That's the main thing--otherwise
+your cake's dough! I've even had Greeks to come in here."
+
+Walter's heart gave a jump. What heroic deeds might they not do on
+such occasions!
+
+"Yes, Greeks; but they were drunk and wanted a smoke for nothing. We
+don't do it that way. The main thing is to look out for the
+little things. Otherwise your cake's dough, you understand. Yes,
+in business you must know all languages, otherwise you can't talk
+to the customers. That's the main thing. But that will be all right
+if your parents can deposit a caution. Sometimes there are at least
+ten florins in the cash-drawer, you know; and in business a man must
+have security. That's the main thing. Otherwise your cake's dough;
+you can see that for yourself."
+
+"My father is dead," said Walter, as if that fact rendered the cash
+security unnecessary. He didn't know anything else to say.
+
+"That so? Dead! Yes, it often happens. Dead? All right! But haven't
+you a mother who can pay for you?"
+
+"I--will--ask--her," Walter stammered.
+
+"Certainly. Ask her right away; for you know in business things
+are done in a hurry. Said, done! That's the main thing. Otherwise
+your cake's dough. Here is another shop, and you will have work to
+do in there, too--if your mother can put up the money. That's the
+main thing."
+
+Mr. Motto conducted Walter into the circulating library. On three sides
+of the room were bookcases reaching to the rather low ceiling. For the
+rest, the place was provided with a ladder to be used in gathering
+such fruits of literature as hung out of reach. And then there was
+a big, thick book, in which the diligent and reliable young man of
+Protestant faith was to enroll the names of the people who paid a
+dubbeltje a week for a book. It's cheaper now.
+
+"You see," said Mr. Motto, "that is the book, so to say the great
+book. You understand bookkeeping, don't you?"
+
+Unfortunately Walter had to admit that he had not yet studied that
+branch.
+
+"Nor bookkeeping, either? Boy! that's the main thing in business. If
+a man can't do that his cake's dough. It's very simple. You write down
+who takes out a book, with the day and date and street and number. And
+when they bring the book back you drawn a line through it; and you've
+got a pretty kettle of fish if you don't do it. When you don't know
+the people you must----"
+
+"Ask for a deposit!" cried Walter quickly, rejoiced that he knew
+something. It's doubtful if he knew what he was to draw the line
+through.
+
+"Yes, a deposit. A florin a week for a volume. Then, you understand,
+when a volume's gone, the cake's dough with that volume. Later I will
+explain to you everything about the cigars and tobacco; but first
+I must know whether your mother--ask her right away! And now I've
+explained everything to you at least half a dozen times. For there's
+no lack of boys that want to go into business; but when it comes to
+Moses and the Prophets--then they set the bow-sails. And that's the
+main thing. Otherwise you look a little delicate, but I must know
+first if your mother can deposit a caution. Adieu!"
+
+Walter went home in a peculiar frame of mind. At first the family
+did not think favorably of that "cash security." Stoffel, however,
+had often heard of such things, and negotiations were opened with
+the said firm. It was finally agreed that a deposit of one hundred
+florins should be made, for which the firm agreed to pay 3 1/2%
+interest. Juffrouw Pieterse was not quite satisfied with this, as
+she was accustomed to getting 4%; but "one must do something for
+one's children."
+
+Stoffel, who represented the Pieterses in these negotiations, was
+surprised that he never got to see more than the first half of
+the firm--or, better, the first third. He even took the liberty
+of remarking on the peculiar circumstance, when he learned that
+the "Co." was merely ornamental, while "Business" existed only in
+Mr. Motto's imagination. In fact that handsome and worthy gentleman
+alone constituted the "responsible business firm," and like an Atlas
+carried on his broad shoulders all the responsibilities incident to
+such a complicated and extensive undertaking. It was quite natural
+that he should desire to put a part of the burden on the back of some
+diligent, reliable Protestant boy, who could furnish cash security. For
+that was "the main thing."
+
+On the library side Walter developed a diligence against which only
+one thing could be urged: it was prejudicial to the tobacco industry
+adjoining. If he had smoked as much as he read, he would have made
+himself sick; and even his reading wasn't the best thing in the world
+for his health.
+
+He devoured everything indiscriminately--whether ripe or green. Most
+of that literary fruit was green. In a short time he was able to
+foretell the fate of the hero with a certainty that would have piqued
+the author. The cleverest literary craftsman couldn't let the poor
+orphan boy be as poor as a church mouse for ten pages, but that
+Walter would see the flashing of the stars and knightly crucifixes
+with which he was to be decked out on the last page. One might think
+this would cause him to lose interest in the book; but, no! He was
+constant to the end--to the official triumph. For him it would have
+been a sin to call to the Saxons and Normans a second too soon:
+"See if Ivanhoe isn't going to smash that big-mouthed Sir Brian de
+Bois-Guilbert!" And all the time he felt as if he were--Ivanhoe? No,
+as if he were the deity, who must give the hero strength to overcome
+that infamous scoundrel, Brian de Bois-Guilbert.
+
+Then all at once the door-bell would ring, and the magnanimous Walter
+would have to occupy himself with things less chivalrous.
+
+The only thing he could do in such moments was to weigh accurately,
+and not give anybody a cigar from the "tens" instead of from
+the "eights." Such conscienciousness, however, was futile, for
+in the cigar-boxes were cigars that ought to have been called
+"twenties." Mr. Motto said that the customers were usually drunk,
+and that it was all right to give them cabbage leaves to smoke. "You
+must size up your customer. That's the main thing."
+
+This was something Walter never could learn. With him, ten was ten,
+eight eight--no matter who the customer was. To take an unfair
+advantage, or tell a lie never occurred to him. From fear or
+embarrassment he might possibly tell an untruth; but if he had been
+asked a second time----
+
+As strange as it may seem, this aversion to lying and deception
+was nourished by the books he read. The brave knight fought till he
+was victorious, or dead. Only the fatally wounded surrendered. All
+this had Walter's hearty endorsement: He would not have acted
+differently. The beautiful heroine was loved by everybody; and the
+rejected suitors died of despair, or joined some desperate band. All
+quite proper. The good remained steadfast, in spite of the Devil and
+all his machinations--yes, in spite of tedium. Once selected by the
+author to be a high-toned, moral hero--then spotless garments! Walter
+wondered if such a one could have a pain in the stomach, or suffer
+other inconvenience. Certainly not in books!
+
+He did not know that such perfection was humbug. He was satisfied
+when the characters in such novels did what was required of them by
+the author. The villains were always betraying somebody; the heroes
+killed everything that got in their way; and the beautiful virgins
+charmed everybody. Even God, the God of romance, did his duty much
+better than--but that's another detail.
+
+Yesterday on the Zeedyk a big boy had beaten a little fellow. That
+ought to happen in a book. How all the knights would have come
+running! Walter, too, was going to--but how could he help it if his
+employer called him back? "What in the devil have you got to do with
+that? Your work is here in the store. You attend to your own business
+now, and don't mix yourself in other people's brawls. That's the
+main thing!"
+
+As a rule of conduct, this was not just what Walter was used to in
+his novels.
+
+Despite such interruptions he continued his reading. He was almost
+ready to begin on the last section of books, when he came to the
+store one morning and found everything locked up and under seal.
+
+The worthy Mr. Motto, it seems, had gone to America, as a sailor;
+and doubtless that was the "main thing." The unfortunate owner of the
+two snuff-vases had a big law suit over them. The point was whether
+they were a part of the assets, or not.
+
+On the Zeedyk at Amsterdam such processes must be tried according
+to Roman law; but as the Romans did not use snuff there is nothing
+said about "Rappee" in the Roman laws. The writer doesn't know how
+the matter finally turned out. It is to be hoped that everybody got
+what was coming to him.
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse, however, did not recover her hundred florins; and,
+as usual, she groaned: "There's always trouble with this boy."
+
+Walter couldn't help her. He had his own troubles: he had been cruelly
+interrupted in his reading. Of course the mysterious parentage of
+the young robber was perfectly clear to him; but still one likes to
+see whether one has guessed correctly, or not.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+"Do you think stivers grow on my back?" asked the mother the next
+day. "You still don't earn a doit! Do you have to buy tobacco for
+old soldiers?"
+
+Walter had nothing to say. Recently his mother had given him a shilling
+to give to Holsma's maid. Walter neglected to do this, and spent one
+stiver of the money on snuff for an old soldier.
+
+The mother continued her tirade, making use of the word "prodigue,"
+prodigal.
+
+"No, mother," said Stoffel, "that isn't it. He's behind in
+everything. He doesn't know yet how to handle money, that's it!"
+
+"Yes. He doesn't know how to handle money! All the other children at
+his age--when they have a stiver they either save it or buy themselves
+something. And he--what does he do? He goes and gives it away! Boy,
+boy, will you never learn any sense?"
+
+Walter was cut to the quick by the accusation of wastefulness and
+prodigality. In his eyes a prodigal was somebody, a man! "Prodigue,
+prodigue," he murmured. He knew the word.
+
+In one of the bedrooms hung a series of crude, highly colored pictures
+illustrating the story of the prodigal son. The pictures were French;
+and a study of the titles convinced the family that "prodigue" could
+mean nothing but prodigal in the worst sense, i. e., "lost." Stoffel
+had maintained this proposition against one of his colleagues, till
+that one drew a lexicon on him.
+
+After much argument it was decided to compromise on the "mistake"
+in the French Bible by allowing "prodigue" to have sometimes the
+meaning of "extravagant." Those pictures had afforded Walter much
+food for thought.
+
+First picture: The "lost" or prodigal son tells his father
+good-bye. The old gentleman wears a purple coat. Very pretty--but the
+prodigal himself! A mantle floated about his shoulders--it seemed to
+be windy in the colonnade. It was princely; and his turkish trousers
+were of pure gold. At his side was a bent sabre, and on his head a
+turban, with a stone in it--certainly onyx, or sardonox, or a pearl,
+or a precious stone--or whatever it might be!
+
+The old gentleman seemed to be out of humor; but no wonder--all those
+loaded camels, and the slaves, and all the accessories for that long,
+long journey! A negro, as black as pitch, was holding a horse by
+the rein. Another negro was holding the stirrup, and seemed to say:
+"Off to the Devil; prodigal, get on!"
+
+What boy wouldn't have been a prodigal son? The bent sabre alone was
+worth the sin.
+
+Second picture: Hm--hm. Wicked, wicked! Why, certainly; but not for
+Walter, who in his innocence attached no importance to the extravagant
+dresses of the "Juffrouwen." It was sufficient that all were eating
+and drinking bountifully, and that they were in good spirits and
+enjoying themselves. How prettily one of the girls, in glossy silk,
+was leaning over the shoulder of the "lost" one! How much nicer to be
+lost than found!--anyway, that was the impression the feast made on
+Walter. The true purpose of the picture--to deter people from a life of
+dissoluteness--escaped Walter entirely. Perhaps he knew what it meant;
+but in his heart he felt that it meant something else. What attracted
+him most was not the food and drink, under which the table "groaned,"
+nor the sinful sensuality painted on the faces of the ladies. It was
+the freedom and unconventionality of the company that charmed him. In
+order to emphasize the idea of prodigality, the painter had allowed
+some big dogs to upset an open cask of wine.
+
+The wine was streaming, and straying away as if it were the lost
+sinner. This pleased Walter immensely. None of the guests seemed to
+notice such a small trifle, not even the waiters. This ought to have
+happened just once in the Pieterse home--and even if it were only a
+stein of beer!
+
+The artist says to himself, Do you suppose I didn't foresee the
+seductive influence of such a picture? The next one makes it all right!
+
+Well, maybe so.
+
+Third picture: Magnificent. How romantic this wilderness! Oh, to
+sit there on that boulder and stare into the immeasurable depths of
+the universe--alone!
+
+To think, think, think!
+
+No schoolmaster, no mother, brother, or anyone to say what he
+must do with his heart, with his time, with his elbows, or with his
+breeches! That's the way Walter saw it. The young man there didn't even
+have on breeches; and he looked as if he wouldn't have been ashamed
+to stretch himself out on his back, with his arms over his head, and
+watch with wide-open eyes the passing of the moon and stars. Walter
+asked himself what he would think of when he had founded such an
+empire of solitude.
+
+Hm! Femke could sit on the boulder with him. Prodigal son--oh,
+sin divine with her! He was surprised that in the whole Bible there
+was only one prodigal son. Of all sins this seemed to him the most
+seductive.
+
+And the desert was so--endurable. There were trees in it, which one
+could climb, when one really got lost, or use to build a nice little
+cabin--for Femke, of course.
+
+The prodigal in the picture didn't seem to have thought of all
+that. Why wasn't the Juffrouw in green silk with him? She will come
+soon, Walter said to himself. Perhaps she's not quite through with
+her prodigality. If she would only hurry up and come! He longs for
+her. But that is the only annoyance that a genuine prodigal takes
+with him from the profane world into that capital wilderness.
+
+It must be remarked in passing, however, that the hogs with which
+that picture was equipped looked ugly. The pious artist had made them
+shield-bearers of sin, and had supplied their physiognomies with all
+kinds of horrible features. And, too, the trough looked dirty.
+
+If it happens to me, said Walter, I'll take sheep with me; and Femke
+can card the wool.
+
+The artist ought to admit that even this third picture is inadequate
+to inspire a proper disgust for prodigality.
+
+And the fourth one? No better.
+
+The old gentleman is excessively friendly. We are again in the
+colonnade, where the camels have just waited so patiently. One of the
+slaves clasps his hands and looks toward heaven--because he's glad,
+of course, that little Walter has come back.
+
+He? The real Walter? Returned home, and friendly received in his high
+rank of a "has-been" and "recovered" prodigal? Oh, no!
+
+And that fatted calf! In direct opposition to the custom that was
+familiar to Walter! It worried the boy. Juffrouw Pieterse never
+slaughtered anything. She ran a weekly account with Keesje's father;
+and even a roast was a rarity.
+
+There was no prospect of a fatted calf, whether he became a prodigal
+or not. But that didn't keep the rank of a prodigal from being higher
+than that of a stupid boy who didn't know how to handle money.
+
+He was encouraged to think that he was indebted to his friendly
+enemy, Juffrouw Laps, for something. She always cited the Bible,
+and spoke continually of feeding swine. Walter wanted to answer:
+"That's very nice, Juffrouw Laps, but can't it be sheep this time?"
+
+He knew very well that she had never had any passion for carding,
+and consequently was not interested in that blue muffler, which would
+be so becoming to Femke's favorite sheep.
+
+But she assured him that he was a prodigal; and that was enough.
+
+"That's what I've always said!" replied Juffrouw Pieterse. "What
+does he do but squander his mother's money? If that man wants snuff,
+let him buy it. The king pays him. I have to work too hard for my
+money. Don't I, Stoffel?"
+
+"Yes, mother; but it's only childishness in Walter!"
+
+"Childishness! That's what I call it."
+
+"No it isn't!" cried the pious Laps. "He's on the straight road to
+the trough of Luke 15. He will eat husks! Do you think the Master
+doesn't carry out his parables? Just send him to me. The pastors are
+to blame for it. They don't explain the Bible. Send him to me."
+
+"If I only knew how he gets such things into his head!"
+
+"You don't know? It's arrogance!"
+
+She spoke the truth.
+
+"Arrogance, Arrogance pure and simple--just as it was in Belshazzar,
+or Sennacherib, or Nebuchadnezzar."
+
+How thankful Walter was! If at this moment he had had a letter to
+write--preferably to Femke--he would have boasted of being as wicked
+as three old kings put together.
+
+"Arrogance!" repeated Juffrouw Laps. "Gold on top, iron in the middle,
+and feet of clay. The Master will overthrow him. Send him to me."
+
+This invitation to turn over the royal villain to her for religious
+instruction was repeated so often that it was necessary to give her
+an answer.
+
+"But, dear Juffrouw, the boy don't want to. He's stubborn; and what
+can one do with such a child?"
+
+Walter knew that his mother was not quite truthful; but, after his
+former experience with his friendly enemy, he found it desirable to
+keep quiet. When pressed, however, for an explanation he said:
+
+"The man wanted snuff, and nobody would give him any; so I----"
+
+Juffrouw Laps knew enough. Walter was as good as her prisoner: she
+now knew exactly how to take his fortifications, if they could be
+taken at all.
+
+"If he doesn't want to come to me, don't compel him," she said sweetly
+on leaving. "To force him won't do any good. Let him exercise his own
+pleasure. I'm afraid you pick at the child too much, anyway. What an
+awful fuss we've made over a stiver!"
+
+"That's what I say, too," replied the mother. "It looks as if we
+begrudged him the money! We could have spared another stiver, and we
+wouldn't have missed it, would we, Stoffel?"
+
+"Yes, mother, but it's time for Walter----"
+
+"Goodness, what a hullaballoo to raise about a few pinches of
+snuff! The Master will repay it seven times seventy times. Whatever
+ye have done to the least of my brothers----"
+
+With this consoling passage on her lips she took her leave of the
+astonished family.
+
+Yes, it wasn't so easy to see through Juffrouw Laps!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+In his efforts to reconcile the various conflicting authorities
+contesting for supremacy in his soul, Walter threw himself into a
+severe spell of blues. He was not conscious of the contrast between
+the world of his high-flown fancy and the earthy environment of his
+home-life. The sympathetic care which he should have received after
+his illness had not fallen to his lot.
+
+He felt dejected.
+
+"Femke!" he thought; and he longed for her fresh healthy face,
+for her pure, unselfish glance, for her friendly smile. The Fancy
+that had led him away to the stars in search of his misty sister had
+got lodged on that girl of the Amsterdam lowlands, Femke--with her
+unpoetical length, breadth, thickness, and weight.
+
+"I am going to see her," he cried. "I will! And if Mrs. Claus asks
+me about worms a dozen times, it's all the same to me; I am going to
+see her!"
+
+Walter reached the house and knocked. "Come in!" someone called. This
+was a little sudden, for it took some time to get hold of the
+latch. But Walter did it. Perhaps he was thinking of Missolonghi.
+
+The Turks that he saw now were not revolting in appearance. They were
+unarmed and did not murder a single baby.
+
+But--Femke was not in the party.
+
+Mrs. Claus was at the wash-tub, while Father Jansen was quietly
+smoking.
+
+"Is that you, young man? Very nice! That's the young man who gave
+Femke the picture, you remember, father?"
+
+The father nodded to him kindly and smoked away, without manifesting
+any special Godliness.
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw, I wanted to----"
+
+"Very nice of you! Won't you have a slice of bread and butter? And how
+is your mother? Is she better now? She was sick, wasn't she? That's
+a good boy, father. Femke said so. Is your mother better again? It
+was fever, wasn't it? or apoplexy--or what was it then?"
+
+"Oh, no! Juffrouw."
+
+"You mustn't call me Juffrouw. I am only a wash-woman. Everyone must
+stay in his own class, mustn't he, father? Well, it's all the better;
+I thought she had been sick. It must have been somebody else. One
+has so much to think of. Do you like cheese?"
+
+The good woman prepared a slice of bread and butter, with cheese. If
+Trudie could have seen it, she would have fainted. In the "citizen's
+class," such and such a sub-class, according to Pennewip, is found
+a certain scantiness that does not obtain in the common laboring
+class. In the matter of eating, laborers, who do not invest their
+money in Geneva, are not troubled so much by "good form" as people
+who give their children French names.
+
+Walter had never seen such a slice of bread. He didn't know whether he
+ought to bite through the width, or the thickness. The bit of cheese
+gave him his cue.
+
+He liked Mrs. Claus much better this time. And Father Jansen, too;
+even if he wasn't like Walter had imagined him to be.
+
+He had never conceived a preacher as being anything else but a very
+supernatural and spiritual and celestial sort of person. Father Jansen
+didn't seem to be that kind of a man at all.
+
+He visited the sheep of his fold, especially the plain people, not
+to make a display of beneficence--for he had nothing, but because he
+was happiest among simple people. He was fond of bread and butter of
+the Mrs. Claus variety. For the rest, he said mass, preached about
+sin, catechised, confirmed, absolved, and did whatever needed to be
+done. He performed the functions of his office, and did not think
+it at all strange that he should have gone into the church, while
+his brother in Nordbrabant succeeded to the business of his father,
+who was a farrier and inn-keeper.
+
+"And what are you going to be?" he asked Walter; "for everybody in the
+world must be something. Wouldn't you like to be a bookbinder? That's
+a good trade."
+
+"I was--I was in business, M'neer; and I'm going back to business."
+
+"That's good, my boy. You may get rich. Especially here in Amsterdam;
+for Amsterdam is a commercial city."
+
+Walter wanted to add: "The greatest commercial city of Europe." But
+he was abashed by the--worldliness of Father Jansen's talk. He didn't
+find it disagreeable: he was merely surprised at it.
+
+"A boy like you ought to eat a lot. You look pale. My brother can bend
+a horseshoe. What do you say to that? Have you ever eaten our Brabant
+bread? Ham isn't bad, either. A person that doesn't eat enough gets
+weak. I always eat two slices of bread and butter whenever I'm here
+at Mrs. Claus's; but I'm not nearly so strong as my brother. You
+ought to see the Vucht fair. That's a great time."
+
+Walter was more than surprised to hear such talk from a preacher: he
+was almost pleased. He had never received such charming messages from
+heaven. Of course they came from heaven, those friendly words uttered
+in Brabant dialect between the puffs of Father Jansen's pipe. This
+man in a priest's coat chattered away as if there were no such thing
+in the world as God, Grace, and Hell--especially the latter. He was
+as happy as a child in telling about the strength of his brother,
+the horseshoer. It was his business to lead the world to eternal
+happiness; and he liked thick slices of bread and butter with cheese.
+
+Walter had never had religious things opened up to him so
+delightfully. He felt encouraged to speak:
+
+"M'neer, I would like to know who God is!"
+
+Father Jansen started, and looked at Walter as if he hadn't clearly
+understood the question.
+
+"Yes--that's very praiseworthy in you. You must----"
+
+"But, father," cried Mrs. Claus, "the child isn't in the church! Are
+you?"--to Walter.
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw, I have been confirmed."
+
+"To be sure, to be sure, but----"
+
+"On the Noordermarkt!"
+
+"Well, you see he's in the church all right."
+
+The good woman didn't have the heart--or else she had too much
+heart--to tell the father that it wasn't the right church.
+
+"Whoever wants to get acquainted with God," said Father Jansen,
+"must study diligently."
+
+"To be sure," said Mrs. Claus, "the articles of faith. You ought to
+hear my Femke repeat them. It's a pleasure, isn't it, father? She's
+my only child, but--she's a girl worth having!"
+
+"Yes, Femke is an excellent girl. I don't have any trouble with her."
+
+The father spoke in a business-like manner; and he meant it that
+way. The spots on Femke's soul were easily removed. He praised Femke
+as a cook would praise a kitchen-pot.
+
+Father Jansen had still more praise for Femke: she had patched his
+drawers so nicely.
+
+Oh, Fancy!
+
+The mention of this fact did not touch Walter's Êsthetic feelings. With
+him there were other considerations. Fancy was used to seeing
+everything nude--fathers, humanity--so there was no difficulty here.
+
+Walter was sixteen years old, already a little man--why must Femke
+patch drawers for this father!
+
+"Yes," said the mother. "Femke is clever at patching. If you've got
+anything else that needs mending, just send it over."
+
+Walter was warm. If it had been collars, socks, waistcoats, or--well,
+if it had to be something questionable--if it had only been trousers!
+
+"Just send it over, and if Femke isn't here----"
+
+"Where is she going to be?" thought Walter.
+
+"Then I will attend to it myself. I can do it neatly."
+
+Thank God! Dear, good, magnificent Mrs. Claus! Do it, do it yourself,
+and leave Femke where she is.
+
+But--where was she?
+
+Thus Walter's thoughts; but what did he say?--the hypocrite, the
+budding man.
+
+"Yes, indeed, Mrs. Claus, I had almost forgotten to ask where your
+daughter Femke is."
+
+"Femke? She's at my niece's, where the girl is sick. You know we're
+of good family. Femke is looking after my niece's children."
+
+Walter didn't have the courage to ask where this niece lived, so he
+assumed a look of contentment.
+
+After much waiting and twisting and turning on his chair, Walter
+finally left the house with Father Jansen. He had not yet learned
+how to end a visit: some people never learn it.
+
+"Don't you want to do me a favor?" said the good man. "Then walk on
+my right side. I'm deaf here"--pointing to his left ear.
+
+"I will tell you how it happened. When I was a little boy--are you
+a good climber?"
+
+"No, M'neer!"
+
+"Well, I am! In the whole of Vucht there wasn't a boy who could
+climb as well as I could. Do you know what I did once? I climbed up
+and slipped a flower-pot from a third-story window. And--my priest
+wasn't in a good humor at all! He didn't want to accept me till I had
+returned that flower-pot; and then I had to go and beg the old woman's
+pardon. And she herself went to the priest to intercede for me. Then
+he accepted me. But I got twenty 'confiteors'--oh, he was severe!
+
+"But I was going to tell you why I'm deaf in the left ear.
+
+"In one of the seminaries was a student--he's a canonicus in the Rhine
+country, and will get to be a cardinal, perhaps pope, for--he was
+very sly! I will tell you, his name was--Rake; but, you understand,
+his name was really something else. This Rake was a mean rascal; but he
+was never punished, because he was careful. See if he doesn't get to be
+a cardinal, or pope! You ought to hear him quote from the Vulgate. He
+could rattle away for three hours and never made a mistake." * * *
+
+"Are you perfectly crazy, boy, or what is the matter with you? Walking
+with a priest! What in the name of the Lord are you thinking about? Go
+in the house--quick! Jesu, what troubles I have with that child!"
+
+With these words Juffrouw Pieterse broke off Walter's acquaintance
+with Father Jansen for this time.
+
+The way that the father and Walter had taken led them directly by
+Walter's home. Juffrouw Pieterse, who was haggling with a Jew over the
+price of a basket of potatoes, narrowly escaped a stroke of apoplexy
+when she saw them together.
+
+"With a priest!--Stoffel! Come down quick--that boy is walking with
+a priest!"
+
+Tears rose in Walter's eyes. He had found Father Jansen a good man,
+and was grieved that that gentleman should meet with such a reception.
+
+It is to be hoped that those rude words were received by his left
+ear. In fact, this seemed to be the case, for when Walter said that
+he was at home now and that his mother was calling him, Father Jansen
+answered kindly:
+
+"So? You live there? Then I will tell you the next time why I am so
+deaf in my left ear--entirely deaf, you understand!"
+
+Thank God, Walter thought, and wiped away his tears. In his eyes his
+mother had committed a sin so grave that about fifty "confiteors"
+would be necessary for its expiation.
+
+"Oh, yes. I was going to tell you----"
+
+With these words Father Jansen turned around again. He continued:
+"The flower-pot of the old lady, Juffrouw Dungelaar, you know--it
+wasn't for the flowers, you understand, nor for the pot, but only
+because I could climb so well. Otherwise--one mustn't take anything
+away, even if it is so high up. Adieu, young man!"
+
+After giving Juffrouw Pieterse a friendly greeting that she did not
+deserve, the man continued on his way.
+
+Stoffel said that to walk with a priest was "simply preposterous."
+
+"As if he were crazy!" said Juffrouw Pieterse.
+
+"Yes," agreed Stoffel, "but it's because he has nothing to do but
+loaf around. If that keeps up, he will never amount to anything."
+
+True, Walter was loafing around; but he was not idle. His activities
+brought nothing palpable to light, still he was building up the inner
+life in a manner of which Stoffel had no idea.
+
+"Of course!" said the mother. "He must have work. If he were only
+willing to be a compositor! or an apprentice in the shoe-business. To
+make shoes--that he shall never do."
+
+"This running with priests comes only from idleness, mother. Do I
+run with priests? Never. Why not? Because I have to go to my school
+every day!"
+
+"Yes, Stoffel, you go to your school every day."
+
+"Besides, there are good priests. There was Luther, for instance. He
+was a sort of priest. What did he do?"
+
+"Yes, I know. He reformed the people."
+
+"He made them Lutherans, mother; but that's almost the same thing. One
+mustn't be narrow-minded."
+
+"That's what I say, Stoffel, people ought not to be so
+narrow-minded. What difference does it make what a person's religion
+is, just so he's upright, and not a Roman Catholic!"
+
+When Walter told Father Jansen that he "was in business," and that
+he was "going back to business," he spoke better than he himself
+knew. He did go back to business.
+
+Through a leather-dealer, who, speaking commercially, was in close
+touch with shoes that came from Paris, Walter got a position with a
+firm whose "responsibility" was somewhat less apocryphal than that of
+Messrs. Motto, Business & Co. He was to begin his new apprenticeship
+in the offices of Messrs. Ouwetyd & Kopperlith, a firm of world-wide
+reputation.
+
+However, before he was to enter upon his new duties, all sorts of
+things were destined to happen, with the tendency to make Walter
+appear as a "hero of romance," which he wasn't at all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+It was Thursday. Stoffel came home with the important news that the
+king--I don't know what king--had arrived in the city unexpectedly
+and would visit the theatre that evening. Everything and everybody
+was in a commotion; for in republican countries much importance is
+given to pomp and title.
+
+This time curiosity was more wrought up than usual. Many foreign
+princes, including an emperor, were visiting the king; and these
+distinguished personages would follow the court to Amsterdam, coming
+from The Hague, Utrecht and Haarlem. To put it tamely, it was to be
+a great occasion.
+
+That republican populace was to get to see the countenance and
+coat-tails not only of their tyrant, but also the countenances and
+coat-tails of many other tyrants, not to mention female tyrants.
+
+The old doughnut women on the "Dam," which the city rented to them as
+a market-place, were threatening to bring suit against the city. They
+felt that it was hard to have to pay rent for the fresh air, day after
+day, with the prospect of selling a few doughnuts to the youth of
+the street, and now be run out because his majesty wanted to exhibit
+himself to the people from the balcony of the old City Hall.
+
+Why shouldn't the old women be seen at their accustomed places? Must
+the doughnut industry be carried on secretly? Was it for fear of
+imitations and unprincely competition? Or was it to keep the old
+women from seeing the king?
+
+At any rate, the whole kit of them had to leave. At most, they could
+only mix with the crowd incognito, and afterwards might join in
+the prearranged "Long live the King!" or somebody else, as the case
+might be.
+
+It is really remarkable that princes die. Seemingly the "vivats"
+are of no avail.
+
+The crowd was especially large, on account of the many majesties and
+highnesses who had gathered about the tyrant.
+
+Among the number was the Prince of Caramania, who had especial claims
+upon the sympathy of the people, so all the newspapers said. One of
+his ancestors had been a captain in the service of the state and had,
+therefore, spilt his blood for the freedom of the Netherlands.
+
+This blood, and perhaps the freedom as well, was newspaper
+arabesque. It was certain, however, that the prince wore a green
+coat with gold frogs; and upon his head he had a big plume. It was,
+therefore, quite proper for the crowd to cry occasionally "Long live
+the Prince of Caramania!"
+
+Among the eminent gentlemen was a certain duke, who, by reason of his
+virtues, had got himself banished from his country. The man was thrifty
+and economical, though without neglecting himself. Nevertheless,
+the rabble had dethroned him and sent him across the border with a
+bushel of diamonds. Of these diamonds he was now to display a few
+dozen in the shape of coat-buttons and the like. The newspapers gave
+the crowd their cue accordingly. They were to cry: "Long live the
+Duke with his diamonds!"
+
+Princess Erika was the niece of the king, and was to marry the
+crown-prince of a great empire, which was indebted to the Netherlands
+for its prominence. The newspapers gave the assurance that this empire
+would pay off the national debt of the Netherlands if the people
+would only put enough enthusiasm into a "Long live Princess Erika!"
+
+The old Countess-palatine of Aetolia was descended directly from
+a certain knight who treated his hostlers like princes. In this
+case it was not inappropriate for a republican populace to ask for
+a prolongation of her ladyship's life. The cry was: "Long live the
+Countess-palatine of Aetolia!"
+
+The Grand-duke of Ysland was the handsome grandson of a shopman. His
+merits would fill three columns of fine print. The man was a master
+of the type-case himself, and by exerting himself could even set up
+his own name. The newspapers said that having safely passed an ocean
+of pitfalls, he had now perfected himself as the brother-in-law of
+a demi-god. Therefore, whoever had the interest of his country at
+heart could not afford to fail to bellow at the top of his voice:
+"Long live the Grand-duke of Ysland!"
+
+There were still more potentates and ladies of quality who had honored
+Amsterdam with a visit. They had heard that the city was la VÈnise
+du Nord, that it was tres interessant, tres interessant! etc.
+
+And the Holland herrings! DÈlicieux! Unfortunately the Netherlanders
+didn't know how to cook them; they must be baked.
+
+And the Holland school of painting! Rambr‡nn--magnifique!
+
+There were still other good things in Holland, as their highnesses
+testified with patronizing kindness.
+
+"Il parait qu'un certain WondËle a Ècrit des choses, des choses--mais
+des choses--passablement bien!"
+
+And the dikes! And the Katwyk sluice--gigantesque!
+
+Whatever spare time they might have after making cheese and cooking
+herrings, the Holland people liked to devote to fighting the
+elements. After skating and racing this was the favorite recreation
+of the nation.
+
+I can assure the reader that the aristocratic party took their
+departure thoroughly satisfied with our country. The only person who
+received quite a different impression--but I will not anticipate the
+feelings of our hero. Even a writer has his duties.
+
+The first evening everything was to be illuminated. Two hundred
+and fifty thousand candles were to proclaim the enthusiasm of the
+people. Two hundred and fifty thousand fiery tongues were to cry:
+"Hosanna! Blessed be he who comes in the name of----" In whose
+name? Hosanna for whom? For what?
+
+Well, that was a matter of indifference to the people. They knew
+that there was something doing, that there was a crowd, and that
+was enough. People are somewhat like children, who amuse themselves
+immensely in the confusion of a "moving," of a death, or of anything
+that causes commotion and excitement.
+
+Walter had got permission to see the illumination. Unconsciously
+he assumed that stupid expression which is obligatory on such
+occasions. He listened to the conversation of those about him.
+
+"That's what I call illuminating! Nine candles for such a big house!"
+
+"Twelve!" cried another.
+
+"No, nine."
+
+"Twelve!"
+
+"Nine!"
+
+"Three--three--three--and three. Look there are twelve, or I can't
+count."
+
+"No, the three above don't count. That story is rented. I know it."
+
+"Well--if you mean it that way. I only said that four times three
+are twelve. What do you say, Hannes?"
+
+Hannes found the calculation correct.
+
+"How long will the candles burn?"
+
+"Till about one o'clock, I suppose."
+
+"I don't believe it!"
+
+"Well, I do!"
+
+"But I don't!----"
+
+"Have you been in the Sukkelgracht?"
+
+"Oh, it isn't pretty there."
+
+"You think so? Prettier than here."
+
+"Oh, no!"
+
+"Yes, it is!----"
+
+"Look there; there's a verse."
+
+"Yes, a verse. Can you read it?"
+
+"Certainly! Let me see, what is it?"
+
+"I can read it, too."
+
+"It's about 'illustrious blood'----"
+
+"Yes, and 'our country,' and 'dedicated to honor and virtue.'"
+
+"And 'his illustrious blood'----"
+
+"No, there it stands--'torn from the barbarians'----"
+
+"That comes later. 'Illustrious blood'----"
+
+"Of Holland's hero----"
+
+"Welcome, hero!"
+
+"I wonder if the king looks at the candles. Do you suppose he reads
+such verses and copies them?"
+
+"Oh, he has his ministers for that."
+
+"Or generals. He has seen or read about lots of nice things."
+
+"As nice as here?"
+
+"Why, of course!"
+
+"I don't believe it."
+
+"Well, I do."
+
+"Do you know what I think? He likes to look at the lights too."
+
+"You think so?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"No, you don't believe that."
+
+"Don't crowd so!"
+
+"I can't help it. They're crowding me."
+
+"The people are pushing and shoving as if they were crazy."
+
+"Did you ever see the like? You know what I think? Kalver Street
+ought to be as wide again as it is."
+
+"Yes, as wide again. The street's too narrow."
+
+"That's why everybody's scroudging so."
+
+There was much truth in this. Pressure was high. People were mashed
+and squeezed together. Those who, by reason of a lack of avoirdupois,
+were less firmly attached to the ground, were lifted bodily. Walter
+hung suspended in mid-air and looked over the heads of men much taller
+than he.
+
+"Are you walking on stilts?" asked a big fat woman, whose hips had
+come into collision with Walter's knees. "Well, that's something."
+
+The pressure was increasing. It seemed that the fat woman would soon
+have Walter on her shoulder, like a gun; while Walter was thinking
+that soon he would be roaming over the country like a knight. No one
+was looking at the candles now. People were finding their amusement
+in crowding and being crowded.
+
+No, Kalver Street ought not to be widened. For, properly understood,
+this crowding and pushing and shoving was the nicest part of the
+whole business.
+
+How tedious it would have been quietly to watch those two hundred
+and fifty thousand candles from some comfortable position.
+
+Our little man lay on the heads and shoulders of his brothers. Like
+some aspirants to a throne, he threw himself upon the masses. But he
+was beginning to feel generally uncomfortable. He wanted to hold on
+fast to something, or somebody--to somebody's ears, or nose. That,
+however, did not suit the masses. They didn't mind being squeezed;
+but they didn't like to be held on to.
+
+Crash!
+
+Don't let the reader be alarmed. Walter had not burst under the strain;
+but the pressure of the crowd had broken in the double doors of a
+cafÈ! The irruption was terrible. The way the crowd streamed in might
+be compared to the flow of molten lava. Walter described a parabolic
+curve and landed on a table, without suffering any damage.
+
+"Walter Pieterse!" cried the astonished party sitting around the table.
+
+"Have you hurt yourself, Walter?"
+
+No, he hadn't hurt himself; but he was rigid with surprise. Firstly,
+over his ascent; secondly, over his aÎrial journey; then over his
+descent among all kinds of glassware; and, finally--and that was not
+the least surprising thing--he was surprised to find himself all at
+once in the bosom of the Holsma family.
+
+It was Sietske who asked him if he was hurt.
+
+All the glasses, both great and small, were broken; but Walter was
+still in one piece. Uncle Sybrand helped him to his feet. It wasn't
+easy, for the press was great. However, Walter's size facilitated
+matters.
+
+The proprietor couldn't reach the scene of action, but he was able
+to make his voice heard to the effect that everything broken must be
+paid for. From other tables came the noise of more breaking glass. The
+man was desperate. He cursed kings and masses indiscriminately.
+
+"One bottle of wine, three lemonades, six glasses!" cried Holsma,
+assuming the responsibility for Walter's unintentional work of
+destruction.
+
+Uncle Sybrand was holding up the money to pay for everything.
+
+"Oh, M'neer, I'm afraid to go home after this," cried Walter. "How
+can I pay for that? And my mother----"
+
+In the noise and jumble Holsma did not understand; but Sietske
+understood.
+
+"Sh!" she whispered. "Papa will pay for it all. Besides, I have money;
+and William, too; and Hermann. Just be quiet."
+
+Walter still did not understand. When, under the protection of the
+Holsmas, he was safe on the outside again, and the entire party had
+escaped the mob by taking a side street, he reiterated that he did
+dare show his face to his mother and Stoffel.
+
+"It doesn't make any difference about the money," said Holsma. "I
+will attend to that. Why, boy, you're scared half to death. You're
+shaking. Come along home with us where you can rest a bit and quiet
+yourself."
+
+The distance, however, proved too short to have the desired quieting
+effect on Walter.
+
+"My mother will be angry when I come home late."
+
+Holsma told him that a messenger should be sent to his mother at once,
+so that she would know where he was.
+
+The doctor gave him a sedative and led him into a room adjoining that
+in which the Holsma family were sitting. Walter was to walk up and
+down the room till he felt better; but he soon got tired of this and
+did the very thing that he was not to do; he sat down on a sofa and
+fell asleep.
+
+Whether, in general, it is a good thing to keep in motion after a
+fright--that I do not know. Walter, on the contrary, always felt the
+need of sleep under such circumstances; and this remedy, with which
+nature provided him, usually restored his mental equilibrium. Perhaps,
+after all, it wasn't real sleep: he merely dreamed.
+
+Again he was lifted up, higher and higher, borne by strong hands. A
+man bit him in the hand. The fact was he had scratched his hand on
+a refractory horsehair, which had become tired of acting as stuffing
+for a sofa-pillow.
+
+An angry woman assailed him with abuse. Stupid? Not stupid? We, the
+masses? She let him fall. But he fell in Sietske's lap; and there
+wasn't a single sliver of glassware.
+
+He was happy--but the horsehair scratched him again. Then he heard
+a voice. Was he still dreaming? Yes, dreaming again of soaring and
+falling. There was Femke.
+
+Of course there had to be something about her in his dream, and about
+bleaching the clothes. Father Jansen was there, too, exhibiting to
+the stars the particular garment that Femke had patched. Orion and
+the Great Bear admired this specimen of her handiwork. Walter did not.
+
+"Did you do it yourself?" he heard Sietske asking in the next room. "Or
+couldn't you get through the crowd?"
+
+"No, it was impossible to get through such a mob. I turned it over
+to the man with the peddler's wagon."
+
+What was that? Walter sat up. Father Jansen was gone; Orion, too;
+and the clouds, and the "masses"; but--that voice!
+
+He heard it again.
+
+"I know him very well--oh, so well! He's a good boy." This he heard
+Femke say!
+
+He jumped up and ran into the room where the Holsmas were. He saw
+a triangular piece of a woman's dress disappear through the door;
+then the door closed.
+
+He didn't have the courage--or was something else beside courage
+necessary to ask, "Is that Femke?"
+
+On his way home that evening Walter did not suffer in the least
+from the sensation of being borne through the air; or from anything
+similar. He was on the earth, very much on the earth. He felt lowly.
+
+If he had only seen that bit of Femke's dress somewhere else, and
+not at the Holsmas--not in that swell family; not in the company
+of Sietske, who had so much money in her "savings-bank," nor in the
+presence of the vain William, who was studying Latin!
+
+He was brave enough to feel ashamed of himself; and that's all I can
+say in his favor.
+
+Let us now look at things from the point of view of Juffrouw
+Pieterse. That lady was in the clouds. She was hoping that the
+messenger who had brought her news of Walter had not been able to
+find her flat at once. The idea of someone from Dr. Holsma's asking
+for her through the neighborhood was decidedly pleasant. The longer
+he might have had to inquire for her the better!
+
+"Of course he was at the grocer's," she said. "Such messengers
+never know where they have to go. Of course he told that the 'young
+gentleman' was staying at Dr. Holsma's! And such a man always
+tattles; such people don't do anything but tattle. But, as far as
+I'm concerned, everybody can know it. I only mean that such people
+like to tattle. But--say, Walter, how did it happen that you went
+with the family? You're a nice rascal. Stoffel, what do you say?"
+
+Stoffel made a serious face--as much as to say: "Hm! I'll have to
+think over it. He's been up to something."
+
+"I met the Holsma family in Kalver Street," Walter said. He told
+the truth; he had met the family in Kalver Street. But why didn't he
+tell anything about the extraordinary circumstances under which he
+met them? Ah--there's the rub!
+
+"Your back is so sticky!" complained Pietro, whose care it was to
+look after the washing.
+
+The family rubbed, and felt, and smelt; and then they declared
+unanimously that Walter's back had been guilty of absorbing all kinds
+of sticky gases and liquids.
+
+"Really, it smells like lemon," said Trudie.
+
+"And like wine!"
+
+"And it's just coated with sugar. Boy, where have you been? Don't
+you have any sense of shame? To go to visit such swell people with
+lemon and sugar on your back! It's a disgrace, a disgrace."
+
+"There was such a crowd on the street."
+
+"That don't explain the wine on your back--nor the lemon--nor the
+sugar. What say you, Trudie?"
+
+There was complete unanimity. Timid, as usual, Walter didn't have the
+courage to tell everything. Nor would this have done any good. The
+understanding of the Pieterse family was like a rusty lock that no key
+will open. Walter knew this, and remembering former sad experiences,
+allowed the storm to rage above his head. Unfortunately he, too,
+in a sense, was rusty. His nobility of character had suffered; he
+had been guilty of cowardice.
+
+He felt it. No minister could pray it away. Not even God himself
+could revoke it. Everyone must act according to his conviction,
+Mevrouw Holsma had said. He had not done this.
+
+A dog would have kissed the hem of Femke's garment, meeting her after
+such a long separation. For it was she. Certainly it was Femke--or----
+
+Oh, he was hunting for or's!
+
+Could it have been somebody else? It must have been somebody else. How
+could Femke be at Dr. Holsma's?
+
+No, no, it was she! Didn't she say that she knew me? Didn't she speak
+with the same voice that I heard when she called me a dear boy and
+gave me the kiss at the bridge?
+
+She didn't know then what a coward I am! She wouldn't deny me and
+betray me. She would say to everybody: That is Walter, my little
+friend that I kissed that time, because he was so brave in fighting
+off those boys!
+
+And I? Oh, help me God!
+
+No, God has nothing to do with it. I am a coward. I can't live
+this way.
+
+He thought of suicide; and in this mood he spent that Thursday
+night. He arose Friday morning with the firm determination to put an
+end to his unworthy existence.
+
+Fortunately, just after breakfast he was put to work on a job that
+is calculated to reconcile one with life.
+
+He had been tried and convicted, the verdict being unanimous. The
+penalty was that he should wash his jacket till it was clean. He
+entered upon the task with such enthusiasm that in an hour he was
+running to his mother crying triumphantly:
+
+"Look, mother! You can't see a trace of it now!"
+
+This little conquest dispelled all the clouds that had darkened
+his life.
+
+There are plenty of people who would gladly fall into a barrel of
+lemonade if they only understood the salutary effects of cleaning
+a coat.
+
+The poor unfortunate who has never washed his own clothes does not
+know what life is.
+
+I will ask her pardon, thought Walter; and he pictured it all
+to himself, wondering whether it would do for him to fall at her
+feet at Holsma's, in the presence of the one who had delivered the
+message. Finally, however, he quieted himself with the thought that
+Femke would probably not be at the doctor's very long. He hoped to be
+able then to settle the matter quietly, when only the two concerned
+were present. This was not courageous, to be sure; but his punishment
+was already on the way.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+The events of an eventful Friday were at an end, as it seemed; and
+Walter prepared to climb into the narrow bedstead, which he shared with
+his brother Laurens. He was now in a tranquil frame of mind. He didn't
+even have any desire to romp with Laurens, who, without laying claim to
+geometrical knowledge, usually managed to find the diagonal of the bed.
+
+It was Walter's intention to think over recent events again. He wished
+to busy himself with others; he was tired of himself--at least he
+thought so for a moment.
+
+There was a prince, who distributed money among the people. Oh,
+if I were only a prince!
+
+That wasn't a bad thought. Under the same circumstances, most people
+would have thought: Oh, if I could only have got some of the money!
+
+The countess-palatine from--where from? Well it makes no
+difference. She was in the museum and the papers said she was gracious,
+very gracious.
+
+I would do it too, thought Walter, if I were a countess-palatine. What
+sort of a profession is that?
+
+The king had given audiences--and a dinner--and had said--well, the
+usual things. But for Walter it was new and interesting. The welfare of
+the city seemed to lie heavily on his majesty's heart. It lay heavily
+on Walter's heart, too; but that did not prevent Walter from admiring
+this peculiarity of the king. In Africa he would do the same thing.
+
+No, away with Africa!
+
+He threw off his left stocking so violently that it curled around
+the leg of the chair like a dying earthworm.
+
+What strange things he had heard of Princess Erika! It was said that
+she was to have married a grand-duke, but rejected him.
+
+The middle classes were delighted with this news; though not knowing
+but that it might merely have been stubbornness on the part of the
+princess.
+
+She was of such a strange nature that she did not know how to behave
+herself in her high position.
+
+Walter slipped off his other stocking, finding fault with the princess
+for disregarding the usual customs and conventions. Hm! He wondered
+if she would like to change places with him, and let him be Prince
+Erich--and she----
+
+He wondered if she too wore an ugly nightcap. But--no! Princesses
+would wear caps of diamonds.
+
+Princess Erika!
+
+Walter blew out the light--no, he was on the point of blowing it
+out. He had selected one of the triangles that Laurens had described
+in the bed, when suddenly he became aware of a great tumult in the
+Pieterse home.
+
+Yes, somebody had rung violently three or four times and was still
+banging at the door. Fire?
+
+Hm! Could it be Princess Erika, he thought, who was coming to change
+places with him?
+
+Alas, it was only Juffrouw Laps; and she did not come to exchange.
+
+Well, what did she want then, so late in the evening?
+
+Walter pulled himself together and listened.
+
+The compartment where Walter and Laurens slept was a boxed-up
+arrangement over the sitting-room. Two of their sisters shared the
+space with them. From considerations of modesty, therefore, the boys
+always had to get sleepy a quarter of an hour before the young ladies.
+
+The writer is unable to say how much oxygen four young people need
+during eight hours without suffocating; but anyway there wasn't much
+room in this little nook.
+
+In another closet-affair there was a similar division, and here, too,
+the hour for retiring was determined by similar laws of modesty.
+
+The reader will now understand why a part of the family, the female
+part of course, was still in the sitting-room when Walter imagined
+that Princess Erika had come to exchange places with him.
+
+Juffrouw Laps, who had rushed up the steps like a crazy woman, burst
+into the room weeping and moaning and sobbing.
+
+The usual cries of, "What on earth is the matter?" "Lord 'a'
+mercy--what has happened?" were forthcoming. Walter noticed, too, that
+the customary glass of water was offered and drunk, and that proper
+efforts were being made to get the unhappy one to "calm herself."
+
+Juffrouw Laps began her story with the positive assurance that it
+was impossible for her to utter a word.
+
+It seemed, therefore, that the affair was something important. Walter
+pulled on one of his stockings and prepared to listen.
+
+"I swear, Juffrouw Pieterse, by the omnipotent God, that I'm so
+frightened and excited that I can't talk."
+
+"Goodness!"
+
+"Where are your children? In bed? Not all of them, I hope. Really,
+I can't speak. Give me another glass of water, Trudie. Listen, how
+my teeth are chattering. That comes from fright, doesn't it? I'm in
+a tremble all over. Thank you, Trudie. Where's--Stoffel?"
+
+"He's undressing," said Juffrouw Pieterse. "He goes to bed before
+me and Pietro. Mina makes so much noise, you know; and Trudie must
+stay with the boys to keep them from fighting. That's why I sleep
+with Pietro, you see. Stoffel undresses himself, and then he draws
+the curtain when he hears us on the steps. But why----"
+
+"How that concerns me, you mean? To be sure. I'm just beside myself
+from fright! And is--Laurens in bed too?"
+
+"Of course! A long time already. He has to go to the printing-house
+early."
+
+"All in bed! And I--I run through the streets, wretched, crazy,
+and don't know what to do. Is everybody in bed?--everybody?"
+
+"But what has happened?"
+
+"I'm going to tell you, Juffrouw Pieterse. Oh, if you only knew how
+frightened I am!"
+
+Consideration of acoustics now led Walter to put on his other stocking.
+
+"You know, Juffrouw Pieterse, that of late so much stealing has been
+going on."
+
+"Yes, but----"
+
+"And burglary and murder! And the police can't catch anybody. You know
+the old woman and the servant-girl who were murdered in Lommer Street."
+
+"But three are already behind the bars for it. What more do you want?"
+
+"That's all right; the murderers are running around scot-free. They've
+locked up three fellows just to keep the people from thinking too
+much. They don't want anybody to ask, 'What are the police for?' You
+see what I mean? I tell you that such a low-down rascal, who commits
+a murder and steals lots of money, cannot hide his bloody clothes;
+nor the money, either. He's not used to having so much money. All
+the neighbors know his coat and breeches; and such a man hasn't any
+trunk where he can hide his things. He doesn't know how to manage with
+drafts and notes; and he don't know enough to get away to a foreign
+country. As for friends to help him get rid of the stolen things,
+he hasn't any. I tell you, Juffrouw Pieterse, a murder or a robbery,
+when they don't catch the murderer right away--then some respectable
+person has done it, who has more clothes and boxes and presses and
+linen--and he has friends among bankers. A common fellow would stick
+a hundred thousand florins in the bread-box, and the children would
+find it when they went to slip a slice of bread and butter. What do
+you say, Trudie?"
+
+Trudie was not versed in criminal statistics and had never reflected
+on the matter. At least Walter heard no answer. Curiosity compelled
+him to draw on his trousers.
+
+"But," he heard his mother saying again, "what has happened to you?"
+
+"What has happened? I am beside myself. Don't you see how I'm
+trembling? The city is full of murderers!"
+
+"My goodness! How can I help it?"
+
+"You can't. But I am beside myself, and I want to ask your advice. Do
+they all go to bed so early?--Stoffel--and Laurens--all of them? Look,
+how I'm shaking. Do you suppose I dare go back to my room?"
+
+"Why not? Do you think you're going to be murdered?"
+
+"Yes. I do think it! The murderers of that old woman and of the
+servant-girl are still on the war-path. Yesterday at the illumination
+how many watches did they steal? And the police--what do they
+do? Nothing, nothing! Yes, they watch you to see if you beat a rug
+in the morning after ten o'clock. That's what the police do. They
+don't bother murderers."
+
+"What do you know about the murderers? It's your duty to report them
+if you know them."
+
+Walter put on his vest and wrapped his muffler around his neck.
+
+"What I know about them! They are besieging me in my own house. Isn't
+that pretty rough? I went out at noon to see the boat race on the
+Amstel; but there was nothing to see, because there was no wind. And
+such a crowd! All the kings were there, and the visiting princes
+and princesses, you know; and everybody stared at the carriages,
+and I did too. Not that I care anything about a king. Goodness,
+no! For he is only a worm in God's hand, and when the Master doesn't
+aid him--all is vanity, vanity. Dust and ashes--that's all. But I
+looked at the carriages, you know, and at the horses, and at the
+staring crowd. I thought to myself, I will fry the potatoes when I
+go home. They had been left over from dinner; and when there are any
+potatoes left over, you know, I always fry them for supper. There was
+a big crowd, and all were mad because there was no wind; for people
+are foolish about pleasure and never think of the Master. Worldly,
+worldly, they were--and the princes and princesses. I thought, well,
+it's no wonder that there's so much robbery and murder; for they try
+God's patience. I thought, God will punish you; He's only abiding
+His time. He always does it, Juffrouw Pieterse! A lady--the creature
+had red pimples on her face, and was older than you--what do you
+suppose she had on her head? A turban! She rode in a carriage with
+four horses. What do you think of that? She was playing with a fan;
+and, when a prince rode up to her carriage, she stuck out her hand
+and let the fan go up and down three times. And the prince did that
+way three times. Were they crazy, or not? What will the Master say
+to that? If He only doesn't send a pestilence on us!"
+
+"Yes, but the murderers--what did they do to you?"
+
+"Why, certainly--what they did? I am going to tell you. I'm still
+trembling. I had sliced my potatoes, put them on a saucer and set
+them away in the cupboard. Then I thought, I will fry them when I come
+home; for I didn't expect to stay long in the crowd, for I have been
+saved by grace and don't care for worldly things--ah, dear Juffrouw
+Pieterse, you must call Stoffel, so he can hear what has happened."
+
+Stoffel was already on his way down; and Walter was glad of it. Walter
+had heard the noise Stoffel was making putting on his clothes in the
+adjoining booth, and upon this he builded hopes that he too might
+be allowed to go down, where he could hear the exciting story better
+than was possible through the cracks in the floor. In the meantime he
+had completely dressed himself. The noises below told him of Stoffel's
+arrival in the sitting-room. He heard the usual greetings and Juffrouw
+Laps's solemn assurance that she was still in such a tremble that
+she couldn't say a word. Then he heard her ask immediately where
+Laurens was.
+
+Laurens? Well, he was asleep.
+
+That youth's absence seemed to trouble the visitor. She couldn't
+proceed. Was it really necessary for Laurens to be present?
+
+"What do you say, Stoffel? Isn't the city full of thieves and
+murderers?"
+
+Stoffel drew in his upper lip and tried to make the lower one touch
+his nose. Let the reader try the same; then he will know how Stoffel
+answered, and what his answer meant.
+
+Juffrouw Laps pretended to believe that he had said "yes."
+
+"Don't you see, Stoffel says so too! The city is full of thieves and
+murderers, and--a respectable person is afraid to go to bed alone
+any more. It's just that way."
+
+"But--Juffrouw!"
+
+"The police? Nonsense! What good do the police do, when people
+don't believe in God? That's the truth. Whoever doesn't do that is
+lost. Human help--I cannot understand at all why Laurens goes to bed so
+early. You surely know that so much sleep isn't good for anybody. What
+does the Bible say? Watch and pray! But--everyone according to his
+notion. I swear before God that I don't dare to go home alone and----"
+
+Walter's curiosity was at high tension. In order to hear better he
+was leaning over, supporting himself with the chair. The point of
+support was unsteady. The chair slipped and rattled across the floor,
+crashing into another piece of furniture.
+
+"Heaven and earth! What are they up to now," groaned the
+mother. "Laurens, is that you?"
+
+Walter peeped in, "It was me." The result was that he was soon in the
+midst of the interesting conversation that he had been trying to hear
+from above.
+
+His entrance took place under unfavorable circumstances. He was blamed
+for not having been undressed.
+
+"Do you always put on your nightcap before you undress?" cried
+the mother.
+
+The boy had actually forgotten to take off his nightcap. He was so
+ashamed that he felt he would like to fall through the floor. He
+would rather have neglected anything else.
+
+"And--what have you there?"
+
+Alas, our hero looked more ridiculous than anyone could look by simply
+putting on a nightcap. He had armed himself with an old rusty knife
+that his father had used in prehistoric times for cutting leather!
+
+During the whole of the Laps recital, which progressed so slowly,
+he had thought and hoped and intended--yes, he heard something that
+sounded like, "Where is Walter?" The speaker really did not say it--no,
+on the contrary, those were the very words she wished to avoid--still,
+he thought he heard her say them. On this Friday he had acted mean
+and cowardly; but he was still Walter.
+
+Murderers? Thieves? A lady in danger? What other answer could there
+be but: "I am here, I, Walter!"
+
+Oh, fate, why did you put that sword in his hand and let him forget
+to remove that nightcap? Why didn't you divide these two absurdities
+between Stoffel and Walter! Or why couldn't you put that feathery
+diadem on the head of the sleeping Laurens? It would have been all
+the same to him how he looked in his sleep.
+
+Walter was in a rage.
+
+And I am, too. Towards Femke his chivalry had remained in the
+background; and now it must burst forth at a doubtful call from
+Juffrouw Laps!
+
+In his anger he threw the weapon down violently and allowed it to
+rebound across the room. He slapped the nightcap on the table.
+
+No one would have thought that the little man could be so vehement. His
+mother, with her usual solicitousness, inquired into the condition
+of his mind, asking if he was only cracked, or downright crazy.
+
+"I tell you," said the visitor, "you ought not to worry that child
+so much."
+
+"Go to bed at once!" cried the mother.
+
+"Why can't you let the child stay here? But--oh, yes! I was going to
+tell you about my potatoes."
+
+Walter stayed. For this privilege he was indebted to the general
+curiosity.
+
+"Just imagine, when I came home about half past ten o'clock--I couldn't
+get away earlier on account of the crush, you know. Don't you know,
+I don't care for these big occasions. Well, when I got home--the city
+is full of thieves, murderers, and that must not be forgotten--well,
+my potatoes were--what do you think my potatoes were? They were--gone!"
+
+"Gone?"
+
+"Gone!"
+
+"All gone?"
+
+"All gone!"
+
+"Your potatoes--gone?"
+
+"My potatoes--all completely gone!"
+
+"But----"
+
+"I tell you those thieves and murderers did it. Who else could have
+done it? Thieves and murderers in my house! And I wanted to ask
+you--for I'm afraid in my room----"
+
+Walter's eyes fairly shone.
+
+"I wanted to ask, if perhaps--your son Stoffel----"
+
+Stoffel's face was a study, a curiosity. If the said thieves and
+murderers could have seen it they would have been greatly pleased,
+for it bore evidence of Stoffel's intention to leave them undisturbed
+in their work.
+
+"But, Juffrouw," he said, "haven't you a cat in your room?"
+
+"A cat? A cat to fight murderers with!"
+
+"No, Juffrouw, not to fight murderers; but a cat that might have
+eaten the potatoes."
+
+"I don't know anything about a cat. I only know that the city is
+full of low-down people when so many murders are committed and no one
+tries to catch the murderers. Not that I am anxious about my life--no,
+not at all. When the Master calls me I shall say, 'Let thy daughter
+go in peace; my eyes have seen thy glory.'"
+
+"But, woman, why didn't you look in your closet, and under the bed?"
+
+"I didn't want to do that, Juffrouw Pieterse! The Lord will take care
+of me--but one must not try the Lord's patience. I would not go in the
+closet, or look under the bed--not for everything in the world! For of
+course he's there, and that's why I wanted to ask if your son--Stoffel,
+or, if Stoffel doesn't want to, if perhaps your son--Laurens, or----"
+
+"But, Juffrouw, why didn't you call the neighbors?"
+
+Thus spoke Stoffel.
+
+"The neighbors? Well, I guess they know about it. The man who lives
+under me is afraid of a poodle-dog, not to mention a murderer. There's
+a man living next to me; but, you know, he is--what shall I say--he
+is a sort of bachelor, and I don't want to get talked about. You
+know a woman must always think of her reputation, and not get mixed
+up in gossip."
+
+It did not occur to anyone to ask what sort of a creature Stoffel
+was. Was he a bachelor? Or did his position as a teacher protect him
+against any worldly suspicion?
+
+"And, besides," continued the seductive Laps, "do you think all
+men have courage? No! They're as afraid of a thief as they are of
+death. Last week an insolent beggar was on the steps, and the fellow
+wouldn't leave. Do you think the men did anything to him? Scared to
+death! But, I tell you, I got hold of him in a hurry and----"
+
+She had gone too far, and she saw it.
+
+"Well, I would have done that if I hadn't been a woman; for a woman
+must never use violence. It isn't becoming. What do you say, Trudie? I
+ran and shut my door. Wasn't that right? No, none of the men-folk
+has any courage!"
+
+None of the men-folk! Walter felt insulted. He was swelling with
+suppressed courage; he was eager for a fray. At least, he was eager to
+show that he was an exception to Juffrouw Laps's general indictment. Of
+course Juffrouw Laps noticed this.
+
+"Well, if Stoffel doesn't want to----"
+
+"To tell the truth, I----"
+
+"And if Laurens is already asleep--and if--if no one else will----"
+
+She arose.
+
+"Then I suppose I must, relying upon God, go alone. But it's horrible
+for a woman to be entirely alone!"
+
+She looked at them all in turn, all except the one she was talking
+to. Walter felt that he was being forgotten, or overlooked. This only
+increased his latent courage and made him burn with a desire to be
+numbered with the knighthood of the house.
+
+"Yes, if there's nobody here who's not afraid----"
+
+"I'm not afraid!"
+
+All but Juffrouw Laps were surprised. She was a good psychologist,
+and had not expected anything else. It was her part, however, to
+pretend to be as much surprised as any of the rest.
+
+"You?"
+
+"You, Walter?"
+
+"Boy, are you crazy? You?"
+
+"Yes, I. I'm not afraid; not if there were ten in the closet and a
+hundred under the bed!"
+
+A little Luther! But with a difference. Luther had a God in whom
+he felt he could trust--reinforced by a few grand-dukes. Walter,
+without any grand-dukes, was ready to enter the field against a God
+who was allowing any number of murderers to take shelter under the
+roof and bed of Juffrouw Laps.
+
+"Boy!"
+
+"I'll risk it."
+
+"Let him go, Juffrouw Pieterse. You understand--it's company for me
+to have such a child with me. Then I'm not frightened so badly, if a
+murderer is in the closet. Nobody wants to be entirely alone. Isn't
+that so?"
+
+Juffrouw Laps gained her point: Walter was permitted to go with her.
+
+It was principally their vanity that caused the Pieterses to consent
+so readily to Juffrouw Laps's request and allow her to take Walter
+away to act as her castellan. Not one of them felt that it was a
+good thing for Walter to go with the Juffrouw; but they were all
+proud of his courage. The story would get noised abroad, and people
+would pass it on to their friends. Juffrouw Pieterse would see to
+it that the people knew it was "the same young gentlemen, you know,
+that went home with Dr. Holsma."
+
+Yes, and then people would say: "There's something in those Pieterse
+children."
+
+Mothers like to hear such things.
+
+With his package under his arm Walter marched away with Juffrouw
+Laps to do battle for that pious lady. That prehistoric weapon he
+left behind, on her assuring him that she had a well-filled store
+of weapons and ammunition enough to kill all the murderers that he
+would have occasion to contend with.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+Walter shuddered as he crossed Juffrouw Laps's threshold. He reflected,
+and wondered how he could have entered upon this knightly expedition
+without considering certain details connected with it and inseparable
+from it.
+
+The first thing she offered him, of course, was the fried potatoes,
+that dainty dish which the murderers had greedily made away with!
+
+Walter was beginning to feel that the game wasn't worth the candle. The
+adventure didn't offer sufficient outlet for his chivalry. In fact,
+he thought something other than chivalry was necessary to face
+single-handed and alone those fried potatoes and Juffrouw Laps's
+persistent attentions.
+
+"Make yourself at home and eat all you want. Don't be a bit
+embarrassed. Or would you rather take off your coat first? You know,
+you're to stay all night with me."
+
+Walter preferred to keep on his coat for the present.
+
+"And I have a dram for you, too, my boy--something extra. It's
+from Fockink's. You know where he has his distillery, there in that
+narrow street. You must never pass along there. Bad women live in
+that street. They stand at the doors and windows, don't you know;
+and that isn't good for a bachelor like you."
+
+Walter, the "bachelor," looked surprised. He was abashed; though he
+was not displeased. This promotion was more flattering than going into
+"business."
+
+Still, he was embarrassed. Juffrouw Laps found it desirable, therefore,
+to continue along this line.
+
+"Certainly, Walter, you're a bachelor. Don't you know that? It's only
+because at home they treat you like a child. I tell you, you're a
+bachelor, just as much so as anybody else. Do you think I like Stoffel
+as well as I do you? No, no, no! Not a bit of it! I like you lots
+better. Don't you want a pipe to smoke? You are man enough for that. Of
+course you are; and why shouldn't you smoke a pipe like other men?"
+
+Men, men!
+
+Walter answered that he couldn't smoke yet. It cost him an effort to
+make the admission; but his first attempt to equal Stoffel in that
+respect had turned out badly.
+
+"So? You don't smoke?" She omitted his "yet."
+
+"Well, it's a good thing. It's a stupid habit in men. And forever the
+terrible smoke! I know other young gentlemen who do not smoke. For
+instance, there is Piet Hammel. He's as old as you, but a little
+smaller. He's going to marry a cousin of mine; and he doesn't smoke
+either."
+
+Walter felt better now. He was interested.
+
+"Yes, they're going to get married about--well, I don't know exactly
+when. But they intend to marry. I tell you, you are a real bachelor;
+and it's awfully stupid of them still to treat you like a child. I've
+told your mother so a hundred times. There on the street just now,
+when we were together--I'm a delicate woman; but do you think I
+was afraid?--with you with me? Not a bit. Not a trace of fear. And
+why? Because everybody could see that I had a man with me. I ought
+to have taken hold of your arm--you're almost taller than I am--but
+I didn't do it because you had a package. And then--the people talk
+so much! The watchman might have seen it, and he would have spread
+the news broadcast that I had been seen at night with a gentleman."
+
+With a gentleman! Walter was listening.
+
+"A woman must always think of her reputation. But we're here at home
+now, and that's very different, entirely different. I know that of
+course you wouldn't tell anything bad about me. Whoever tells anything
+bad on a woman isn't a true gentleman. You know that."
+
+Yes, Walter knew it. He understood Juffrouw Laps better than she
+imagined.
+
+"What I wanted to say was, you must never go through that street. So
+long as you were a child, it made no difference. But now! Let me fill
+your glass for you."
+
+Walter drank.
+
+O Fancy, my muse, where art thou?
+
+"How do you like it?"
+
+Walter owned that the liquor had a pleasant taste.
+
+Satan's handmaid filled the glasses again. They were "so small,"
+really "mere thimbles."
+
+"And you must eat something, dearest. Oh, I have always thought so
+much of you! It's good for you to have a little dram like that."
+
+Walter began to eat.
+
+"Just take off your coat; there's nobody here but us."
+
+Quite so. Walter did take off his coat.
+
+"And I'm going to sit close to you, for you are a dear, good,
+sweet boy."
+
+Fancy, Fancy!
+
+The liquor was strong, and Walter drank more of it than was good
+for him. He lost some of his modesty, and hardly knew what he was
+saying to the talkative Juffrouw, as she asked questions from time
+to time. She was not quite satisfied with the way things were going,
+but hoped for the best.
+
+Occasionally Walter found time to wonder why he was there, what the
+purpose of the enforced visit might be. His hostess seemed to have
+forgotten all about those thieves and murderers; and when he reminded
+her of them, she showed a spirit of valor that did him good. For he
+and his valor were undone.
+
+"I will do them! Do you think I'm afraid of such a fellow? Well,
+I guess not. Not afraid of three of them. I wouldn't be afraid of
+ten of them--I'm not afraid of the whole world. I will do them."
+
+All the better, thought Walter; for then he wouldn't have to "do" them.
+
+They now heard something rustling around in the closet, or else they
+imagined they heard something. Walter was frightened. He was a perfect
+child again.
+
+"Stay here, and I will see what it is," cried the Juffrouw. "Do
+you think I would let them beat you, or stab you, or murder you,
+my boy! Never! Whoever touches you will have to walk over me. But I
+will give them all they need."
+
+She went out, taking the light with her, to see what was the matter--if
+anything. She was careful to leave Walter in the dark long enough for
+him to wish for her return. The tables were being turned. A little
+more, and the boy would seek protection under her apron.
+
+"But, Juffrouw----"
+
+"I will let you call me Christine. That's my name."
+
+This was too much for Walter. He preferred to avoid addressing her
+directly.
+
+"But hadn't I better go home now?"
+
+"Not at all. You don't want to leave me, do you? You know your mother
+is in bed asleep now. Besides, it was understood that you were to
+spend the night here and take breakfast with me."
+
+Breakfast! The boy hadn't been doing anything else for an hour. Was
+that to continue till morning?
+
+"I'll tell you what! Just undress yourself; and you needn't be a bit
+ashamed before me. I will make down a pallet for you there in the
+corner. When I'm here alone--just a woman--with all the thieves and
+robbers--oh, it's so horrible!"
+
+Walter did not dare to say no; nor did he dare to do what was proposed
+so enticingly. He hesitated.
+
+She talked sweetly and persuaded him.
+
+He began to----
+
+The child was as if hypnotized.
+
+O Fancy, Fancy! Where art thou?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+It will be remembered that on this significant Friday a boat-race
+had been arranged for the amusement of the visiting princes and
+princesses. It had to be called off on account of a disinclination
+on the side of the wind to fill its part of the program, or rather,
+to fill the sails. For it was to have been a "sail." Rowing was not
+in style then; it was not considered dignified and manly. Besides,
+the boats were not built to be propelled in this way.
+
+The boat-race had been canceled; but the crowd remained, and continued
+to discharge its enthusiasm for royalty till a late hour. It was a
+great day; and the populace perspired and shouted and howled.
+
+It was so hot that kings and princesses perspired like ordinary
+mortals. They flourished fans indolently. At that time there was a
+special kind of fan: "joujoux de Normandie."
+
+It was observed that the old countess-palatine manipulated her fan more
+elegantly than anyone else. No doubt it was through this "gentle art"
+that she exerted her greatest influence on humanity.
+
+Gradually the carriages of the distinguished guests disappeared,
+and the knightly horsemen tired of the saddle. The day drew to a
+close. The populace pushed and crowded and sang and hurrahed and
+drank. Fireworks were discharged, to express, so the newspapers said,
+the inexpressible love of the people for princes and princesses.
+
+Oh, those firecrackers, and the danger in them! Quick, quick--throw
+it--a second longer and it will burst in your hand--hurrah!
+
+It was magnificent--the danger and thrilling anxiety. There was
+a tradition that somebody had once held a firecracker in his hand
+too long and had been badly hurt by it. This traditional "somebody"
+was now inspiring the revelers with fresh enthusiasm.
+
+So it was on that evening, before the city authorities had prohibited
+the use of fireworks. After the houses had been covered with slate,
+it was thought that there was too much danger of fire in firecrackers,
+but on that evening, when the houses still had thatch roofs, the
+dangerous pleasure of Amsterdam youth was unrestrained.
+
+And the other dangerous pleasures! How many lasses went home with their
+skirts singed, some of them hardly getting home at all. Interesting
+adventures! And a boy--"those boys have to have their noses in
+everything"--yes, a youth came very near getting a load in his
+face. Thrilling delight!
+
+The crowd was now in the street where Juffrouw Laps resided. The
+reader will recall that Walter was spending the night with her.
+
+Boom! went a gun, or a cannon-cracker; and Walter awoke just as his
+affectionate hostess and religious adviser was going to give him
+a kiss.
+
+Juffrouw Laps had burned her sinful lips. "Lord have mercy on us,
+what is that!" she cried.
+
+Both ran to the open window. Ordinarily a respectable Hollandish girl
+never leaves her window open at night; but the extreme heat of the
+evening must be urged in Juffrouw Laps's favor.
+
+It was clear to them at once that they had not been fired upon by
+those "murderers," for nobody paid any attention to them or showed any
+interest in them. Other windows were open, as well; and on all sides
+people were looking out. Right and left a cannonade of firecrackers
+was going on.
+
+In the interest of privacy Juffrouw Laps took the precaution to blow
+out the light as quickly as possible. Another might have neglected
+this.
+
+Walter looked down on it all with the delight of a child. He forgot
+the insistent kindness of his hostess; he thought of nothing but
+the crowd below and their antics. The noise and tumult sobered him;
+and it even had a quieting effect on Juffrouw Laps.
+
+"How foolish the people are. They push one another hither and thither
+and don't know themselves why they do it."
+
+"Click, click!" answered an enthusiast with a gun. He was in the
+midst of a bevy of girls, who scattered in an uproar.
+
+"They're all drunk," said Juffrouw Laps. "I wish they would go
+home. I'm tired--and it's two o'clock."
+
+"Just a little more!" begged Walter. "I'm not tired--not a bit!"
+
+"I'm afraid you're catching cold. For you know, the night air after
+a hot day--well, put on your cap, dearest. I wouldn't have this night
+air to give you a cold for everything in the world. Look, there goes
+another one." It was a Roman candle.
+
+
+    "Amour ‡ la plus belle.
+    Honneur au plus vaillant----"
+
+
+"Why don't they sing Dutch? Do you understand any of it?"
+
+Walter knew something of the handsome Dunois, who slew so many Turks
+and received as his reward the daughter of the duke, his master. How
+would a knight be rewarded after he had already received one reward? Or
+how would it have been if the master had had no daughter?
+
+While Walter was asking his lady friend such difficult questions as
+these, they heard an outburst of cries and abuse and oaths below. A
+reaction had set in. It was a perfect riot. The crowd swayed first
+one way then the other, according as one party or the other was in
+the ascendency.
+
+Non-combatants were pushing their way out; combatants, themselves
+crowded, were crowding others. Cries of "help" were heard. Mothers,
+with babies in their arms, attested their fear; women in delicate
+health made their condition known.
+
+The press was worst on the corner, whither the revelers were streaming
+from three directions. Here was located a popular restaurant and
+drinking-place, which was probably the destination of the stream coming
+from Amstel Street. The second stream, coming from Utrecht Street,
+evidently had the same objective in view. The strongest current
+was flowing from the belligerent group, which was now squeezed into
+close quarters.
+
+From his recent experience Walter knew what it meant to be in such a
+mob. Whoever fell was walked over. But it really wasn't so bad as that:
+to fall was impossible. The danger was in being crowded off the street
+into basements, where limbs and necks might be easily broken. In this
+respect there was more danger than there had been the evening before
+in Kalver Street.
+
+"Christian souls!" cried Juffrouw Laps. "I'm getting right sick at
+the stomach."
+
+Walter's condition was about the same. All at once he seized her
+arm. He thought that he saw somebody--somebody who looked like----
+
+"That's right, dear. Hold fast to me. It's simply death and murder!"
+
+Walter did not say anything.
+
+"Isn't it enough to run anybody crazy?" continued the dear
+Juffrouw. "Hold fast to me, and remember that I am your Christine."
+
+He was remembering something else.
+
+"Don't be afraid--Lord, that child's beside himself--nobody shall
+hurt you. I will take care of you."
+
+He held on to her arm all the tighter; otherwise he was as if turned
+to stone.
+
+"I wouldn't pay any attention to it, sweetheart. But--it is bad
+enough. Do you see that girl there with the North Holland cap on? I
+wouldn't like to be in her place."
+
+"It is--Femke! O God, it is Femke!"
+
+Shaking off Juffrouw Laps, who attempted to hold him back, he rushed
+down the steps and in a few minutes was in the thickest of the fray.
+
+He fought his way through the crowd like a mad-man, soon reaching the
+point where he had seen Femke. She, however, had disappeared. A man
+with flashy cap and sailor's jacket, who from above had looked like
+her escort, was still contending with the crowd. It seemed as if the
+two had come arm in arm through Amstel Street.
+
+"Is there a girl here with a North Holland cap on?"
+
+The man was too busy fighting and wrestling for standing-room to make
+answer. Meanwhile, Walter noticed that the fellow was struggling
+toward the "Herberge," and concluded that his lady must have taken
+refuge there.
+
+Walter paid no more attention to the punches and blows he received. He
+was only concerned to give as many blows as were necessary to hasten
+his arrival at the restaurant. The place was about as badly crowded
+as the street, but there was no fighting going on.
+
+Yes, Walter had made a good beginning: yesterday in the "Polish
+Coffeehouse," to-day in the "Juniper Berry"--thrown in there, fighting
+his way in here.
+
+He was in the restaurant at last, looking for Femke. Now he thought
+that he had discovered her, standing on a step, or something of the
+kind. With lips tightly closed, her arms crossed, the girl was looking
+quietly down on the multitude as if in silent contempt. The rim was
+torn from her cap and was hanging down. Walter thought that he even
+saw blood on her face--Femke's dear face!
+
+He was exhausted and could not reach her. He looked at her. She did
+not see him.
+
+She stood there proud and haughty. He called to her. She did not hear.
+
+"O God! she despises me. I deserve it for my cowardice at Holsma's."
+
+"Boy," said the woman behind the bar, "we don't have any bellowing
+here. If you want to bellow go to your mother."
+
+Easier said than done. He couldn't move a peg, such was the press. He
+was shoved against the counter; and it was impossible for him to keep
+sight of Femke. The tears began to roll down his cheeks.
+
+"What are you doing in such a crowd anyway?" continued the woman,
+"when you're so weak. You look as flimsy as a dish-rag. What have
+you been doing? Let me give you a glass of cognac."
+
+He would have been only too glad to pay for his place; but, as he
+"received at home everything that he needed," he did not have
+the wherewithal. Still, there was no danger of his being thrown
+out. The crowd, which was threatening to expend its remaining
+energy in destroying the liquids of the place, was now occupying the
+barmaid's attention. I should say Mrs. Goremest's attention. She was
+the proprietress.
+
+The girl continued to hold her position of advantage. There was
+something scornful in her features. "Who dares!" she seemed to say.
+
+Walter was feeling bad. She looked over in his direction, but without
+seeing him. He called; but she did not hear.
+
+Then the fellow with the flashy cap and sailor jacket appeared in the
+door. He had not been one of the belligerents; but he had suffered
+the fate of neutral powers. As his clothing testified, both parties
+had been his enemies.
+
+So intent was the fellow on getting in that he did not even take time
+to return the shoves and cuffs that he received. Twice, three times
+he was crowded back; for where so many want the same thing, it isn't
+easy to obtain. Nevertheless, he had one advantage over the others,
+who sought only a resting-place and a glass of liquor. He was incited
+by something else.
+
+Walter hoped with all his heart that the fellow would succeed in
+reaching Femke. She looked so lonely in the midst of that wild mob. If
+he had been stronger, he would have--but she wouldn't have anything to
+do with him. Wouldn't she push him off, just as she did the insolent
+fellow who first caught hold of her apron?
+
+The girl seemed now to spy the sailor. She nodded to him and smiled,
+as if to encourage him. Or was she thanking him for his fidelity? Her
+smile bore the message that she was uninjured, and fearless. Yes,
+she stood there a statute of repose.
+
+The sailor nodded back.
+
+He would never have denied her, Walter thought.
+
+Mrs. Goremest happened to see the new arrival; and, from the way she
+greeted him, he seemed to be a frequent visitor to her place:
+
+"Hello, Klaas. Are you there too? You're out of breath, aren't you?"
+
+She gave orders to let him through, and even came out a few steps
+and helped open up the way for him.
+
+Thus it happened that Klaas Verlaan found standing-room at the counter
+not far from Walter.
+
+"Well, they've made the most of you!"
+
+He saw it the same way. He was never certain of a moment's recreation
+before bedtime. Walter, as well as the girl who still maintained her
+elevated position in the corner, agreed with the bar-woman's verdict.
+
+"Had a good day?" continued the woman. "It was bad about the
+boat-race."
+
+Klaas placed his finger on his mouth, as if he were going to tell
+her a secret. He wanted to tell of an adventure with Princess Erika.
+
+"A glass of corn?" translated the bar-woman, but without guessing
+the right thing.
+
+"Half and half?"
+
+"Nor that either."
+
+"Red?"
+
+This time Klaas was particularly dainty and hard to please. He declined
+regularly whatever she suggested and continued to exert himself to
+draw her into a more confidential talk. He had had the pleasure of
+pulling Princess Erika out of the water.
+
+On the outside they were still singing, "Amour ‡ la plus belle."
+
+"The devil take those Welsh songs!" cried one of the drinkers. "We
+are Dutchmen forever!"
+
+"Yes, we are Dutchman forever----"
+
+"And our prince----"
+
+"Sh!"
+
+"I will sing what I please; and, if anybody doesn't want to sing"--he
+struck himself on the chest, and the whole party was Dutch and
+enthusiastic over royalty. "Our Prince" was sung lustily, and to
+a finish.
+
+"Hurrah!"
+
+"Yes, when we were still true Dutchmen----"
+
+"Yes, when we were still true Dutchmen----"
+
+"And under the republic!"
+
+"Long live the republic!"
+
+"You all ought to have seen a yacht-race then."
+
+"And our prince----"
+
+"Under the republic all men were equal."
+
+"Equal. No difference at all."
+
+"Down with the tyrants!"
+
+"They're not a bit better than we are!"
+
+"They suck the life out of the people."
+
+"Yes, they bleed us."
+
+"And why? Because you're all cowardly dogs."
+
+"Yes, they're all cowardly dogs."
+
+"You put your necks under the yoke."
+
+"Whenever a king comes around, or an emperor, or a prince, then all
+of you are so frightened you tremble like an aspen leaf."
+
+"Yes, like an aspen leaf!"
+
+"If you fellows were----"
+
+"All men are born free."
+
+"Yes, we were born free and equal."
+
+"And true Dutch hearts--what say you, Mrs. Goremest? What do you think,
+that's a daughter of M'neer----"
+
+The name died on the speaker's lips. He became pale.
+
+"A daughter of M'neer----!"
+
+"Certainly. Ask Verlaan."
+
+Verlaan nodded.
+
+"Is that so, Klaas? Really and truly? Why then does she stand there
+dressed that way--like an ordinary girl?"
+
+"Oh, those clothes came from my Gertie, you know. Rich people have----"
+
+"Come, boys, we must go home now. Mother Goremest needs sleep,
+too. We are not made of iron; we are flesh and blood."
+
+"Down with the tyrants! We were born free. True Dutch hearts----"
+
+"Sh! The young lady----"
+
+"What? That girl? What then?"
+
+"Sh! The daughter of--but don't say a word. Damme if it isn't so--the
+daughter of M'neer--Kopperlith!"
+
+"Kopperlith on Keizersgracht? What are you talking about,
+man! Kopperlith--on Keizersgracht!"
+
+"Yes, of course. Come, we're going."
+
+"His daughter? His----natural daughter?"
+
+"That's right. You understand it now; but keep quiet about it."
+
+The true Dutch hearts and republicans paid and left the bar.
+
+It was a sudden whim of Klaas Verlaan's to make his ward a child of
+Keizersgracht; but it brought him in more ducats than he cared to
+admit afterward.
+
+Kopperlith? Kopperlith? on Keizersgracht? Femke on Keizersgracht! And
+on the day after to-morrow he was to begin work for this wealthy
+gentleman.
+
+His head swam. Was he still Walter Pieterse? He doubted it. Before
+he had quite come to himself, he was forced through the door with
+other late stragglers. It was time for Mrs. Goremest to close.
+
+The street was comparatively quiet now. Walter remained near the
+"Herberge," which to him was a sort of temple where his Goddess was
+being worshiped. Now and then somebody else was pitched out the door,
+who would have been glad to stay longer. It was not every day that
+one got an opportunity to see a daughter of M'neer Kopperlith. Some
+wanted to join the triumvirate of Verlaan, the republican speaker,
+and Mrs. Goremest; but the three felt themselves strong enough to do
+the work and share the rewards.
+
+At last the outflow ceased, and Walter was just going to peep through
+the curtains of the glass door, when the door opened again and the
+republican emerged. Walter heard Klaas call to him:
+
+"There on the corner in Paarden Street, you know. If it costs a dollar
+more, that's all right. Tell the cabby----"
+
+Walter understood. The republican was to get a cab--for Femke?
+
+Walter waited. In the meanwhile, Mrs. Goremest had locked the door and
+drawn the curtains, so that it was impossible for him to look in now.
+
+In a short time a carriage drove up, and the republican sprang out
+of it. The door of Mrs. Goremest's establishment opened again, and
+Klaas Verlaan with the ostensible daughter of Kopperlith appeared.
+
+"Femke, I am here!" Walter cried, hurrying to her. "I am here. Oh,
+Femke, don't go with the strange men!"
+
+"What in the devil are you doing here again!" snorted Verlaan, seizing
+Walter by the collar to pull him back into the restaurant. "What do
+you want? And who are you?"
+
+"Femke, don't go with the strange men. I will take you home, I,
+Walter."
+
+"The boy is weak in the upper story," affirmed Mrs. Goremest. "He's
+been bellowing around her the whole evening like a calf, and he hasn't
+spent a doit."
+
+Walter reached for Femke's hand; and then he noticed how curiously
+she was rigged out. She was completely covered. Of her head,
+face, shoulders, figure--nothing was to be seen. Mrs. Goremest
+had contributed her cloak; but what would one not do for a
+Kopperlith? Still, she was saving: Only the stump of one tallow
+candle was burning. It flickered strangely, giving to everything a
+ghostly appearance.
+
+"Is it you, Erich?" the girl asked.
+
+"Femke, Femke, for God's sake, don't go with those strange men!"
+
+Tearing himself away from Verlaan, he threw himself at Femke's feet. He
+pulled aside her cloak and covered her hand with tears and kisses.
+
+"Just like I tell you," declared Mrs. Goremest. "The boy is as crazy
+as a bedbug."
+
+"Femke, I will never deny you again. Strike me, tread on me, kill me,
+but--don't go with those strange men."
+
+"Light!" cried the girl peremptorily--a word that even a Dutchman
+understands.
+
+The republican took the candle from the counter and held it so that
+the light fell on Walter's face. The boy was still kneeling. Through
+an opening in her hood the girl looked down on him and was silent. She
+did not withdraw the hand that Walter held closely pressed to his lips.
+
+Verlaan made a motion as if to remove the intruder; but the girl
+stopped him with a look. Then she laid her free hand on Walter's head,
+saying simply:
+
+"My brother!"
+
+"Another descendant of Kopperlith!" growled the republican. The young
+people have strange ideas about how to spend the night."
+
+When Walter came to his senses, he was in the street again. The
+carriage had driven away--whether with her, or without her; whether
+with the two men, or without them--that he did not know. It made
+no difference to him: she had called him "brother," seriously,
+solemnly. She had spoken clearly and distinctly.
+
+"O God! I thank thee. Thou art kind and compassionate. I didn't
+know that Femke could speak like that. She must have felt it down in
+her heart."
+
+To-morrow, he thought, he would become immensely wealthy--in
+"business"--and, of course, he was going to be a king again, and
+still more: For Femke he would be more than a brother! Juffrouw Laps
+had awakened in him--well, something, he did not know himself what it
+was. His heart rejoiced; he walked upon stilts, as tired as he was,
+and wondered that his head did not bump against the clouds.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+For anyone in Walter's present mood, there are only two things in
+the world; self, and--nothingness!
+
+Walter looked about him. "Butter Market," he read on a sign. He noticed
+that in the street socks could be bought, wagons hired, etc., etc.
+
+But what did it all mean? Nothing. He had kissed Femke's hand!
+
+It is too bad that the world did not sink out of existence on that
+summer night.
+
+If Walter had noticed such an occurrence, he might have asked if
+Femke was hurt; otherwise the phenomenon would not have disturbed him.
+
+The reader will understand, of course, that on this eventful night
+the world did not go down.
+
+Walter forgave the sun for rising. He even excused the Butter Market
+for being such a hot place; but it was difficult for him to convince
+himself that it was not all a dream.
+
+A new feeling took possession of him. His ambitious plans of a material
+nature receded into the background of consciousness. His one desire
+now was to love Femke--and win her love. Those continents that were
+expecting salvation from him might wait.
+
+He thought of Femke and her soft hand. Never had her hand felt like
+that. Formerly it had seemed harder and rougher; but, of course,
+he had just been mistaken about it. He imagined, too, that hitherto
+he had not marked her voice well, nor her carriage. Surely, he had
+never seen the true Femke till to-night--better, this morning.
+
+But--Klaas Verlaan and his rough companions! What did all that
+gab about M'neer Kopperlith mean? There were other questions too;
+but--Femke had called him brother; and that was one thing which with
+him was as firm as the rock of Gibraltar.
+
+Brooding thus, he slipped along through the streets. Weak and tired,
+he came to the "Dam." Here he saw a long row of carriages. The
+coachmen sat in their places waiting for the princely guests, who
+had wanted to see a Holland sunrise. The sun was already in sight;
+but there were no princes and princesses to see him. A few laborers
+were looking on indifferently.
+
+Yesterday Walter would have exerted himself to see a live, fullgrown
+king, just to find out if he looked like Macbeth, or Arthur, or
+Lear. To-day he was so tired that kings did not interest him.
+
+He was just starting on, when the coachmen suddenly assumed a rigid
+attitude. A boy remarked that "they" were coming now. He was right:
+they did come; and all, except one old lady, drove away so rapidly that
+scarcely anyone saw them. She touched her coachman on the shoulder.
+
+"She has forgotten something," said the boy.
+
+Three or four cavaliers stormed back into the palace and brought her
+fan. While they were gone, the boys wondered at the pimples on her
+face. Walter's  pictures had had nothing of that kind. How different
+Femke's face was!
+
+Walter trudged along further; and, without thinking of where he was
+going, he came to the meadow where Femke and her mother dried their
+clothes. He sat down on the grass, intending to wait for the first
+signs of life in Femke's home. He was not certain that she was there;
+he did not know but that she might still be at Holsma's; but there
+would be somebody there.
+
+Overcome by weariness he lay down and gradually fell asleep. His cap
+came off, rolled down into the ditch and disappeared in the mud.
+
+If anyone passed by, he remarked that there lay a drunken fellow. Yes,
+youth begins early. Possibly the fellow was sick; but then the police
+would take care of him. Nobody hurt him; nobody touched him. His
+dreams were undisturbed.
+
+He dreamed of various things; but the principal object of his dreams
+was a young girl, who was standing on a platform playing ball with
+heavy men, as if that were nothing. Suddenly it was little Sietske
+Holsma.
+
+Then in his dreams he heard a voice:
+
+"Goodness, boy, how did you get here?"
+
+At first the voice was far away, then nearer, and finally quite
+near. He had the dim impression that somebody was pulling him up to
+a sitting posture.
+
+"Sietske!" he whispered, still sleeping.
+
+"Yes, that's my name. How did you know it?"
+
+"Sietske----!"
+
+"Why, certainly. Who told you? And what are you doing here. It isn't
+very respectable. Are you drunk? And so young, too."
+
+He called Sietske's name again.
+
+"You may call me by my first name, if you want to; but how does it
+come? Did Femke tell you? It's a real disgrace to lie here like a
+hog. What were you going to say?"
+
+Walter rubbed his eyes and felt of his head. "I would like to wash
+myself," he said, not yet wide awake.
+
+"All right," cried Mrs. Claus. "And you're not hurt, are you? Where
+is your cap?"
+
+"Wash--with cold water," Walter said.
+
+"Good! Come to the pump with me." She led him through the house and
+across the back yard.
+
+"You needn't be afraid to undress here; nobody can see you. But how
+did you happen to call me by my first name all at once. Not that I'm
+offended at all."
+
+Walter was still too much asleep to recall what had happened to him
+during the past few hours; so he only said that he had a headache
+and must wash himself first.
+
+Mrs. Claus, noticing that he was ashamed to undress, hung some quilts
+on the fence, thus converting the yard into a sort of room. It never
+occurred to her that her own presence might embarrass him. Walter
+was still not quite pleased with the outlook for a bath; but since
+yesterday he had been thinking of other things as strange.
+
+He began to strip, allowing Mrs. Claus to help him, just as if he
+had been fifteen years younger than he was. To Mrs. Claus he was only
+a child.
+
+She laid him on a bench under the spout and began to pump. At the first
+drops he shivered; then the water flooded his head and shoulders. He
+could neither see nor speak. His efforts to speak she interpreted as
+calls for more water.
+
+"Yes, this will be good for you." Her words were drowned by the
+splashing water.
+
+"You didn't hurt yourself, did you? Do you think that will be enough
+now? I've pumped till I've got a pain in my side. But if you think
+that----"
+
+She stopped all at once, but still held on to the pump handle, as if
+to show her willingness to continue.
+
+"I forgot entirely to"--she began pumping again--"wash you off with
+green soap. Femke always washes herself with it. It makes the skin
+nice and smooth.--You ought to see your back now. It shines like
+a looking-glass."
+
+Walter wanted to say something but couldn't.
+
+"Yes, and your forehead, too. It's the green soap that does it. I
+guess your mother never washes you with green soap, does she? Then
+one must scour and scrub and rub. But, if you are not used to soap----"
+
+She lifted that terrible pump handle again.
+
+"I believe this will be about enough," Walter blubbered. His mouth
+was so full of water that again Mrs. Claus did not understand him.
+
+"Green soap is good for corns, and for rheumatism." She was pumping
+away for dear life.
+
+Walter finally succeeded in rescuing himself and the bench from
+that destructive stream of water. He was now able to make his cries
+for mercy understood; but he was not yet able to get up. Besides,
+the good woman had hung his clothes out of his reach, and he was
+ashamed. He remained sitting.
+
+"Do you want anything else?" inquired the water nymph.
+
+"No, no, no!" he answered quickly. She was already lifting the
+pump-handle again. "But----"
+
+The simple, innocent woman did not understand; and, when he continued
+to sit there like a helpless lump of misery, she asked:
+
+"Do you have a pain anywhere?"
+
+"No, I haven't any pains."
+
+"Are you tired?"
+
+He was still tired, and said so.
+
+"And I woke you up! I'll tell you what, you must go to sleep and take
+a good nap."
+
+She began drying him off, as if that were a usual thing in her day's
+work. Then she rolled him up in a sheet and carried him off like a sack
+of clothes. He could not but notice the way she laid him down. Then
+she covered him warmly.
+
+"Straighten out your legs, my boy."
+
+Walter did as she said, and experienced an indescribable feeling of
+comfort. And when she punched him and patted him and tucked him in,
+and said: "Poor child, you can sleep good now. This is Femke's bed,
+you know----" then he was more than comfortable; he was delighted.
+
+When he awakened at about four o'clock in the afternoon he heard
+whispering voices. He listened, at first to find out where he was,
+and then to understand what was being said.
+
+It seemed as if there were a plot further to confuse Sietske with
+Femke in his mind.
+
+"Yes, Sietske; but what does he mean by lying out like that? If I
+were his mother----"
+
+The answer was:
+
+"Cousin, I don't suppose his mother knows about it. Hermann did the
+same thing once. That's the way boys are."
+
+Oho! Sietske was there; and Mrs. Claus was her cousin, and her name
+was Sietske too! And that girl--there in Mrs. Goremest's place?
+
+His thoughts became more and more confused; though physically he
+felt well.
+
+How would it do, he thought, to tear a little piece out of the sheet,
+so as to be able to examine it to-morrow and make certain of himself
+and his adventures?
+
+If he had been accustomed to fine bedlinen at home, he might now
+have taken an especial pleasure in Mrs. Claus's extremely rough
+homemade linen. Hm! He had always dreamed of princesses sleeping on
+embroidered silk, among diamonds and pearls! He did not yet know that
+it is possible to conceive royal and imperial highnesses otherwise
+at night, and that perhaps a princess might sometimes be willing to
+tousle Femke's bed.
+
+He looked about the room. There was another small bed, where, he
+supposed, Femke's mother slept. Across the room was the chimney. Here
+were small shelves decorated with works of art. Walter noticed the
+"resurrection of Lazarus." Four chairs were in the room. One was
+standing by his bed, and on it his clothes were carefully arranged.
+
+In the middle of the room stood a table; and the drawer was partly
+open. It was too full. Father Jansen's woolen socks were peeping
+out while they waited for repairs. Walter wondered if those other
+objectionable articles were there too.
+
+On the wall, at the head of his bed, hung a crucifix, with a small
+basin of holy water. With that she crosses herself, he thought. He
+stuck his hand into it: it was dry. The whole arrangement was fastened
+to an embroidered piece of cardboard, and, when he touched it,
+something fell from behind it.
+
+It looked like a large-sized letter. Walter picked it up and looked for
+the address. He felt that it must be a letter from Femke to him. Then
+he reproached himself, and, trembling with emotion, restored the piece
+of paper to its place. He had held it up to the light: it was the
+Ophelia that he had presented her after his illness! She had treasured
+the picture together with the most sacred thing she possessed.
+
+He was wide awake now; but who wouldn't wake up on receiving a letter
+from Heaven?
+
+He dressed himself and went into the other room, where he supposed
+Mrs. Claus and Sietske were. Not a soul was to be seen. For the first
+time it occurred to him that after those few words he had heard nothing
+more. The girl had surely visited her "cousin" and then gone away.
+
+But Mrs. Claus herself? Perhaps she, too, had gone away. This was
+the case; however, she had not gone out without leaving behind her
+a peculiar sign of her uncouth character and lack of refinement. On
+a small table, before which stood an inviting chair, lay two pieces
+of bread and butter of her standard make. Beside them was a pot of
+coffee. To be sure, it was cold now; but--well, Walter acted quickly
+"according to his convictions."
+
+Other thoughts now forced themselves on his mind. The "House of
+Pieterse" appeared to his mind's eye as a menacing waterspout. In
+the face of this danger difficult questions that had been clamoring
+for answer had to be forgotten.
+
+To go home? For heaven's sake, no!
+
+His mother, Stoffel, his sisters--all had turned into Macbethan
+witches. In his imagination, even Leentje had deserted him and was
+asking him to beg forgiveness for his shameful behavior. He thought
+of the prodigal son; though he knew that no calf, fat or otherwise,
+would be slaughtered on his return.
+
+Sakkerloot! I haven't done anything wrong; I haven't squandered
+anything--not a doit of my inheritance! Have I allowed the wine to
+run out? Not a drop!
+
+But something must have been the matter; for--he did not dare to
+go home.
+
+Have I had any pleasure? Have I enjoyed any feast with four young
+ladies? No! Have I allowed hounds to run around loose in the
+banquet-hall? Have I had any negro servant to hold my horse?
+
+There he took his stand. And he stayed there. Of camels and girls and
+wine he felt that he was innocent; but himself, and his adventures
+of the night, he was unable further to explain.
+
+"I wish I were a crumb of bread," he sighed, as he stuck one into
+his mouth, "then I would know where I belong."
+
+Doubtless the first crumb of bread that was ever envied by a ruler.
+
+Go to America?
+
+Yes, if he only had those hundred florins that Mr. Motto had relieved
+him of. Of course that worthy gentleman was now living like a prince
+on the money. At least, Juffrouw Pieterse had said as much. But,
+even if he had the money, he could not go away and leave Mrs. Claus's
+house to the mercy of stray thieves and robbers. In a way, hadn't he
+on yesterday evening taken the field against robbers?
+
+Besides, he had no cap. There was nothing in sight that looked like
+a hat. Yes--there hung a North Holland cap!
+
+Femke? America?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+While Walter was looking at Femke's cap and revolving other plans of
+escape, the door opened and Kaatje, the girl from Holsma's, walked
+in. Not recognizing her, Walter did not understand her when she said
+that Femke had sent her to ask how he was. He looked at the messenger
+searchingly; then he asked:
+
+"Are you trying to make a fool of me?"
+
+He had puzzled over recent events till everything seemed ghostly and
+unreal; and he was angry.
+
+"My dear sir, Femke sent me."
+
+"What Femke? Somebody's grandmother again." He took a step forward;
+and his attitude was threatening.
+
+"Are you that giant Miller's sweetheart?" taking another step forward,
+while Kaatje fell back.
+
+"Young man!"
+
+Kaatje was already outside of the door, Walter close after her with
+his fists doubled up.
+
+"Young man, what's the matter with you?"
+
+"What's the matter with me? I'm tired of being made a fool of. You
+understand?"
+
+She retreated backwards; he pursued. It may have looked comical; but
+that was the way his anger chose to express itself. In this manner
+the girl returned by the same way she came, which was the footpath
+across the meadow where the clothes were dried.
+
+"Oh, heavens! If the doctor would only come."
+
+"What do you think of me?" Walter said, punctuating his words.
+
+"Oh, Lord!"
+
+"Do you think I'm drunk?"
+
+"Oh, no, no. Not at all!"
+
+"Or crazy?"
+
+"No, no!--Where can the doctor be so long!"
+
+Two very similar shouts put an end to the strained situation.
+
+"Thank God, there he is!"
+
+"Thank God, there it is!"
+
+One cry came from Dr. Holsma's coachman, who was driving up hurriedly;
+the other cry meant that two boys, who were fishing in the ditch for
+frogs, had caught Walter's cap.
+
+Walter accepted his lost property without question or complaint;
+while Kaatje, with tears in her eyes, ran up to Dr. Holsma to explain
+what was the matter.
+
+"Is it really so bad?" asked that gentleman presently.
+
+He approached Walter, who was shaking the mud from his cap, glad to
+think that he was concealing his embarrassment and fright.
+
+"Well, my boy, it's a good thing I met you here. I wanted to ask you
+if you wouldn't like to take dinner with us this evening. Afterwards
+we will all go out for a little amusement, if you like."
+
+That was the tone Walter needed to hear. He burst into tears.
+
+"Thank you, thank you! That will be nice for my mother, too."
+
+Holsma motioned to Kaatje, who had timidly retired to the background.
+
+"Go to Juffrouw Pieterse and tell her that the young gentleman dines
+with us, and that he is going to spend the evening with us."
+
+"Yes," cried Walter quickly, "and----"
+
+The doctor looked at him anxiously. He was afraid that he saw symptoms
+of the alleged mental disorder; but Walter's eye was calm and gave
+no ground for fear.
+
+"M'neer, can't she say too that I----"
+
+"Out with it, my boy! What have you on your heart?"
+
+"That I was with you--all day!"
+
+Holsma reflected.
+
+"Certainly," he said, "all day."
+
+"From early this morning--from seven o'clock on."
+
+"From seven o'clock on," the doctor repeated.
+
+"And--I ate breakfast at your house."
+
+"Certainly, the young gentleman ate breakfast at our house. To be
+sure, he ate breakfast with us. Kaatje, you can ride in the carriage
+with us."
+
+As Holsma helped Walter in he gave the coachman directions to stop at
+Juffrouw Pieterse's, where "the girl" was "to leave a message." When
+he took a seat by his protÈgÈ, Walter pressed his hand and exclaimed:
+"Oh, what a good fortune it is that I found you!"
+
+"Do you think so? It was only a--mere accident. Mrs. Claus is a----"
+
+"A cousin?" interrupted Walter.
+
+"Yes, and she's a good woman," said Holsma. "She is a cousin of ours,
+and I came to visit her. I do that every week, not as a physician,
+but as a kinsman. You can go to see her as much as you like: nothing
+will hurt you there."
+
+"M'neer!" exclaimed Walter suddenly--and he caught his breath--"I
+think so much of Femke!"
+
+"So?" answered Holsma dryly. "I do too."
+
+The doctor was diagnosing Walter's case; but he preferred to do it
+quietly. While speaking of indifferent things, he noted that Kaatje had
+been mistaken; that Walter was both excited and exhausted, but that
+his mind was unaffected. On the contrary, his mind was growing. His
+soul was expanding.
+
+When Kaatje left the carriage, Walter felt that the time had come to
+give and receive explanations. Holsma was of a contrary opinion. He
+was friendly enough, but showed no inclination for heart-to-heart
+confidences. Walter's confusing story was promptly interrupted.
+
+"I've heard that you're going to enter the world of business."
+
+"Yes, sir, the day after to-morrow."
+
+"Well, that isn't bad, if you get into the right hands. You must work,
+though; and that's good for boys like you."
+
+Fearing that Walter might imagine he was something more than the
+average boy, Holsma continued immediately:
+
+"It's a good thing for everybody, especially young people. They're
+all alike; and all need to work. All boys must work; and girls,
+too. Everybody must work."
+
+Walter did not understand that the doctor was giving him a dose
+of medicine; but he saw that the time for explanations had not
+yet arrived. Still he would have felt better if he could have
+unburdened his mind of at least a part of those persistent memories
+of last night. His instinct of chivalry would have prevented him
+from mentioning the details of the Laps affair, which, after all,
+had only been an ineffective attack.
+
+He began again; but the doctor interrupted him before he had hardly
+mentioned the fried potatoes.
+
+"Yes, such things happen to everybody. That doesn't amount to
+anything. The thing for young people to do--and for old people,
+too--is to work. It seems to be rather windy."
+
+That was true. If it had only been as windy yesterday.
+
+"Do you like pictures?" asked Holsma, when they had left the carriage
+and were entering his home.
+
+"Of course!"
+
+"Good! Just go into that room. Look at everything as long as you
+please."
+
+The doctor pushed him into the room, then ran through the hall and
+up the stairs to prepare the family for Walter's reception.
+
+Walter found little pleasure in paintings. He had had no training
+in art. For him, a man with a dog and a hare was merely a man with a
+dog and a hare. He felt that a poem ought to have been written about
+it all; then it would have been intelligible. His glance fell on the
+portrait of a woman, or a queen, or a fairy, or a mayor's daughter.
+
+Femke!
+
+Instead of the North Holland cap she wore a diadem of sparkling stars,
+or rays of----
+
+"Dinner is ready, and papa and mamma invite you to come out to the
+dining-room. Are you still sore after your fall?" It was little
+Sietske.
+
+"I didn't fall."
+
+"I mean from your fall on the table in the coffee-house. How
+comical! Well, if you are all right again, we're going out this
+evening--papa, mamma, William, Hermann, you, I--all! We're going to
+the theatre!"
+
+Sietske had understood her orders.
+
+"Going out?--to the theatre? But my mother----"
+
+"Papa will attend to that. Don't worry; he will arrange everything."
+
+Once out in the hall, Walter hesitated again. He motioned to Sietske
+and took her back into the room.
+
+"Sietske, who is that?"
+
+"That is a great-great-great-great-grandmother of ours."
+
+"But she looks like----"
+
+"Like Femke! Of course. Like me, too. When Hermann puts on such a
+cap you can't tell him from Femke. Come, now. We mustn't keep mamma
+waiting."
+
+On entering the dining-room Walter was met by that quiet cordiality
+that the doctor had prescribed. When all were seated Sietske mentioned
+the picture again in apologizing to Walter for hurrying him away
+from it.
+
+"Yes," remarked the doctor quietly, "there is some resemblance;
+but Femke is not so pretty. No, not by a great deal."
+
+A cold douche!
+
+Walter had never thought of Femke's beauty. He really did not know
+whether the girl was pretty, or not.
+
+"Will you take some sauce, Walter?"
+
+She had called him brother, so solemnly, and with such a mien! Of
+course the lady in the portrait, with the sparkling diadem, would
+hold out her hand the same way. Walter made an awkward gesture with
+his hand.
+
+"Salad?" asked Sietske.
+
+"It will be crowded," said Mevrouw Holsma. "Everyone will want to see
+the kings and princes. We haven't asked our guest yet if he wants to
+go. We're going to the theatre; would you like to go with us?"
+
+Walter was charmed at the prospect. He had never been in a theatre,
+but had long wanted to see such a play as Leentje had described. He
+cared nothing for kings. He would have given a dozen kings for one
+baron carrying away a girl in the approved manner. The Glorioso
+influence was still on him.
+
+"We shall see half of the sovereigns of Europe," said Holsma, "and
+a dozen candidates----"
+
+Walter wondered what the candidates would do in the "comedy." Sietske
+explained.
+
+There was still plenty of time. Holsma was going out to see a patient
+and promised to stop at Juffrouw Pieterse's.
+
+For reasons of fashion and feminine finery the play was not to begin
+till nine o'clock.
+
+Walter heard that Femke, too, was to witness the performance; and from
+the conversation he gathered that the relations existing between the
+aristocratic family and the poor wash-girl were most cordial. Mevrouw
+Holsma sent Sietske to ask Femke to come in; but Femke preferred to
+remain with little Erich, with whom she was playing at the time.
+
+"Erich?" thought Walter.
+
+"I thought as much," said Mevrouw Holsma. "That's why she wasn't at
+the table. She would rather stay with the baby."
+
+"She says, too, that we sit at the table too long for her," added
+Sietske.
+
+"She wouldn't enjoy the play anyway," observed William. "She's a good
+girl, but she's a little thick-headed. Don't you think so, mamma?"
+
+"Everyone must act according to his own convictions, and consult his
+own tastes. Femke is too good to be forced to anything."
+
+There must have been some special reason why the mother was going
+to the theatre with the rest, when she preferred to stay at home
+with little Erich, who had the measles. But she was going to remain
+"only a little while," and then come back with Uncle Sybrand. He
+would return to the theatre taking Femke with him, if she cared to go.
+
+"I call it thick-headedness," affirmed William. "She just don't want
+to put on a fine dress."
+
+"No, she doesn't want to be a fine lady," said the mother. "She is
+very sensible and fears that this might disturb her relations with her
+mother. We ought to have taken her when she was little; but Mrs. Claus
+couldn't give her up then. And now Femke can't give herself up."
+
+"She's only stubborn," William explained.
+
+"She is proud," corrected his mother, "too proud to appear other than
+she is. She wouldn't exchange places with a princess."
+
+Uncle Sybrand came. He announced that the "Scylla" of Rotgans was to be
+given, followed by "Chloris," with something else as a close. Holsma
+had already returned, bringing Walter the assurance that it was all
+right with his mother.
+
+Walter was enchanted in anticipation. Was he still thinking of Femke?
+
+William said: "So far as I'm concerned she can stay at home. Suppose
+the students were to see me with a peasant girl! What would they do
+for me when I enter college in September?"
+
+Such an Amsterdamer calls everybody a "peasant," even if he is a
+student and able to explain what sort of a "Scylla" that was.
+
+All were now dressed and starting. Walter was to see his first
+"comedy," and, perhaps, take a part in one.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+Good Muse, sweet Muse, take us back to Pieterseville again. Whisper
+to me and tell me what happened there during Walter's romantic
+enchantment; and have a care that my language rises to the dignity
+of the subject.
+
+We know already, Clio, how the mistress of the castle saw her progeny
+depart to protect the distressed lady from the nefarious attacks of
+robbers and murderers; how her blessing and the consecrated blade were
+withheld, and how the brave youth sallied forth with a nightcap his
+only weapon. We know, too, how the bachelor Stoffel, the hereditary
+custodian of the reputation of the family----
+
+Ah, let us treat the matter quite simply, and leave the muse alone.
+
+On the Friday evening in question Juffrouw Pieterse went to bed as
+usual. The others did the same. There were no indications of bad
+dreams. There was no trace of anxiety over the terrible danger to
+which Walter had thoughtlessly exposed himself. This might have
+been because they did not know of the danger. It had not been at
+all necessary for Juffrouw Laps to conceal her intention so slyly
+and always omit Walter's name from the knighthood of the Pieterse
+family. Thanks to the stupidity of the family, she might have gained
+her point without any finesse.
+
+Saturday morning dawned, that morning on which Mrs. Claus applied
+the restoratives so abundantly, and so efficaciously.
+
+"I wonder where in the world the boy can be so long?" said the mother.
+
+"I don't suppose he got up very early; and then maybe she had him to
+read a chapter out of the Bible at breakfast."
+
+This explanation by Stoffel quieted the family for half an hour.
+
+"How would it do for you to go over there?" Juffrouw Pieterse proposed
+at last.
+
+"I'm not going, mother. You know it isn't on my way to school."
+
+That was a sufficient reason. Never do anything that isn't on your
+way--one of the favorite maxims of conservatism. Stoffel himself did
+not know how profound was the wisdom of his political aphorism.
+
+"How would it do, then, to send Leentje over to Juffrouw Laps's to
+inquire about Walter?"
+
+This proposal met with approval, and Leentje was dispatched forthwith.
+
+Oh, poor Juffrouw Laps! She was "the most wretched woman in the world;"
+and the room from which Walter had fled so suddenly was now the temple
+of all the heterogeneous griefs and pains that novelists ever make
+use of.
+
+I will not place Walter above Joseph, Theseus, Jason or Hippolytos. May
+Apollo preserve me from such blind partiality. Not by any means do I
+regard my hero as the most interesting mortal that ever left a woman
+in the lurch. No, not in Walter's worth do I seek for the measure
+of the forsaken lady's despair. Indeed, Juffrouw Laps's pain was
+not caused by any reflections as to the beauty or excellence of the
+vanished knight. There was another element in the matter that was
+filling her with horror and driving her to distraction. With all due
+respect for the suffering of other abandoned ladies, Asnath, Ariadne,
+Medea, Phaedra--but Juffrouw Laps had to face Walter's family. That
+was the trouble.
+
+Her fertile brain evolved the most wonderful plans. How would it do for
+her to tell that he had been carried away in a fiery chariot before
+the eyes of the people, like Elias of old? She discarded the idea,
+for fear that no one would believe it.
+
+At first she had waited at the window, watching for her little Theseus
+to return. When she saw him no more she thought that perhaps the mob
+had carried him off with them. That was not an unpleasant thought;
+since her fear for his return to his family was greater than her
+desire for his return to her. This is easily understood: what might
+he not tell at home?
+
+It was already daylight; but Juffrouw Laps knew that it was too early
+to go to the Pieterses'. Besides, what would she say? That her little
+knight had run away during the night? And why? Whither? How did she
+know but that he had already told the story in all its details?
+
+She determined--not to determine upon anything, and to leave the
+matter with the "Master" for the present. With this pious resolve she
+climbed into her maidenly bed; and, before falling asleep, she groaned:
+"If the rascal had only broken his neck, like the high priest Eli,
+in First Samuel, 4!"
+
+No doubt the Master saw the distress of his faithful disciple and
+taught her how to meet the situation that awaited her waking; for
+Leentje soon returned with the assurance of Juffrouw Laps that Walter
+was out taking a morning walk.
+
+In a way, this was the truth. The Juffrouw merely neglected to add
+why he was taking a walk, and at what hour in the morning he had gone
+out. Leentje, suspecting nothing, asked no questions. For her it was a
+"matter of course" that he would not go out in the middle of the night.
+
+The family now regarded the incident as fresh evidence of Walter's
+objectionable habit of roving, and nothing more. They felt no anxiety
+for his personal safety.
+
+"There it is again!" said the mother. "The trouble and vexation I
+have with that boy. Anybody else would sit down for a while after
+breakfast; but he--what does he do? He runs away before it's hardly
+daylight. Is that any way to do, Stoffel?"
+
+"No, mother."
+
+"And to leave us here anxious and worrying over him!"
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"This is a nice caper he's cutting again. He knows very well that
+we're all uneasy and won't have a minute's peace till he comes. God
+only knows where he is."
+
+Stoffel could not wait to hear more. It was time for him to go
+to school.
+
+It may be repeated that there was not a word of truth in all this
+uneasiness and anxiety. The family considered such a display to be the
+proper thing; though, for the rest, they did not manifest the slightest
+interest in Walter's fate. For aught they knew some accident might
+have happened to the boy; but, instead of making a serious effort to
+find out what had become of him, his mother found it easier to accuse
+him of indecorous conduct and general worthlessness.
+
+Thus matters remained until Dr. Holsma's carriage drove up before
+Juffrouw Pieterse's door that afternoon and Kaatje alighted with her
+message. After the recent fright Walter had given her, she was glad
+enough to escape from such close proximity to the young lunatic. For
+thus she regarded him.
+
+All rushed to the window.
+
+"There he is; there he is!" cried the whole family in a breath, and
+as loud as they could. "Did you ever! Really, he's sitting there in
+Dr. Holsma's carriage."
+
+This flattering observation banished everything else from their
+thoughts, and made Kaatje's task an easy one. It was now a simple
+matter for her to allay their fears. They were no longer concerned
+to know where Walter had been. It was enough that he was now in
+Dr. Holsma's carriage.
+
+"Ate breakfast at the doctor's? Girl, you don't say so! And--and--why
+isn't the coachman wearing his furs?"
+
+Kaatje was dumbfounded and could only stammer some reference to the
+season. In fact, the manner in which her message was being received
+strengthened her worst suspicions of Walter's sanity. It seemed to
+her that the entire family was a little "off."
+
+"And he really ate breakfast at the doctor's? Do you understand,
+Trudie? Ate breakfast at Dr. Holsma's!"
+
+"Yes, he ate breakfast with us. To be sure he did. The doctor himself
+said so."
+
+"At Dr. Holsma's, and ate breakfast there?"
+
+"Why, certainly. Where else?"
+
+"And did he use the good manners I've taught him?"
+
+"Of course, Juffrouw! But----"
+
+"And is he now in the carriage with the doctor?"
+
+"Why, Juffrouw--naturally!"
+
+"Listen, my dear," continued the proud mother, "I am going to tell you
+something; but you need not repeat it to anybody else. Don't you know,
+that's an unusual child!"
+
+"Yes," sighed Kaatje, thoroughly convinced, "I know it."
+
+"You know it, don't you? And do you know why? I'm going to tell
+you. He's an unusual child, because--Pietro, move away a little, and
+you, too, Mina. Trudie, you can stay where you are, but pay attention
+to your knitting!--he's an unusual child, don't you know, because,
+before he was born, you understand----"
+
+"Oh, Juffrouw!"
+
+"Yes, my dear, I dreamed of a butterfly; and it was dragging off an
+elephant! You understand now?"
+
+"Oh, yes, Juffrouw. I understand exactly."
+
+"Don't you see? That's the reason. Give the doctor my politest regards,
+and thank him for me. If he's only well-behaved--I mean Walter. And
+the coachman wears such a fur cap only in the winter?"
+
+Kaatje managed to escape, fully resolved never to dream of elephants
+and butterflies. Such an indulgence seemed to her to be particularly
+dangerous; for she now began to think in all seriousness that the
+whole family was crazy, and that what she had seen in Walter was
+merely a sample of the general disorder.
+
+When a few hours later the doctor himself stopped at Juffrouw
+Pieterse's, her joy over Walter's exaltation know no bounds. Holsma
+took note of the stupid woman's foibles and follies, and resolved
+to prescribe an intellectual diet for Walter that would counteract
+their influence.
+
+Poor Juffrouw Laps! If she had only known how happily everything
+had turned out, how much worry she might have spared herself! In the
+seclusion of her own room she was still quoting the Bible and fighting
+for her honor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+The reader is now invited to return to the theatre party, from which
+he was called suddenly away by the anxiety experienced in certain
+quarters over Walter's disappearance.
+
+The family took their seats, in the parquet this time, having had to
+give up their box to visiting potentates. The box was still unoccupied.
+
+"A comedy!" Walter thought. He looked about him and listened.
+
+The house was crowded, and everyone was talking. Backstairs gossip and
+court scandals were passed around. People were wondering who would
+sit there, and who would sit there. Later arrivals were pushing at
+one another and quarreling about seats.
+
+"The programs for the princes are printed on silk. What do you suppose
+it cost a yard?"
+
+"Rotgans is one of the first poets!"
+
+"Hm! Better say one of the second."
+
+"He's a poet of the seventh class."
+
+"Why, then, one of his plays? We have poets whose song is as clear
+as a bell!"
+
+"Of course, Bilderdyk! A Phoenix!"
+
+"Oh, these foreigners don't understand a word of it anyway, and it
+doesn't make any difference what the play is."
+
+"It's a pity about Floris."
+
+"Oh, there's something behind that."
+
+"Yes, Bilderdyk is a patriot."
+
+"A genuine Hollander!"
+
+"A genuine----"
+
+"He will give those foreigners something to think about."
+
+"Sh!---- ... not much flattery. No Hollander is going to do that."
+
+"Sh!"
+
+Everybody stood up. A footman appeared in the royal box, probably to
+see whether the cushions were straight on the chairs, or not.
+
+"The idea, the very idea of standing up before a lackey!"
+
+It was enough to make them indignant; but they had done it, even
+those who protested loudest. There were city aldermen in the number,
+and doctors, and professors, and prominent business men, including,
+perhaps, the great Kopperlith.
+
+Another period of babbling and waiting; then another footman
+appeared. Again everybody sprang to his feet. Again all, except the
+silent Holsmas, railed at such stupidity.
+
+The crowd became more restless. Innumerable times were they fooled by
+some footman or other, who opened a door to break the monotony. The
+people were already beginning to complain, but softly, cautiously.
+
+Walter was carried away with the elegance and magnificence of it
+all. One thing, however, jarred upon his sense of propriety: he
+wondered how such swell folk could say such commonplace things. The
+Holsmas said nothing. Only once, when Uncle Sybrand pointed to a
+certain box, did they join in the general hubbub.
+
+"She will sit there, I think."
+
+"I shall be sorry if I have left little Erich all for nothing,"
+said Mevrouw Holsma.
+
+"He's safe with Femke."
+
+"Yes, but I had rather be with him myself. The child is sick. I'm
+not going to wait much longer."
+
+"It's doubtful whether she will come with the others. I've heard that
+she's full of moods and mischief. She cares nothing for convention. It
+seems to run in the blood."
+
+"If she isn't here by ten o'clock I'm going. I don't care much about
+it, anyway."
+
+This conversation occupied Walter for a short time. Who was this person
+on whose account Mevrouw Holsma had left the bedside of her sick child?
+
+The tension of expectancy was broken, and a momentary excitement pulsed
+through the multitude. All arose to their feet, and remained standing.
+
+An emperor, or something of the kind, entered the royal box. Walter
+could see little; but he inferred what was going on from whisperings
+he heard about him. His majesty had made a quick rush for his chair,
+turning over a few other chairs in so doing. That was a habit of
+his. Then he looked about the auditorium for a moment with squinted
+eyes, jerked up his chair and fell into it. He was in a hurry. The
+public was now at liberty to take their seats.
+
+The other boxes were now filled quickly, as if by a stroke of
+magic. Remarkable costumes were on exhibition. There were bodices three
+inches wide, with skirts of as many yards. Voluptuous bosoms hovered
+between chin and girdle. Scanty sleevelets did not know whether they
+were to cover arms or shoulders. The ladies wore kid gloves reaching to
+their armpits, and on their heads were turbans and flower-gardens. The
+uniforms of the gentlemen were even more conspicuous. Those shakos! The
+enemy would have run at the sight of them.
+
+The orchestra began to play. It was that song about the brave Dunois,
+of course.
+
+"Arise!" someone called; and all scrambled to their feet again in
+honor of the brave hero.
+
+The curtain went up.
+
+
+    "Yes, Minos, on the present that I gave to thee----
+    'Twas stolen from the church----"
+
+
+"What church?" asked Walter.
+
+"Sh!" from William. "Poetic license. You will see how it is."
+
+
+    "----hangs Nisus' crown and life."
+
+
+"Qu'est-ze qu'elle changte?" cried the countess-palatine. Then she
+let herself out on costumes, speaking in a noisy voice.
+
+Walter listened like a finch. Not that he understood very well;
+but everything strange interested him intensely.
+
+Not a soul was touched by the tragic bravery of King Minos; no one was
+listening. Poor Rotgans! Afterwards it was said that Napoleon had been
+especially pleased with "our Snoel" and with "our Watlier." Goodness,
+Napoleon! When he was to be crowned he had Talma the mimic to drill
+him for the ceremony--instead of saying to Talma: "Look, this is the
+way an emperor appears when he's crowned!"
+
+Walter listened attentively; even though he sometimes felt that he
+could make such verses himself.
+
+During the performance another commotion arose. One of their majesties
+had asked for a glass of orange lemonade; and this was something the
+buffetier did not have. A runner was dispatched to the drug-store
+post haste. He returned with a bottle of lemon-syrup. The situation
+became threatening. The news spread like fire that they were making a
+"Majesty" wait for such a trifle. King Minos declared:
+
+
+    "Feelings of pleasure thrill my inner man--"
+
+
+"De l'eau de fleur d'orange! que diantre!" cried a chamberlain. And
+Minos noticed that nobody was interested in what was going on in
+his interior.
+
+A confectioner up on "Olympus" allowed his light to flash out and
+gave some valuable information; but the police had him by the collar
+in a jiffy. He was to be dragged away and put in confinement for
+the present. The technical charge was, "Making a demonstration for
+the House of Orange." At that time the House of Orange was in exile,
+and Napoleon's brother was king of Holland.
+
+
+    "Feelings of pleasure thrill my inner man--"
+
+
+repeated Minos with gusto. The conductor of the orchestra seized his
+baton and was going to play, "Hail to the Emperor." Many stood up in
+readiness to escape in case of danger.
+
+In the meantime the prisoner was screaming as if he were possessed;
+but the two Italian police that Napoleon had brought with him could
+not understand a word.
+
+The emperor himself had forgotten that he had called for orange water
+and was now engrossed in a military map.
+
+"Qu' a-t-il?" he seemed to be asking the lady next to him.
+
+Minos had begun again and was once more repeating his assurance that
+"feelings of pleasure thrill----"
+
+Walter noted that the grown-up members of the Holsma party did not
+pay the slightest attention to the play.
+
+"If she doesn't come soon, I'm going," Mevrouw Holsma repeated.
+
+"Perhaps she's sitting further back in the emperor's box, where we
+can't see her."
+
+"I've heard that in Paris she never stays fifteen minutes in the same
+place. Maybe we shall find her somewhere else," remarked another.
+
+"I am not going to wait but five minutes longer. My little Erich is
+worth more to me than a thousand cousins----"
+
+"Of the king," added Holsma.
+
+Walter had thought that they meant Femke. What, then, could be so
+interesting about the princess? The boxes were full of them.
+
+At the close of the third act Mevrouw Holsma left with Uncle Sybrand,
+who was to return with Femke. "If she will come," he said. "For she
+cares nothing for such a fuss."
+
+Walter knew better. Uncle Sybrand ought to have seen her in the
+"Juniper Berry." But a knight tells no tales.
+
+Old Minos is insanely in love with Ismene, who is so beautiful
+and virtuous. Scylla is insanely in love with Minos, who is old and
+dignified. Ismene is in love with Focus, who is a hero; and, possibly,
+Focus loves Ismene, though he does not treat her quite gallantly. He
+says to her:
+
+
+    "Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"
+
+
+The tumult on Mount Olympus began afresh. Had the rebellious
+confectioner returned? All eyes were directed toward the gallery. A
+policeman in uniform was seen remonstrating in vain with some men
+on the front seat. In order to make them understand his French, or
+Italian, he was pulling at their arms. They were to understand that
+he did not want to arrest them, or kill them, but merely wanted them
+to give up their seats.
+
+
+    "Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"
+
+
+"Qu' y a-t-il encore?" asked the emperor again; and, when one of the
+chamberlains answered his question, he laughed heartily. Heads were
+together everywhere. Something interesting was going forward on Mount
+Olympus. People whispered and tittered and laughed outright. Their
+eyes were fastened on the gallery. Even the emperor stood up and
+leaned out of his box. But it did no good: he could not see around
+the corner. He was surprised at this.
+
+The countess-palatine, however, had got to the bottom of the
+matter. She was exchanging telegraphic messages with someone in the
+background on Mount Olympus. No one was thinking of Rotgans' play.
+
+She was greeting someone with that famous fan. Whom? The rebellious
+confectioner? With arms extended she was testifying that there was
+something extraordinary up there among that rabble.
+
+
+    "Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"
+
+
+The countess-palatine threw off all restraint, and laughed and
+laughed. After the emperor had laughed hilarity was permissible. Her
+pleasure was beyond her control.
+
+I should have to have a double pen to report what Uncle Sybrand said
+on his return, and, at the same time, reproduce the exclamation that
+escaped Walter, who was looking towards the gallery with eyes and
+mouth wide open.
+
+"Where is Femke?" asked Holsma.
+
+"She didn't want to come," replied Uncle Sybrand. "Just as I said."
+
+"There she is!" cried Walter.
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Femke, M'neer, Femke, Femke--that is Femke! And she----"
+
+The girl above had taken hold of the policeman by the collar and,
+pushing him to one side, had pressed forward to the front row. There
+she had seated herself on the laps of the fellows the policeman had
+been negotiating with in vain.
+
+"It is Femke, M'neer. If only they don't hurt her!"
+
+Again the emperor stood up and stared at Mount Olympus. He saw the girl
+with the North Holland cap and nodded to her. The countess-palatine
+greeted again with her fan, as if she would congratulate her on
+securing the seat.
+
+"But, M'neer, it is Femke," cried Walter, amazed that he received
+no answer.
+
+Even Holsma and Sybrand were surprised, but not so much so as Walter.
+
+"Now, children," said Holsma, "you can tell your mother that we saw
+her." And to Walter he continued, "That girl is a relation of ours."
+
+"Yes, Femke!"
+
+"No, that isn't her name; and----"
+
+"M'neer, don't I know Femke?"
+
+That sounded quite different from what Walter had said that evening
+when he "denied" her.
+
+The girl's big blue eyes, roving about the hall, suddenly fell on
+Walter. She bent over, looked him attentively in the face, then nodded
+to him and threw him a kiss.
+
+At least, he thought it was that way; and it was that way. But everyone
+in the parquet thought that the kiss had been intended for him. Folk
+of quality were annoyed at the insolence of the peasant wench; while
+more "sporty" persons returned the attention.
+
+Soon hissing was heard. The news had leaked out that Princess Erika,
+the cousin of the king, had dressed in the national costume to show
+her affection for the people.
+
+"Don't you believe it, M'neer? I tell you that is Femke," Walter
+assured him with tears in his eyes.
+
+"No, no, my boy. That girl is not Femke."
+
+"But, she greeted me!"
+
+"You saw the emperor greet her; and you know he would not salute
+a wash-girl."
+
+That was perhaps true; but it was hard for Walter to accept it. And,
+on the other hand, it was just as hard for him to believe that the
+princess was a cousin of the Holsmas.
+
+Again he imagined that the girl was nodding to him and motioning her
+lips. It looked to him as if she said: "My brother!" Walter lisped
+the words after her and pressed both hands to his breast.
+
+Yes, now he had it! They considered him a little daft and wanted
+to cure him of his fixed idea. That would explain the visit to the
+theatre and also Femke's alleged unwillingness to come with Uncle
+Sybrand. But--how did she dare to interfere with the policeman? And
+the greeting from the emperor? And how did Holsma know that he had
+"denied" Femke, and that her presence could threaten his peace of mind?
+
+"Oh, M'neer, let Femke sit here! I will be perfectly quiet. I am so
+afraid she will get hurt up there among those men."
+
+Holsma looked at him wistfully. After all, could Kaatje have been
+right about it? He sought to distract Walter's attention by referring
+to other things; but it was useless.
+
+"All right," said Holsma at last "I just wanted to tease you a
+little. Femke is sitting up there, because she--doesn't wish to sit
+here. She thinks that it wouldn't be proper, because she's only a
+wash-girl. She's afraid we would be ashamed. You see?"
+
+"M'neer, no one need be ashamed to sit by her. Not even the emperor."
+
+"Yes, yes," agreed Holsma. "Quite so. Femke is a brave girl and
+doesn't need to cringe before anybody. Watch the play, my boy."
+
+Walter was willing to do what the doctor said, but not without taking
+leave of that glorious apparition. He looked up; and she smiled to
+him again. Then she took from her breast a rose branch, with three
+buds on it, held it a moment between the forefinger and thumb of her
+left hand, pointed to Walter with her right and let it fall.
+
+The rosebuds landed on the bald pate of a stout gentleman near the
+Holsma party. He seized them and examined them admiringly; but, before
+he could decide what to do with them, Walter had sprung over half a
+dozen chairs and deprived him of the precious property. With a glance
+toward Olympus, Walter pressed the roses to his lips. Princess Erika
+nodded approval; and the playful countess-palatine applauded lustily.
+
+That was more than Walter could bear. He had never forgiven himself
+for denying her; but she, the noble, the big-hearted, the majestic
+one!--she had proclaimed her pardon publicly before the people. And
+that was why she preferred to sit in the gallery. She had washed
+away the black spots from his soul; she had restored his soiled
+chivalry. These thoughts flashed through Walter's mind like lightning.
+
+He sank to the floor in a faint. But was it any wonder?
+
+The Holsmas took him home with them for the night; and another message
+was sent to Juffrouw Pieterse.
+
+"Don't you see, Stoffel? Just as I said! I don't care if everybody
+knows it. He's simply living at Dr. Holsma's. Trudie, don't forget when
+Leentje goes to the grocer's---- Upon my soul, he's at Dr. Holsma's
+all the time!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+The next morning, Sunday, the doctor invited Walter into his study. He
+spoke to him sympathetically and encouraged the boy to lay his case
+before him; though he avoided everything that might make Walter believe
+that his experiences were anything extraordinary. He already knew
+more about it than Walter could tell. Even Walter's adventure with
+Juffrouw Laps was perfectly transparent to him. There was nothing
+lost to him because of the boy's lack of skill in handling the story.
+
+While Walter poured out to him his inner experiences, Holsma listened
+quietly, as if it was all familiar to him. Walter's reverence and
+passion for the good he interpreted as a commonplace phenomenon
+incident to budding youth. He treated the boy's love for Femke as an
+ordinary matter. He admitted that it had been exactly the same way
+with him when he was a boy--a method that few parents and educators
+seem to be familiar with.
+
+"Certainly, certainly, my boy. In such moods a fellow would like
+to be everywhere at the same time, ruling, regulating and putting
+things into order. He feels that he's responsible for everything;
+and it hurts him to see so much crookedness in the world. I know very
+well how it is. But you must consider the means and remedies at your
+disposal. How are you going to begin to improve things?"
+
+Walter was silent.
+
+"Do you think that everyone is bad? I suppose you hardly think
+that. There are plenty of people in the world who wish for the same
+things that you are worrying about. Why don't they change the world?"
+
+Again Walter was silent. The very simplicity with which Holsma put
+the question disconcerted him.
+
+"I will try to help you out. Do you believe that I am a good man?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" cried Walter enthusiastically.
+
+"You think so? Well, I think so too. I should be ashamed not to be
+able to say that. Why don't I reform the world? You often speak of
+Africa. That's because you don't know that country, my boy. And I, who
+am a good man, have not abolished slavery. Why not, do you suppose?"
+
+Walter returned no answer. Holsma was busy with a surgical
+operation. Is it any wonder that the patient tried to withdraw the
+member that was being cut away?
+
+"I will present the matter to you differently. Do you hear that
+knocking and hammering? Listen! That comes from the blacksmith's shop
+over there. It isn't so bad on Sunday; but you can easily imagine
+that the noise sometimes disturbs me."
+
+"In case of sickness!"
+
+"Yes, and also when I wish to think. And then I should like to see the
+blacksmiths swept away--quick--just like that! But why don't I do it?"
+
+"Because--because you can't, M'neer."
+
+"Quite right. For the same reason I have not yet corrected any of the
+wrongs in Africa. Nor in Asia; nor in America; nor in other countries
+that I might mention. But yesterday evening, when you were taken sick
+in the theatre, I brought you home with me and put you to bed. Then
+I sent a messenger to quiet your mother. That was my duty, wasn't it?
+
+"No thanks, my boy. It seemed to me to be my duty; and I did
+it--because I could. Whatever is impossible, is not my duty; and
+that's the reason I don't take those blacksmiths between my thumb
+and forefinger and transport them to some other clime. For the same
+reason I don't fret over doings in Africa. Impossible duty is no duty;
+and running after the impossible interferes with the performance of
+real duties. At school did you ever fail to know a lesson?"
+
+"Oh yes, very often! But not lately; because Femke----"
+
+"Leave Femke out of account for the present. I may say something
+about her another time. When you were neglecting your books at school,
+you were thinking of other things, things far removed from your work.
+
+"That is a mistake that many young people make--don't be offended:
+I did the same thing--and usually on account of laziness. It is more
+convenient to imagine one's self soaring over the distant mountain
+top than to lift a foot and step over the stone just in front of
+one. Of all the million things that you would like to do there are
+only a very few that you can do. Busy yourself with these few. That
+is the way to succeed. Whatever comes up, always ask: 'What is my
+immediate duty?' Will you promise to do this?"
+
+Walter gave Holsma his hand on it.
+
+"And you would like to know more, my boy? I would, too. What lies
+before you? Well, you are behind in your studies. Other boys of your
+age know more. We will speak of that again, however; for that is
+something to be attended to later, and does not come under the head of
+immediate duty. That smattering of Latin, for which you envy William,
+you can acquire in a few months, when once you've learned how to use
+your will. The enemies you have to fight now are quite different from
+the knights of your romances. Do not underestimate the difficulties
+you will have to contend with. That might result in your defeat. You
+must learn to use your intellectual faculties at will; and keep a firm
+grip on 'Fancy,' or else she will throw you head over heels. Dreaming
+is not living."
+
+Walter nodded assent.
+
+"True manliness," Holsma continued, "means, to do what has to be done,
+no difference how insignificant it may be. What would you think of a
+lot of knights, who let tramps beat them over the heads because their
+code of honor did not allow them to fight with tramps? You are going
+into business now: come to me in a month and tell me if you have kept
+your word. Then we will speak further; but--that first! Will you?"
+
+"Certainly I shall keep my word, M'neer. But, M'neer, may I ask----?"
+
+"About Femke? Well, that is a good, brave girl. She's a cousin
+of mine."
+
+"But how did she happen to be----?"
+
+"The young lady in the theatre wasn't Femke. That was Princess
+Erika. We wanted to see her because her ancestors were related to
+ours. You rogue, you! There was nothing special about that."
+
+"A real princess?"
+
+"Yes; and Femke is a real wash-girl. I hope that Princess Erika has as
+admirable a character as Femke. But don't attribute too much importance
+to this, my boy. Such differences in related families are of frequent
+occurrence, whether one notices them, or not. There was a time when
+Erika's forefathers dressed themselves in skins; and mine did the
+same. We don't know whether she is aware that she has relations here
+or not. Uncle Sybrand found out--well, he takes a sort of pleasure
+in tracing out the identity of opposites. Rightly understood, the
+world is smaller than you imagine; everything is a link in the same
+sequence. Who knows but that you may turn the course of history
+to-morrow, when you go to work for--what is the style of the firm?"
+
+"Ouwetyd & Kopperlith."
+
+"Yes, when you go to work for Ouwetyd & Kopperlith. But, whether it's
+to be an historical event, or not, perform your immediate duty. That
+is the chivalrous, manly thing for you to do--if you will take my
+advice. Will you?"
+
+"Yes, M'neer! But--Femke?"
+
+"There you go again! She has nothing to do with your immediate
+duty. The lady that you must attend upon and serve faithfully is--who?"
+
+"Do you mean 'Business'?"
+
+"Right. If you are determined to know more about Femke, I will tell
+you what she says. She says that for the present you must think of
+nothing but your work."
+
+"Oh, I will, I will!"
+
+"For about ten years."
+
+"Ten years? Ten?"
+
+"Yes, that is what she said when she heard how little you know and
+how little you can do."
+
+"Ten years?"
+
+"Yes, that is what she said. Perhaps eight, perhaps twelve, perhaps
+twenty. One cannot say exactly beforehand. You understand that,
+don't you?"
+
+"Ten years!"
+
+"So she said."
+
+"I will!"
+
+"Good. It will give me pleasure--and Femke, too. Don't imagine it
+will be particularly difficult. Ten years ago thousands began just
+where you will begin to-morrow; and they are still alive. So, you see,
+it can be done. Besides, think only of the first month; and then the
+time will seem shorter. I shall expect you to come to see me in about
+a month; then we shall have more to say."
+
+Before Walter left, he promised again to banish all boyish follies
+from his thoughts. But he put away the rosebuds; and he kept them.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WALTER PIETERSE ***
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+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Walter Pieterse, by Multatuli</div>
+<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Walter Pieterse</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Multatuli</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Translator: Hubert Evans</div>
+<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 29, 2009 [eBook #30135]<br />
+[Most recently updated: January 15, 2021]</div>
+<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: The Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WALTER PIETERSE ***</div>
+
+    <div class="front">
+      <div class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <p class="aligncenter">
+          Walter Pieterse
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="titlePage">
+        <h1 class="docTitle">
+          Walter Pieterse
+        </h1>
+        <h2 class="docTitle">
+          A Story of Holland
+        </h2>
+        <h2 class="byline">
+          By<br /> <span class="docAuthor">Multatuli</span><br /> (Eduard Douwes
+          Dekker)<br /> Translated by<br /> <span class="docAuthor">Hubert Evans,
+          Ph.D.</span>
+        </h2>
+        <h2 class="docImprint">
+          New York<br /> Friderici &amp; Gareis<br /> 6 East Seventeenth Street
+        </h2>
+      </div>
+      <div class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <p class="aligncenter">
+          Copyright, 1904,<br /> By<br /> <span class="smallcaps">Friderici &amp;
+          Gareis</span> <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e127" href="#xd0e127">v</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Preface
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Most of us know that The Hague is somewhere in Holland; and we all
+          know that Queen Wilhelmina takes a beautiful picture; but to how many
+          of us has it occurred that the land of Spinoza and Rembrandt is still
+          running a literary shop?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How many of us have ever heard of Eduard Douwes Dekker? Very few, I
+          fear, except professional critics. And yet, the man who, forty years
+          ago, became famous as Multatuli (I have borne much), was not only the
+          greatest figure in the modern literature of the Netherlands, but one
+          of the most powerful and original writers in the literature of the
+          world. An English critic has called him the Heine of Holland; Anatole
+          France calls him the Voltaire of the Netherlands.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Eduard Douwes Dekker was born in 1820, at Amsterdam, his father being
+          the captain of a merchantman trading in the Dutch colonies. At the age
+          of eighteen Dekker sailed on his father&rsquo;s vessel for the East
+          Indies, determined to abandon the business career that had been mapped
+          out for him and enter the colonial service. In 1839 he received a
+          clerkship in the civil service at Batavia. He now remained in the
+          employ of the government for seventeen years, being promoted from one
+          grade to another until he was made Assistant Resident of Lebak in
+          1856. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e137" href="#xd0e137">vi</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In this important position he used his influence to better the
+          condition of the natives; but, to his sorrow, he soon found that he
+          did not have the support of his superiors. What he conceived to be
+          right clashed with the line of conduct he was expected to follow. In a
+          rash moment of &ldquo;righteous indignation&rdquo; he handed in his
+          resignation; and it was accepted.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This hasty step put an end to a brilliant political career and
+          entailed upon Dekker years of disappointment and hardship. Seeing that
+          he was pursuing the wrong method to help either the Javanese, or
+          himself, he immediately tried to get reinstated, but without success.
+          In 1857 he returned to Holland and applied to the home government,
+          hoping to be vindicated and restored to his post. Again he was
+          disappointed. The government offered him another desirable position;
+          but, as it was a matter of principle with Dekker, he declined it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When he saw that it was useless to importune the government further,
+          Dekker made his appeal to the people in &ldquo;Max Havelaar&rdquo;
+          (1860). The book was an instant success and made the name of Multatuli
+          famous. Through the perfidy of a supposed friend, however, Dekker
+          failed to get very substantial material rewards from this work. For
+          ten years yet he was struggling with poverty.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Bohemian life that Dekker was now compelled to live&mdash;his
+          family was on the sufferance of friends&mdash;estranged him from his
+          wife and strengthened what some might call an unfortunate&mdash;or, at
+          least, an untimely&mdash;literary friendship that Dekker had formed
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e146" href="#xd0e146">vii</a>]</span>with
+          a certain Miss Mimi Schepel, of The Hague. The spiritual affinity
+          between the two soon developed a passion that neither could resist.
+          This estimable lady, who afterwards became Dekker&rsquo;s second wife,
+          is still living, and has edited Dekker&rsquo;s letters in nine
+          volumes. Dekker died in February, 1887, at his home in
+          Nieder-Ingelheim, where he had lived for several years.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The &ldquo;Woutertje Pieterse&rdquo; story was first published in
+          Dekker&rsquo;s seven volume work entitled &ldquo;Ideen.&rdquo; Here it
+          is sandwiched in between miscellaneous sketches, essays and treatises,
+          being scattered all the way from Vol. I to Vol. VII. The story falls
+          naturally into two parts, of which the present volume is the first
+          part. The second part, written in a different key, deals with &ldquo;Walter&rsquo;s
+          Apprenticeship.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A good deal of the flax, or silk, of his Chinaman&rsquo;s pigtail, to
+          use Dekker&rsquo;s form of expression, I have unraveled as being
+          extraneous matter. However, despite these omissions, it is quite
+          possible that some very sensitive person may still find objectionable
+          allusions in the book. If so, I must refer that one to the shade of
+          Multatuli. From his own admission his shoulders were evidently broad;
+          and, no doubt, they will be able to bear the additional strain.
+        </p>
+        <p class="alignright">
+          <span class="smallcaps">Hubert Evans.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <span class="smallcaps">New York City</span>,
+        </p>
+        <p style="text-indent: 4em; ">
+          <i>November, 1904</i>. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e164"
+          href="#xd0e164">ix</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="toc" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Contents
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          &nbsp; <span class="tocPagenum">Page</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch1">Chapter I</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          The origin of the story: regarding poetry, incurable love, false hair,
+          and the hero of the story&mdash;The dangers of fame and the advantage
+          of the upper shelf&mdash;The Chinaman&rsquo;s pigtail, and the collar
+          of humanity <span class="tocPagenum"> 1</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch2">Chapter II</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          An Italian robber on the &ldquo;Buitensingel&rdquo; in Amsterdam&mdash;The
+          bitter suffering of the virtuous Amalia&mdash;Wax candles, the
+          palisades of morality&mdash;The cunning of the little Hallemans&mdash;The
+          limitations of space <span class="tocPagenum">9</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch3">Chapter III</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          The difference between a sugar bowl and a Bible&mdash;Leentje&rsquo;s
+          virtues and defects&mdash;An unfounded suspicion against Pennewip&rsquo;s
+          honor <span class="tocPagenum"> 18</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch4">Chapter IV</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          The profound silence of Juffrouw Laps&mdash;Stoffel&rsquo;s sermon&mdash;Walter&rsquo;s
+          fidelity to Glorioso&mdash;The last king of Athens&mdash;Ruined
+          stomachs and bursted ear-drums <span class="tocPagenum">24</span>
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e209" href="#xd0e209">x</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch5">Chapter V</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          How one may become a great man&mdash;The cleverness of M&rsquo;sieu
+          Millaire&mdash;Versifying and the art of classifying everything&mdash;Hobby-horses
+          <span class="tocPagenum"> 27</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch6">Chapter VI</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Preparations for a party&mdash;The assignment of r&ocirc;les&mdash;The
+          conflict between wishing and being&mdash;Some tricks of fancy&mdash;The
+          two sawmills&mdash;Amalia and the ducks <span class="tocPagenum">34</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch7">Chapter VII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Poetry and wigs&mdash;The vexation and despair of the latter <span
+          class="tocPagenum">42</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch8">Chapter VIII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          A tea-evening, and how it began&mdash;Some gaps in the author&rsquo;s
+          knowledge&mdash;Stoffel&rsquo;s zo&ouml;logical joke&mdash;The cause
+          of the last Punic war&mdash;And the advantage of smoking <span
+          class="tocPagenum">48</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch9">Chapter IX</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Echoes of the last Punic war&mdash;The defeat of Hannibal (Laps) by
+          Scipio (Pennewip) <span class="tocPagenum"> 61</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch10">Chapter X</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Causes of the tedious peace in Europe, showing the value of a &ldquo;tea-evening&rdquo;
+          as a study&mdash;Specimens of school-verse concluded&mdash;Suitable
+          for society poets and clever children <span class="tocPagenum">68</span>
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e264" href="#xd0e264">xi</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch11">Chapter XI</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Report on the condition of the leading characters after the
+          catastrophe&mdash;Walter again: a character-study <span
+          class="tocPagenum">75</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch12">Chapter XII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Leentje as a comforter and questioner&mdash;Prince Walter and his
+          dominions <span class="tocPagenum">80</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch13">Chapter XIII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Convincing proofs of Walter&rsquo;s improvement&mdash;His first
+          invitation&mdash;A study in love&mdash;Paradise and Peri <span
+          class="tocPagenum">87</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch14">Chapter XIV</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Great changes in the Pieterse family&mdash;Walter becomes
+          poet-laureate at the court of Juffrouw Laps&mdash;The mountains of
+          Asia&mdash;The bridge, Glorioso, and love&mdash;again <span
+          class="tocPagenum">102</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch15">Chapter XV</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Walter&rsquo;s dream&mdash;A swell coachman&mdash;Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s
+          difficulties <span class="tocPagenum">117</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch16">Chapter XVI</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Femke hunts for Walter, and finds him under peculiar circumstances&mdash;Her
+          adventures by the way <span class="tocPagenum">125</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch17">Chapter XVII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          The widower&rsquo;s birthday&mdash;Klaasje&rsquo;s poem, and how a
+          surprise may involve further surprises <span class="tocPagenum">132</span>
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e328" href="#xd0e328">xii</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch18">Chapter XVIII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Walter&rsquo;s recovery&mdash;The doctor&rsquo;s pictures&mdash;Amsterdam
+          dramaturgy <span class="tocPagenum"> 138</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch19">Chapter XIX</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Pastors, sermons, and Juffrouw Laps&mdash;Chocolate, timidity, and
+          love&mdash;The fire that didn&rsquo;t break out&mdash;Some details of
+          religious belief <span class="tocPagenum">150</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch20">Chapter XX</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Our hero calls on the doctor&mdash;Some strange happenings&mdash;How
+          Walter delivered his present <span class="tocPagenum">161</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch21">Chapter XXI</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Ophelia reaches her destination, and Femke becomes a queen&mdash;Walter&rsquo;s
+          first experience &ldquo;proposing&rdquo;&mdash;Choosing a profession
+          <span class="tocPagenum">170</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch22">Chapter XXII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Walter enters the real world&mdash;The firm Motto, Business &amp; Co.&mdash;The
+          technique of the novel&mdash;And the snuff of the Romans <span
+          class="tocPagenum">180</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch23">Chapter XXIII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          How one may become a &ldquo;prodigal&rdquo; by studying the story of
+          the Prodigal Son <span class="tocPagenum"> 194</span> <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e383" href="#xd0e383">xiii</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch24">Chapter XXIV</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Why Walter did not see Femke&mdash;The worldliness of a servant of the
+          church&mdash;The secret of Father Jansen&rsquo;s deafness in his left
+          ear <span class="tocPagenum"> 201</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch25">Chapter XXV</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Kings and doughnuts&mdash;How the masses soar and fall&mdash;Walter&rsquo;s
+          cowardice and remorse of conscience&mdash;A good remedy for the blues
+          <span class="tocPagenum"> 211</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch26">Chapter XXVI</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Our hero retires thinking of Princess Erika, to be aroused by robbers
+          and murderers, who are in collusion with Juffrouw Laps <span
+          class="tocPagenum">225</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch27">Chapter XXVII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Walter alone with a pious lady, or Juffrouw Laps on the war-path <span
+          class="tocPagenum">240</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch28">Chapter XXVIII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          A midnight kiss&mdash;A wonderful statue in the &ldquo;Juniper Berry&rdquo;&mdash;Republicans
+          and True Dutch hearts&mdash;A sailor with&mdash;Femke? <span
+          class="tocPagenum"> 245</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch29">Chapter XXIX</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Sunrise on the &ldquo;Dam&rdquo;&mdash;An exciting encounter with a
+          water-nymph&mdash;A letter from heaven&mdash;America, a haven for
+          prodigal sons <span class="tocPagenum">260</span> <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="xd0e438" href="#xd0e438">xiv</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch30">Chapter XXX</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          A message from Femke, which Walter fails to understand&mdash;Dr.
+          Holsma to the rescue&mdash;Femke and family portraits&mdash;Femke, and
+          once more Femke <span class="tocPagenum"> 270</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch31">Chapter XXXI</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          Stoffel&rsquo;s view of the matter&mdash;Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s
+          distress, and Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s elation&mdash;Elephants and
+          butterflies, and Kaatje&rsquo;s conception of heredity <span
+          class="tocPagenum"> 279</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch32">Chapter XXXII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          A theatrical performance under difficulties&mdash;The contest between
+          Napoleon and King Minos of Crete&mdash;A Goddess on Mt. Olympus&mdash;Kisses
+          and rosebuds <span class="tocPagenum">286</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocChapter">
+          <a href="#ch33">Chapter XXXIII</a>
+        </p>
+        <p class="tocArgument">
+          <span class="smallcaps">Conclusion</span> <span class="tocPagenum">298</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+    </div>
+    <p>
+      <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb1" href="#pb1">1</a>]</span>
+    </p>
+    <div class="body">
+      <div id="ch1" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="super">
+          Walter Pieterse
+        </h2>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter I
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          I don&rsquo;t know the year; but, since the reader will be interested
+          to know the time when this story begins, I will give him a few facts
+          to serve as landmarks.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          My mother complained that provisions were dear, and fuel as well. So
+          it must have been before the discovery of Political Economy. Our
+          servant-girl married the barber&rsquo;s assistant, who had only one
+          leg. &ldquo;Such a saving of shoe-leather,&rdquo; the good little soul
+          argued. But from this fact one might infer that the science of
+          Political Economy had already been discovered.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At all events, it was a long time ago. Amsterdam had no sidewalks,
+          import duties were still levied, in some civilized countries there
+          were still gallows, and people didn&rsquo;t die every day of
+          nervousness. Yes, it was a long time ago.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The <i>Hartenstraat</i>! I have never comprehended why this street
+          should be called thus. Perhaps it is an error, and one ought to write
+          <i>Hertenstraat</i>, or something else. I have never found more
+          &ldquo;heartiness&rdquo; there than elsewhere; besides, &ldquo;harts&rdquo;
+          were <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb2" href="#pb2">2</a>]</span>not
+          particularly plentiful, although the place could boast of a poulterer
+          and dealer in venison.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I haven&rsquo;t been there for a long time, and I only remember that
+          the <i>Straat</i> connects two main canal-streets, canals that I would
+          fill up if I had the power to make Amsterdam one of the most beautiful
+          cities of Europe.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          My predilection for Amsterdam, our metropolis, does not make me blind
+          to her faults. Among these I would mention first her complete
+          inability to serve as the scene of things romantic. One finds here no
+          masked Dominos on the street, the common people are everywhere open to
+          inspection, no Ghetto, no Templebar, no Chinese quarter, no mysterious
+          courtyard. Whoever commits murder is hanged; and the girls are called
+          &ldquo;Mietje&rdquo; and &ldquo;Jansje&rdquo;&mdash;everything prose.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It requires courage to begin a story in a place ending with &ldquo;dam.&rdquo;
+          There it is difficult to have &ldquo;Emeranties&rdquo; and &ldquo;H&eacute;loises&rdquo;;
+          but even these would be of little use, since all of these belles have
+          already been profaned.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How do the French authors manage, though, to dress up their &ldquo;Margots&rdquo;
+          and &ldquo;Marions&rdquo; as ideals and protect their &ldquo;Henris&rdquo;
+          and <span class="corr" id="xd0e511" title="Not in source">&ldquo;</span>Ernestes<span
+          class="corr" id="xd0e514" title="Not in source">&rdquo;</span> from
+          the trite and trivial? These last remind one of <i lang="fr">M&rsquo;sieu
+          Henri</i> or <i lang="fr"> M&rsquo;sieu Erneste</i> just about like
+          our castle embankments remind one of filthy water.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Goethe was a courageous man: Gretchen, Kl&auml;rchen&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But I, in the Hartenstraat!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          However, I am not writing a romance; and even if <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb3" href="#pb3">3</a>]</span>I should write one, I don&rsquo;t
+          see why I shouldn&rsquo;t publish it as a true story. For it is a true
+          story, the story of one who in his youth was in love with a sawmill
+          and had to endure this torture for a long time.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For love is torture, even if it is only love for a sawmill.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It will be seen that the story is going to be quite simple, in fact
+          too frail to stand alone. So here and there I am going to plait
+          something in with the thread of the narrative, just as the Chinaman
+          does with his pigtail when it is too thin. He has no <i lang="fr">Eau
+          de Lob</i> or oil from Macassar&mdash;but I admit that I have never
+          found at Macassar any berries which yielded the required oil.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To begin, in the Hartenstraat was a book-shop and circulating library.
+          A small boy with a city complexion stood on the step and seemed to be
+          unable to open the door. It was evident that he was trying to do
+          something that was beyond his strength.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He stretched out his hand towards the door knob repeatedly, but every
+          time he interrupted this motion either by stopping to pull
+          unnecessarily at a big square-cut collar that rested on his shoulders
+          like a yoke, or by uselessly lifting his hand to screen an ingenuous
+          cough.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was apparently lost in the contemplation of the pictures that
+          covered the panes of glass in the door, turning them into a model
+          chart of inconceivable animals, four-cornered trees and impossible
+          soldiers. He was glancing continually to one side, like a criminal who
+          fears that he is going to be caught in the act. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb4" href="#pb4">4</a>]</span>It was manifest that he had
+          something in view which must be concealed from passers-by, and from
+          posterity, for that matter. His left hand was thrust under the skirts
+          of his little coat, clutching convulsively at something concealed in
+          his trousers pocket. To look at him one would have thought that Walter
+          contemplated a burglary, or something of the kind.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For his name was Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It is a fortunate thing that it occurred to me to relate his history;
+          and now I consider it my duty to report that he was entirely innocent
+          of any burglarious or murderous intentions.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I only wish I could clear him of other sins as easily as this. The
+          object he was turning and twisting in his left breeches pocket was not
+          a house-key, nor a jimmy, nor a club, nor a tomahawk, nor any infernal
+          machine: It was a small piece of paper containing fourteen stivers,
+          which he had raised on his New Testament with Psalms at the grocer&rsquo;s
+          on the &ldquo;Ouwebrug&rdquo;; and the thing that held him fast on the
+          Hartenstraat was nothing more or less than his entrance into the magic
+          world of romance. He was going to read &ldquo;Glorioso.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Glorioso! Reader, there are many imitations, but only one Glorioso.
+          All the Rinaldos and Fra Diavolos are not to <span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e554" title="Not in source">be</span> mentioned in the same
+          breath with Glorioso, this incomparable hero who carried away
+          countesses by the dozen, plundered popes and cardinals as if they were
+          ordinary fallible people, and made a testament-thief of Walter
+          Pieterse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To be sure, Glorioso was not to blame for this last, certainly not.
+          One ought to be ashamed to be a <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb5"
+          href="#pb5">5</a>]</span>hero, or a genius, or even a robber, if on
+          this account one is to be held responsible for all the crimes that may
+          be committed years afterwards in the effort to get possession of one&rsquo;s
+          history.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I myself object to any accusation of complicity in those evil deeds
+          that are committed after my death in quenching the thirst for
+          knowledge of my fate. Indeed, I shall never be deterred from a famous
+          career merely by the thought that some one may sell the New Testament
+          to get hold of the &ldquo;Life and Deeds of Multatuli.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You rascal, what are you loitering around here for? If you want
+          anything, come in; if you don&rsquo;t, make yourself scarce.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And now Walter had to go in, or else abandon his cherished Glorioso.
+          But the man who bent over the counter and twisted himself like a crane
+          to open the door and snarl these words at our young hero did not have
+          a face that advised anything like turning back. He was angry. At first
+          Walter had not had the courage to go in; now he did not dare to turn
+          back. He felt himself drawn in. It was as if the book-shop swallowed
+          him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Glorioso, if you please, M&rsquo;neer, and here&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          He drew that infernal machine from his pocket. &ldquo;And here is
+          money&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For he had learned from his schoolmates, who had infected him with
+          this craving for romance, that at the circulating library strangers
+          must deposit a forfeit.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The shopman seemed to regard himself as &ldquo;sufficiently protected&rdquo;
+          by the sum produced. He took <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb6"
+          href="#pb6">6</a>]</span>down a small volume, which was greasy and
+          well worn, and bore both within and without the traces of much unclean
+          enjoyment.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I am certain that the &ldquo;Sermons of Pastor Splitvesel,&rdquo;
+          which stood undisturbed on the top shelf and looked down
+          contemptuously on the literature of the day, would have been ashamed
+          to bring their spotless binding into contact with so much
+          uncleanliness. But it is not difficult to remain clean in the upper
+          row. I find, therefore, that the &ldquo;sermons&rdquo; were unjust;
+          and the same is true of many sermons.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After Walter had given his name to the man in a trembling voice, he
+          stuck the reward of his misdeed under his coat and hurried out the
+          door, like a cat making away with the prey for which it has waited for
+          hours.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter ran and ran, and did not know where to go. He couldn&rsquo;t go
+          home; he was watched too closely there,&mdash;which was not very
+          difficult, as the space was rather limited.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He selected quiet streets and finally came to a gateway that he
+          remembered to have seen several times. It was a low, smooth arch,
+          where it always smelled like ashes. Here, as a truant, he had taken
+          that leap! He was with Franz Halleman, who had dared him to cut sacred
+          studies and jump from the top of this arch. Walter did it just because
+          little Franz had questioned his courage.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To this escapade he was indebted for his great familiarity with the
+          prophet Habakkuk, whose prophecies he had to copy twelve times as a
+          penalty. Further, the sprain that he got in his big toe on that <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb7" href="#pb7">7</a>]</span>occasion gave
+          him a good barometer in that organ, which always warned him of
+          approaching rain.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In a certain sense Habakkuk is to be regarded as marking a transition
+          in Walter&rsquo;s life, <i>viz.</i> from nursery rhymes to books which
+          deal with big people. For some time he had felt his admiration for
+          &ldquo;brave Heinriche&rdquo; to be growing; and he was disgusted with
+          the paper peaches that are distributed as the reward of diligence in
+          the beautiful stories. Of any other peaches he had no knowledge, as
+          the real article was never seen in the houses he visited.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Nothing was more natural than that he should most ardently long to
+          talk with the older schoolboys about the wonders of the real world,
+          where people ride in coaches, devastate cities, marry princesses, and
+          stay up in the evening till after 10 o&rsquo;clock&mdash;even if it
+          isn&rsquo;t a birthday. And then at the table one helps one&rsquo;s
+          self, and may select just whatever one wants to eat. So think
+          children.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Every boy has his heroic age, and humanity, as a whole, has worn the
+          little coat with the big collar.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But how far can this comparison be carried? Where does the identity
+          stop? Will the human race become mature? and more than mature?&mdash;old?
+          Feeble and childish?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How old are we now? Are we boys, youths, men? Or are we already&mdash;&mdash;?
+          No, that would be too unpleasant to think of.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Let us suppose that we are just in the exuberance of youth! We are
+          then no longer children exactly, and still we may hope something of
+          the future.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, of the future,&mdash;when this stifling school atmosphere <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb8" href="#pb8">8</a>]</span>has been blown
+          away. When we shall take pleasure in the short jacket of the boy that
+          comes after us; when people will be at liberty to be born without any
+          legal permit, and will not be reviled for it; when humanity will speak
+          one language; when metaphysics and religion have been forgotten, and
+          knowledge of nature takes the place of noble birth. When we shall have
+          broken away from the nursery stories.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There is some silk for my Chinaman&rsquo;s pigtail. Some will say it
+          is only flax. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb9" href="#pb9">9</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch2" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter II
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Walter thought neither of the heroic age nor of Chinese cues. Without
+          any feeling for the beauty of the landscape, he hurried along till he
+          came to a bridge that spanned a marshy ditch. After looking about
+          carefully to assure himself that he was alone, he selected this bridge
+          for his reading-room, and proceeded at once to devour his robber
+          undisturbed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For a moment I felt tempted to make the reader a participant of Walter&rsquo;s
+          pleasure by giving a sketch of the immortal work that chained the boy&rsquo;s
+          attention. But aside from the fact that I am not very well versed in
+          Glorioso&mdash;which fact of itself, though, would not prevent me from
+          speaking about him&mdash;I have many other things of a more urgent
+          nature to relate, and am compelled therefore to take the reader
+          directly to the Hartenstraat, hoping that he will be able to find his
+          way just as well as if he had crossed the Ouwebrug&mdash;the old
+          bridge.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Suffice it to say that Walter found the book &ldquo;very nice.&rdquo;
+          The virtuous Amalia, in the glare of flaring torches, at the death-bed
+          of her revered mother, in the dismal cypress valley, swearing that her
+          ardent love for the noble robber&mdash;through the horrible trapdoor,
+          the rusty chains, her briny tears&mdash;in a word, it was stirring!
+          And there was more morality in it, too, than in all the insipid
+          imitations. All the members of <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb10"
+          href="#pb10">10</a>]</span>the band were married and wore gloves. In
+          the cave was an altar, with wax tapers; and those chapters in which
+          girls were abducted always ended with a row of most decorous periods,
+          or with mysterious dashes&mdash;which Walter vainly held up to the
+          light in his effort to learn more about it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He read to<span class="corr" id="xd0e622" title="Source: ,">:</span>
+          &ldquo;Die, betrayer!&rdquo; Then it was dark, and he knew that it was
+          time to go home. He was supposed to be taking a walk with the Halleman
+          boys,&mdash;who were &ldquo;such respectable children.&rdquo; With
+          regret he closed the precious volume and hurried away as fast as he
+          could, for he was afraid he was going to get a whipping for staying
+          away so long.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You will never get permission again&rdquo;&mdash;thus he was
+          always threatened on such occasions. But he understood, of course,
+          that they didn&rsquo;t mean it. He knew too well that people like to
+          get rid of the children for a while when they are a little short of
+          space at home. And then the little Hallemans were &ldquo;such
+          extraordinarily respectable children; they lived next to a house with
+          a portico, and recently they had taken off their little caps so
+          politely.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Now, I don&rsquo;t believe that the Hallemans were any more
+          respectable than other boys of Walter&rsquo;s acquaintance; and, as I
+          would like to give some reasons for my belief, I am going to relate an
+          incident that had happened some time before this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter never got any pocket-money. His mother considered this
+          unnecessary, because he got at home everything that he needed. It
+          mortified him to have to wait for an invitation to join in a game of
+          ball with his companions, and then be reminded that he <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb11" href="#pb11">11</a>]</span>had
+          contributed nothing towards buying the ball. In Walter&rsquo;s time
+          that useful instrument of sport cost three doits&mdash;just a trifle.
+          Now I suppose they are more expensive&mdash;but no, cheaper, of
+          course, on account of Political Economy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On many occasions he was depressed by reason of this lack of money. We
+          shall see later whether what his mother said was true, or not: that he
+          received at home everything he needed. It is certain that at home he
+          never had the privilege of doing with some little thing as he pleased,
+          which is very nice for children. And for grown-up people, too.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Hallemans&mdash;who were so especially respectable&mdash;gave him
+          to understand that they had no desire to bear all the expenses. Franz
+          calculated that Walter&rsquo;s friendship had already cost them nine
+          stivers, which I find high&mdash;not for the friendship, but merely as
+          an estimate. Gustave said it was still more; but that is a detail.
+          Gustave, too, had let him have four slate pencils, that he might court
+          &ldquo;the tall Cecilia,&rdquo; who wouldn&rsquo;t have anything to do
+          with him because he wore a jacket stuck in his trousers&mdash;the kind
+          small boys wore then. She accepted the pencils, and then made Gustave
+          a present of them for a kiss.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reproaches of the little Hallemans, who were so very respectable,
+          almost drove Walter to despair.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I have told my mother, but she won&rsquo;t give me anything.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The little Hallemans, who were so respectable, said: &ldquo;What&rsquo;s
+          that you&rsquo;re giving us? You&rsquo;re a parasite.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This was the first time Walter had ever heard the <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb12" href="#pb12">12</a>]</span>word, but he knew what it meant.
+          Nothing sharpens the wits like bitterness of heart.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A parasite, a parasite&mdash;I&rsquo;m a parasite,&rdquo; and
+          he ran off screaming, making a detour in order to avoid the street
+          where Cecilia&rsquo;s father had a second-hand store. Oh, if she had
+          seen him running through the street crying like a baby&mdash;that
+          would have been worse than the breeches pulled up over his jacket!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A parasite, a parasite!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He met lots of grown-up people who perhaps were parasites, but they
+          were not bawling on this account.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Parasite!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He saw a policeman, and caught his breath when he got by him,
+          surprised that the man hadn&rsquo;t arrested him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Parasite!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then came a street-sweeper with his cart, who seemed to rattle that
+          hateful word after him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Our little sufferer remembered that the Halleman boys had once told
+          him what a fortune could be made by peddling peppermint drops. For
+          twenty-four stivers one could buy a big sack full. By selling so and
+          so many for a doit, the profit would be enormous. If one only had the
+          capital to begin! The Hallemans had calculated everything very
+          exactly; for they were not only very respectable, but also very
+          cunning. Cunningness and respectability usually go hand in hand. They
+          had said, all that was needed was the capital. They would attend to
+          laying in the stock, and would assume all responsibility for the sale
+          of the same. If Walter would chip in just a florin, they could raise
+          the rest and all would go well. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb13"
+          href="#pb13">13</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Parasite.... Parasite....
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter slipped a florin from his mother&rsquo;s box of savings and
+          brought it to the Halleman boys, who were so remarkably respectable.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where did you get it?&rdquo; asked Gustave, but careful not to
+          give Walter time to answer, or to fall into an embarrassing silence.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where did you get it?&rdquo;&mdash;without any interrogation
+          point&mdash;&ldquo;fine! Franz and I will each add one like it. That&rsquo;ll
+          make twenty-four, and then we&rsquo;ll buy the peppermints. There&rsquo;s
+          a factory on the <i> Rosengracht</i>&mdash;such a sack for four
+          shillings. Franz and I will do everything. We&rsquo;ll have more
+          opportunity at school, you understand. Christian Kloskamp has already
+          ordered twelve; he&rsquo;ll pay after the holidays. We&rsquo;ll take
+          all the trouble; you needn&rsquo;t do anything, Walter&mdash;and then
+          an equal divide. You can depend upon it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter went home and dreamed of unheard-of wealth. He would put a
+          dollar in his mother&rsquo;s savings-bank, and buy for Cecilia a lead
+          pencil from the man who had picked holes in the wood-work of his wagon
+          with them. So strong were they! That would be something entirely
+          different from those slate pencils; and if the tall Cecilia still
+          wouldn&rsquo;t have him, then&mdash;but Walter did not care to think
+          further. There are abysses along the path of fancy that we do not dare
+          to sound. We see them instinctively, close the eyes and&mdash;I only
+          know that on that evening Walter fell asleep feeling good, expecting
+          soon to have a good conscience over his little theft and hoping that
+          Cecilia would give him a happy heart. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb14" href="#pb14">14</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Alas, alas! Little Walter had made his calculations without taking
+          into consideration the slyness and respectability of the Hallemans.
+          They lay in wait for him the next day as he came from school. Walter,
+          who had painted to himself how they would be panting under the weight
+          of the great sack; Walter, who was so anxious to know if Christian
+          Kloskamp had taken what he had ordered; Walter, who was burning with
+          curiosity as to the success of the venture&mdash;oh, he was bitterly
+          disappointed. Gustave Halleman not only carried no sack of
+          peppermints. What&rsquo;s more, he had a very grave face. And little
+          Franz looked like virtue itself.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, how is everything?&rdquo; Walter asked, but without
+          saying a word. He was too curious not to ask, and too fearful to
+          express the question otherwise than by opening his mouth and poking
+          out his face.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you know, Walter, we&rsquo;ve been thinking about
+          the matter; and there&rsquo;s a lot to be said against the plan.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Poor Walter! In that moment both his heart and his conscience suffered
+          shipwreck. Away with your dreams of ethical vindication, away with the
+          gaping money-boxes of mothers&mdash;away, lead pencil that was to bore
+          a hole in the hard heart of the tall Cecilia&mdash;gone, gone, gone,
+          everything lost.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You see, Walter, the mint-drops might melt.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Y-e-s,&rdquo; sobbed Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And Christian Kloskamp, who ordered twelve&mdash;don&rsquo;t
+          you know&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Y-e-s.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I wonder if Christian was likely to melt too. <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb15" href="#pb15">15</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He is leaving school, and will certainly not return after the
+          holidays.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;H-e-e i-i-s?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and for that reason, and also because there are not
+          anything like so many to the pound as we had thought. Mint-drops are
+          heavy. We&rsquo;ve calculated everything, Franz and I.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; added little Franz, with the seriousness of one
+          giving important advice in a time of great danger, &ldquo;the things
+          are very heavy at present. Feel this one; but you must give it back to
+          me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter weighed the mint-drop on his finger and returned it
+          conscientiously.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He found it heavy. Ah, in this moment he was so depressed that he
+          would have found everything heavy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Franz stuck the piece of candy into his mouth, and sucking at it
+          continued:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, really, very heavy. These are the English drops, you know.
+          And then there is something else, too, isn&rsquo;t there, Gustave? The
+          propriety, the respectability! Tell him, Gustave.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The respectability,&rdquo; cried Gustave, significantly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;We mean the respectability of it,&rdquo; repeated Franz, as if
+          he were explaining something.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter looked first from one to the other, and did not seem to
+          comprehend.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You tell him, Gustave.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Walter, Franz will tell you,&rdquo; said Gustave.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Walter, our papa is a deacon, and carries a portfolio, and
+          there where we live is a&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; cried Gustave, &ldquo;there on the <i>Gracht</i>,
+          you know, lives M&rsquo;neer Krulewinkel. He has a villa&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb16" href="#pb16">16</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;With a portico,&rdquo; added Franz.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s just on account of our standing&mdash;don&rsquo;t
+          you see, Walter? And when a visitor comes our mother brings out the
+          wine.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Maderia, Maderia! And our tobacco-box is silver, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, Franz, it isn&rsquo;t silver; but, Walter, it looks just
+          like silver.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Our poor little sinner understood all of this, but he failed to see
+          what bearing it might have on his own disappointed hopes. He
+          stuttered: &ldquo;Yes, Gustave&mdash;yes, Franz&mdash;but the
+          peppermint&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;We just wanted to tell you that we are very respectable, don&rsquo;t
+          you see?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Gustave.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And well-behaved.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Y-e-e-s, Franz.&rdquo; Poor Walter!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And then as you said you never got any pocket-money&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Walter&mdash;and don&rsquo;t you know? Because our papa is
+          so respectable&mdash;when winter comes you can see how he looks after
+          the orphans.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and he rings at every door. And&mdash;and&mdash;we are
+          afraid, that you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The florin&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The florin! You understand?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That you didn&rsquo;t get it&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That you didn&rsquo;t get it honestly. That&rsquo;s it,&rdquo;
+          said Franz, sticking another mint-drop into his mouth, perhaps to
+          brace himself up.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was out at last. Poor, miserable Walter. <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb17" href="#pb17">17</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And on that account, Walter, we would rather not keep the
+          money, but just divide now&mdash;equally, as we all agreed.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; cried Gustave, &ldquo;divide equally. The work&mdash;we&mdash;you
+          understand?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          They divided the profits. And the Hallemans were sleek about it.
+          Twenty-four stivers; three into twenty-four goes eight times,
+          therefore&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter received eight stivers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see,&rdquo; explained Gustave, &ldquo;we couldn&rsquo;t
+          do it, because our papa is a deacon.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes&mdash;and our tobacco-box, even if it isn&rsquo;t pure
+          silver, it&rsquo;s just like silver.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          My lack of faith in the extreme respectability of the Hallemans is
+          based upon the foregoing story; and I am inclined to think that all
+          this &ldquo;respectability&rdquo; of which Walter heard so much at
+          home was only an excuse on his mother&rsquo;s part to get him out of
+          the way. For there was a lack of room. If she had wanted to use Walter
+          about the house, it is questionable if she had discovered anything
+          especially respectable about those boys.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Many laws and most customs have their origin in a &ldquo;lack of room&rdquo;&mdash;in
+          the intellect, in one&rsquo;s character, in the house or flat, in the
+          fields, in the city.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This applies to the preference for the right hand&mdash;a result of
+          crowding at the table&mdash;to the institution of marriage, and to
+          many things lying between these extremes. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb18" href="#pb18">18</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch3" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter III
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          We will not try to explain further this fruitful principle of &ldquo;limitation
+          of space.&rdquo; Walter knew the fruit of it, even if he failed to
+          recognize the origin. He was not worried so much by the mere coming
+          home as by the punishment he expected to receive as soon as that New
+          Testament should be missed. He had returned from his little excursion
+          into the country with Glorioso, and now in Amsterdam again the memory
+          of his recent offense&mdash;or shall I say the anticipation of what
+          was coming?&mdash;lay heavily on his mind.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If we could think away all the results of crime committed, there would
+          be very little left of what we call conscience.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Walter consoled himself with the thought that it wasn&rsquo;t a
+          thimble this time. The testament will not be missed at once, he
+          reflected, because Sunday was a long way off, and no one would ask
+          about it during the week.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No, it was not a thimble, or a knitting-needle, or a sugar-bowl, or
+          anything in daily use.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When our hero got home, he stuck his greasy Glorioso under Leentje&rsquo;s
+          sewing-table&mdash;the same Leentje who had sewed up his breeches
+          after that wonderful leap, so that his mother never found out about
+          it. She <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb19" href="#pb19">19</a>]</span>went
+          down to her grave in ignorance of these torn breeches.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Leentje was employed to patch breeches and such things. She
+          received for this seven stivers a week, and every evening a slice of
+          bread and butter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Long after the Habakkuk period, Walter often thought of her humble
+          &ldquo;Good-evening, Juffrouw; good-evening, M&rsquo;neer and the
+          young Juffrouwen; good-evening, Walter,&rdquo; etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, Walter&rsquo;s mother was called Juffrouw, on account of the
+          shoe-business. For Juffrouw is the title of women of the lower middle
+          classes, while plain working women are called simply Vrouw. Mevrouw is
+          the title of women of the better classes. And so it is in the
+          Netherlands till to-day: The social structure is a series of classes,
+          graduated in an ascending scale. Single ladies are also called
+          Juffrouw, so that Juffrouw may mean either a young lady or a young
+          matron&mdash;who need not necessarily be so young. The young
+          Juffrouwen were Walter&rsquo;s sisters, who had learned how to dance.
+          His brother had been called M&rsquo;neer since his appointment as
+          assistant at the &ldquo;intermediate school,&rdquo; a sort of charity
+          school now no longer in existence. His mother had spliced his jacket
+          that he might command the respect of the boys, and remarked that the
+          name &ldquo;Stoffel&rdquo; scarcely suited him now. This explains why
+          Leentje addressed him as M&rsquo;neer. To Walter she simply said
+          Walter, for he was only a small boy. Walter owed her three stivers,
+          or, to be exact, twenty-six doits, which he never did pay her. For,
+          years afterward, when he <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb20"
+          href="#pb20">20</a>]</span>wanted to return the money to her, there
+          were no more doits; and, besides, Leentje was dead.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This pained him very much, for he had thought a great deal of her. She
+          was ugly, even dirty, and was stoop-shouldered, too. Stoffel, the
+          schoolmaster, said that she had an evil tongue: She was thought to
+          have started the report that he had once eaten strawberries with sugar
+          in the &ldquo;Netherlands.&rdquo; This was a small garden-restaurant.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I am willing to admit the truth of all this; but what more could one
+          expect for seven stivers and a slice of bread and butter? I have known
+          duchesses who had larger incomes; and still in social intercourse they
+          were not agreeable.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Leentje was stooped as a result of continuous sewing. Her needle kept
+          the whole family clothed; and she knew how to make two jackets and a
+          cap out of an old coat and still have enough pieces left for the
+          gaiters that Stoffel needed for his final examination. He fell through
+          on account of a mistake in Euclid.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With the exception of Walter nobody was satisfied with Leentje. I
+          believe they were afraid of spoiling her by too much kindness. Walter&rsquo;s
+          sisters were always talking about &ldquo;class&rdquo; and &ldquo;rank,&rdquo;
+          saying that &ldquo;everyone must stay in his place.&rdquo; This was
+          for Leentje. Her father had been a cobbler who soled shoes, while the
+          father of the young Juffrouwen had had a store in which &ldquo;shoes
+          from Paris&rdquo; were sold. A big difference. For it is much grander
+          to sell something that somebody else has made than to make something
+          one&rsquo;s self. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb21" href="#pb21">21</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mother thought that Leentje might be a little cleaner. But I am
+          going to speak of the price again, and of the difficulty of washing
+          when one has no time, no soap, no room, and no water. At that time
+          waterpipes had not been laid, and, if they had been, it&rsquo;s a
+          question if the water had ever got as far as Leentje.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          So, everyone but Walter had a spite against Leentje. He liked her, and
+          was more intimate with her than with anyone else in the house, perhaps
+          because the others could not endure him, and there was nothing left
+          for him to do but to seek consolation from her. For every feeling
+          finds expression, and nothing is lost, either in the moral or in the
+          material world. I could say more about this, but I prefer to drop the
+          subject now, for the organ-grinder under my window is driving me
+          crazy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s mother called him, &ldquo;That boy.&rdquo; His brothers&mdash;there
+          were more beside Stoffel&mdash;affirmed that he was treacherous and
+          morose, because he spoke little and didn&rsquo;t care for &ldquo;marbles.&rdquo;
+          When he did say anything, they attributed to him a relationship with
+          King Solomon&rsquo;s cat. His sisters declared he was a little devil.
+          But Walter stood well with Leentje. She consoled him, and considered
+          it disgraceful that the family didn&rsquo;t make more out of such a
+          boy as Walter. She had seen that he was not a child like ordinary
+          children. And I should scarcely take the trouble to write his story if
+          he had been.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Up to a short time after his trip to Hartenstraat, Ash Gate and the
+          old bridge, Leentje was Walter&rsquo;s sole confidant. To her he read
+          the verses that slender <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb22"
+          href="#pb22">22</a>]</span>Cecilia had disdained. To her he poured out
+          his grief over the injustice of his teacher Pennewip, who gave him
+          only &ldquo;Fair,&rdquo; while to that red-headed Keesje he gave
+          &ldquo;Very good&rdquo; underscored&mdash;Keesje who couldn&rsquo;t
+          work an example by himself and always &ldquo;stuck&rdquo; in &ldquo;Holland
+          Counts.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Poor boy,&rdquo; said Leentje, &ldquo;you&rsquo;re right about
+          it.&rdquo; They went over into the Bavarian house. It&rsquo;s a
+          disgrace! And to save a doit on the pound.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She claimed that Keesje&rsquo;s father, who was a butcher, let
+          Pennewip have meat at a reduced price, and that this was what was the
+          matter with all those Holland counts and their several houses.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Later Walter looked upon this as a &ldquo;white lie,&rdquo; for
+          Pennewip, when examined closely, didn&rsquo;t look like a man who
+          would carry on a crooked business with beefsteak. But in those days he
+          accepted gladly this frivolous suspicion against the man&rsquo;s honor
+          as a plaster for his own, which had been hurt by the favoritism
+          towards Keesje. Whenever our honor is touched, or what we regard as
+          our honor, then we think little of the honor of others.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When his brothers jeered at him and called him &ldquo;Professor
+          Walter,&rdquo; or when his sisters scolded him for his &ldquo;idiotic
+          groping among the bed-curtains,&rdquo; or when his mother punished him
+          for eating up the rice that she intended to serve again &ldquo;to-morrow&rdquo;&mdash;then
+          it was always Leentje who restored the equilibrium of his soul and
+          banished his cares, just as, with her inimitable stitches, she
+          banished the &ldquo;triangles&rdquo; from his jacket and breeches.
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb23" href="#pb23">23</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Ugly, dirty, evil-tongued Leentje, how Walter did like you! What
+          consolation radiated from her thimble, what encouragement even in the
+          sight of her tapeline! And what a lullaby in those gentle words:
+          &ldquo;There now, you have a needle and thread and scraps. Sew your
+          little sack for your pencils and tell me more of all those counts, who
+          always passed over from one house into another.&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb24" href="#pb24">24</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch4" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter IV
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          I don&rsquo;t know what prophet Walter got as punishment for that
+          pawned Bible. The pastor came to preach a special sermon. The man was
+          simply horrified at such impiousness. Juffrouw Laps, who lived in the
+          lower anteroom, had heard about it too. She was very pious and
+          asserted that such a boy was destined for the gallows.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;One begins with the Bible,&rdquo; she said significantly,
+          &ldquo;and ends with something else.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No one has ever found out just what that &ldquo;something else&rdquo;
+          is which follows a beginning with the Bible. I don&rsquo;t think she
+          knew herself, and that she said it to make people believe that she
+          possessed much wisdom and knew more about the world than she gave
+          utterance to. Now, I admit that I have no respect for wisdom that
+          cannot express itself in intelligible words, and, if it had been my
+          affair, I should have very promptly drawn a tight rein on Juffrouw
+          Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel delivered an exhortation in which he brought out all that had
+          been forgotten by the preacher. He spoke of Korah, Dathan and Abiram,
+          who had erred similarly to Walter and had been sent to an early grave
+          for their sins. He said too, that the honor of the family had been
+          lost at the &ldquo;Ouwebrug,&rdquo; that it was his duty, &ldquo;as
+          the eldest son of an irreproachable widow and third assistant at the
+          intermediate school, to take care of the honor of the house&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb25" href="#pb25">25</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of Bavaria,&rdquo; said Leentje softly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That &ldquo;a marriage, or any other <span class="corr" id="xd0e857"
+          title="Source: arrangemnet">arrangement</span> for the girls, would be
+          frustrated by Walter&rsquo;s offence, for no one would have anything
+          to do with girls who&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In short, Stoffel accented the fact that it was &ldquo;a disgrace,&rdquo;
+          and that &ldquo;he would never be able to look anyone in the face who
+          knew of this crime.&rdquo; He remarked distinctly that the schoolboys
+          must know of it, for Louis Hopper had already stuck out his tongue at
+          him!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And finally, that he &ldquo;shuddered to cross the new market-place&rdquo;&mdash;in
+          those days criminals were scourged, branded and hanged here&mdash;because
+          it reminded him so disagreeably of Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s horrible
+          allusion to Walter&rsquo;s fate.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then followed all sorts of things about Korahs, Dathans and Abirams,
+          whereupon the whole family broke out in a wail. For it was so
+          pathetic.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter comforted himself with thoughts of Glorioso, and, whenever that
+          &ldquo;something else&rdquo; of Juffrouw Laps was spoken of, he just
+          dreamed of his marriage with beautiful Amalia, whose train was carried
+          by six pages. I fancy Juffrouw Laps would have made a pretty face if
+          she had learned of this interpretation of her mysterious climax.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All efforts to compel our hero to tell how he had spent that money
+          were in vain. After all known means had been applied, the attempt to
+          force a confession had to be abandoned. Water and bread, water without
+          bread, bread without water, no water and no bread, the preacher,
+          Stoffel, Habakkuk, Juffrouw Laps, tears, the rod&mdash;all in vain.
+          Walter was not the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb26" href="#pb26">26</a>]</span>boy
+          to betray Glorioso. This was what he had found so shabby of
+          Scelerajoso, who had to pay the penalty, as we have seen.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As soon as he got the privilege of walking again with the Hallemans,
+          who were so eminently respectable, he hurried away to the old bridge,
+          near Ash Gate, to continue his thrilling book. He read up to that
+          fatal moment when he had to tell his hero good-bye, and on the last
+          page saw Glorioso, as a major-general, peacefully expire in the arms
+          of the virtuous Alvira.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When Walter had returned the book to Hartenstraat his eye was
+          attracted by some almond-cakes at the confectioner&rsquo;s on the
+          corner. He did with Glorioso just as the Athenians did with Kodrus: No
+          one was worthy to be the successor of such a hero, and within a few
+          days the residue of the New Testament had been converted into
+          stomach-destroying pastry.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I ought to add that a part of the &ldquo;balance&rdquo; left after
+          that Italian excursion&mdash;perhaps the part contributed by the
+          Psalms&mdash;was invested in a triple-toned, ear-splitting,
+          soul-searing harmonica, which was finally confiscated by Master
+          Pennewip as being a disturbing element in the schoolroom. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb27" href="#pb27">27</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch5" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter V
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          I don&rsquo;t feel called upon to pass judgment on the strife between
+          Leentje and Pennewip regarding the latter&rsquo;s partiality towards
+          Keesje, the butcher&rsquo;s son. But that fiery feeling for right and
+          justice which has harrassed me from my earliest youth&mdash;ah, for
+          years have I waited in vain for justice&mdash;and the foolish passion
+          for hunting after mitigating circumstances, even when the misdeed has
+          been proved&mdash;all this compels me to say that Pennewip&rsquo;s lot
+          might be considered a mitigating circumstance for a man convicted of
+          the eight deadly sins.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I have found that many great men began their careers as feeders of
+          hogs (see biographical encyclopedias); and it seems to me that this
+          occupation develops those qualities necessary in ruling or advancing
+          mankind.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If the theologists should happen to criticise this story, and perhaps
+          accuse me of far-reaching ignorance, because I enumerate one cardinal
+          sin more than they knew of, or of the crime of classifying man as a
+          sort of hog, I reply that, still another new canonical sin could be
+          discovered that they have never studied. And that ought to be as
+          pleasing to them as influenza is to the apothecary.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          New problems, gentlemen, new problems!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And as for our relationship with pigs, just consider <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb28" href="#pb28">28</a>]</span>the relation
+          of coal to diamond, and I think everyone will be satisfied&mdash;even
+          the theologists.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          What a magnificent prospect anyone has who spends his tender youth
+          with those grunting coal-diamonds of the animal world! But I have
+          often wondered that in the &ldquo;Lives of Famous Men&rdquo; we so
+          seldom read of a school-teacher, for in the school all the ingredients
+          of greatness are abounding.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reverse is more often true. Every day we see banished princes
+          teaching lazy boys. Dionysius and Louis Philippe are not the only
+          ones. I myself once tried to teach an American French. It was no go.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If it should ever become customary again to elect kings, I hope the
+          people will elect such persons as have studied men, just as one
+          studies Geography on globes or maps. All virtues, propensities,
+          passions, mistakes, misdeeds, knowledge of which is so indispensable
+          in human society, can be studied much better in the schoolroom. The
+          field is restricted, and can be taken in more readily. The famous
+          statecraft of many a great man, if the truth were known, had its
+          origin in that old tripping trick, which is everything to the
+          three-foot Machiavellis.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The task of a schoolmaster is not an easy one. I have never understood
+          why he is not better paid, or, since this must be so, why there are
+          still men who prefer to teach, when on the same pay they might be
+          corporals in the army, and teach the use of firearms, which offers
+          fewer headaches and more fresh air.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I would even rather be a preacher; for he does work with people who
+          are interested and come to hear him <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb29"
+          href="#pb29">29</a>]</span>of their own free will. The teacher has to
+          fight continually with indifference, and with the extremely dangerous
+          rivalry of tops, marbles, and paper-dolls&mdash;not to speak of candy,
+          scarlatina and weak mothers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Pennewip was a man of the old school. At least he would seem so to us
+          if we could see him in his gray school jacket and short trousers with
+          buckles, and his brown wig, which he was continually pushing into
+          place. At the first of the week this was always curly, when it was not
+          raining&mdash;rain isn&rsquo;t good for curls; and on Sundays &ldquo;the
+          man with the curling irons&rdquo; came.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Antiquated? But perhaps this is only imagination. Who knows? perhaps
+          in his day he was quite modern. How soon people will say the same of
+          us! At all events, the man called himself &ldquo;Master&rdquo; and his
+          school was a school and not an &ldquo;Institute.&rdquo; It is no
+          advance to call things by other than their right names. In his school
+          boys and girls sat together indiscriminately, according to the na&iuml;ve
+          custom of those days. They learned, or might learn, Reading, Writing,
+          Arithmetic, National History, Psalmody, Sewing, Knitting, and
+          Religion. These were the order of the day, but if anyone distinguished
+          himself by a show of talent, diligence or good behavior, that one
+          received special instruction in versification, an art in which
+          Pennewip took great pleasure.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus he taught the boys till they were sufficiently advanced to be
+          confirmed. With the help of his wife he gave the girls a &ldquo;finishing
+          course.&rdquo; They were graduated with a paternoster done in red on a
+          black <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb30" href="#pb30">30</a>]</span>background,
+          or perhaps a pierced heart between two flower-pots. Then they were
+          through and ready to become the grandmothers of their own generation.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was no natural science then. Even to-day there is room for
+          improvement along this line. It is said that some advance has been
+          made recently. It is more useful for a child to know how corn grows
+          than to be able to call the name of it in a foreign language. I don&rsquo;t
+          say that either is incompatible with the other.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The public schools were most deficient at the time when Walter and
+          Keesje were slowly crawling around the arena of honor; but I doubt if
+          one could say much more of the &ldquo;institutes&rdquo; of to-day. I
+          would advise everyone to visit such a school as he attended when a
+          boy; and I am convinced that after this test many a father who has the
+          welfare of his children at heart will prefer to keep them at home. One
+          comes to the conclusion, that after all in the school of clever Master
+          Miller, who was so clever that he got himself addressed as <i> M&rsquo;sieu</i>
+          Millaire, precious little was to be learned.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Failing to make this test we continue to believe in the infallibility
+          of M&rsquo;sieu of Millaire. We always consider that one a great man
+          whom we have known in childhood and haven&rsquo;t seen since.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When I remarked a moment ago that school-teachers are paid so
+          niggardly, I didn&rsquo;t mean that their remuneration was
+          insufficient, considering the quality and quantity of the goods
+          delivered&mdash;knowledge, scholarship, education. I only had in mind
+          the bitterness of their lot, and the poor indemnity given to the man
+          who spends his life in a wasp&rsquo;s nest. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb31" href="#pb31">31</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In addition to versifying, Pennewip had still another hobby, which
+          gave him more claim to a throne than did anything else. He was
+          possessed with the mania for classifying, a passion known to few, but
+          still of not infrequent occurrence. I have never quite understood the
+          disease; and I gave up my search for the &ldquo;first cause&rdquo; as
+          soon as I saw how difficult it is to get around with a hobby-horse
+          taken from somebody else&rsquo;s stable. So I am going to give only a
+          short sketch of Pennewip&rsquo;s harmless animal.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Everything that he saw, perceived, experienced he divided into
+          families, classes, genera, species and sub-species, and made of the
+          human race a sort of botanical garden, in which he was the <i> Linne</i>.
+          He regarded that as the only possible way to grasp the final purpose
+          of creation and clear up all obscure things, both in and out of
+          school. He even went so far as to say that Walter&rsquo;s New
+          Testament would have turned up again if Juffrouw Pieterse had only
+          been able to tell to what class the man belonged who had bound the
+          volume in black leather. But that was something she didn&rsquo;t know.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As for myself, I shouldn&rsquo;t have said a word about Pennewip&rsquo;s
+          mania for classifying everything, if I hadn&rsquo;t thought it might
+          help me to give the reader a better picture of our hero and his
+          surroundings. I should have preferred to leave the said Pennewip in
+          undisturbed intercourse with the muses; but we shall have occasion
+          later to refer to his poetic art, when we shall quote some poems by
+          his pupils.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After the usual general division into &ldquo;animate&rdquo; and
+          &ldquo;inanimate&rdquo;&mdash;the good man gave the human <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb32" href="#pb32">32</a>]</span>race only one
+          soul&mdash;followed a system that looked like a pyramid. On the top
+          was God with the angels and spirits and other accessories, while the
+          oysters and polyps and mussels were crawling about down near the base,
+          or lying still&mdash;just as they pleased. Half way up stood kings,
+          members of school-boards, mayors, legislators, theologians and D.D.&rsquo;s.
+          Next under these were professors and merchants who do not work
+          themselves. Then came doctors of things profane, <i>i. e.</i>, those
+          driving double rigs, also lawyers and untitled preachers, the Colonel
+          of the City Militia, the Rector of the Latin School. Philosophers
+          (only those who have developed a system), doctors with one horse,
+          doctors without any horse and poets were further down. Rather low
+          down, and not far from the mussels, was the seventh sub-division of
+          the third class of the &ldquo;citizen population.&rdquo; Our hero
+          would come under this sub-section.
+        </p>
+        <div class="blockquote">
+          <p>
+            <span class="smallcaps">Citizen Population, Class III., 7th
+            Sub-Division.</span>
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            <i>People Living in Rented Flats.</i>
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            <i>a.</i> Entrance for tenants only. Three-window front. Two
+            stories, with back-rooms. The boys sleep alone, dress, however, with
+            the girls. Fresh straw in case a baby is born. Learning French,
+            poems at Christmas. The girls are sometimes called Lena or Maria,
+            but seldom Louise. Darning. The boys work in offices. One girl kept,
+            sewing-girl, and &ldquo;person for the rough work.&rdquo; Washing at
+            home. Read sermons by Palm. <span class="corr" id="xd0e955"
+            title="Source: Pickeled">Pickled</span> pork on Sundays, with
+            table-cloth, liquor after coffee. Religion. Respectability. <span
+            class="pagenum">[<a id="pb33" href="#pb33">33</a>]</span>
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            <i>b 1.</i> Still three windows. One story. Neighbors live above who
+            ring twice (<i>Vide</i> b. 2). Leentje, Mietje; Louise heard seldom.
+            House-door opened with a cord, which is sleek from long use. Sleep
+            in one room. Straw-heaps in cases of confinement. One maid-servant
+            for everything. Sundays cheese, no liquor, but religion and
+            respectability as above.
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            <i>b 2.</i> Neighbors who ring twice. About as above. No maid, only
+            a &ldquo;person for the rough work.&rdquo; Seamstress. White
+            table-cloth. Cheese from time to time, only occasionally. Religion
+            as above.
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            <i>c.</i> One story higher. Two-window front. Small projecting
+            back-room. The entire family sleeps in two beds. No trace of straw.
+            The boys are called Louw, Piet, or Gerrit, and become watchmakers or
+            type-setters. A few become sailors. Continual wrangle with the
+            neighbors about the waste-water. Religion as above. Associate with
+            &ldquo;respectable folk.&rdquo; Read &ldquo;Harlemmer&rdquo; with
+            III. 7, b. 2. No maid, or person for rough work, but a seamstress on
+            seven stivers and a piece of bread and butter.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          That brings us to Juffrouw Pieterse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reader will now have a very good idea of Walter&rsquo;s
+          environment, and will readily understand why I said he had a &ldquo;city
+          complexion.&rdquo; That was when we saw him in the Hartenstraat, on
+          the road to fame, or on the road to that nameless &ldquo;other thing&rdquo;
+          of Juffrouw Laps. At all events he was on his way to things that will
+          occupy our attention for some time yet. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb34" href="#pb34">34</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch6" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter VI
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          It was Wednesday, and the Pieterses were going to give a party.
+          Juffrouw Laps had been invited, also the Juffrouw living over the
+          dairy, whose husband was employed at the &ldquo;bourse.&rdquo; Further
+          Mrs. Stotter, who had been a midwife for so long and was still merely
+          &ldquo;very respectable.&rdquo; Then the widow Zipperman, whose
+          daughter had married some fellow in the insurance business, or
+          something of the kind. Also the baker&rsquo;s wife. That was
+          unavoidable: it was impossible to buy all kinds of pastry and cakes
+          without her finding out what was up. Then the Juffrouw living below
+          and to the rear. Of course she wouldn&rsquo;t come, but the Pieterses
+          wanted to show that they had forgotten the late quarrel over the
+          broken window-pane. If she didn&rsquo;t come that was the end of the
+          matter, so far as Juffrouw Pieterse was concerned. She would have
+          nothing more to do with the Juffrouw from below. I may add that the
+          lady from below did not come, and that her name was stricken from the
+          calling-list of those higher up.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The children were to go to bed early, with the promise of a cup of
+          sage-milk for breakfast if they would not make any noise the entire
+          evening. This drink largely took the place of tea then. It was thought
+          that the &ldquo;noise&rdquo; made by children would not be
+          appreciated. Walter got permission to go play <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb35" href="#pb35">35</a>]</span>with the Halleman boys, who were
+          thought to be very respectable. He must be at home by eight o&rsquo;clock;
+          but this was said in a tone that gave him no cause to fear a reprimand
+          in case he should stay out later. Laurens, who of course was an
+          apprentice to a printer, and usually came home about seven o&rsquo;clock
+          in the evening, was big enough to be present with the guests, but must
+          promise to sit still and drink only two glasses. The big girls were to
+          be present as a matter of course: They had been confirmed. Stoffel
+          presided. His business was to meet the gentlemen when they came for
+          the ladies about ten o&rsquo;clock, and entertain the company with
+          stories of Mungo Park.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Leentje was to remain till the people were all there, as it was so
+          inconvenient to have to open the door every time. She could make
+          herself useful in arranging the table and doing other things incident
+          to such occasions. But she &ldquo;must move about a little brisker,&rdquo;
+          otherwise they would prefer to do everything themselves.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The eldest of the girls, Juffrouw Truitje, must look after the &ldquo;sage-milk.&rdquo;
+          Pietje had charge of the sandwiches; but Myntje was to see to it that
+          the butter was spread a little thicker, for the last time the bread
+          had been too dry.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Everything was going to turn out so nicely, &ldquo;if only Juffrouw
+          Laps wouldn&rsquo;t talk so much.&rdquo; That was her failing. And,
+          too, they hoped that the widow Zipperman would &ldquo;brag a little
+          less about her son-in-law.&rdquo; This was considered a source of
+          weariness. And the Juffrouw who lived over the dairy &ldquo;might be
+          more modest.&rdquo; She had &ldquo;never lived in such a fine <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb36" href="#pb36">36</a>]</span>house&rdquo;;
+          and as for the shop&mdash;that was no disgrace; and on the top floor&mdash;but
+          one cannot tell how it will be.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No one understood why the baker&rsquo;s wife used so many French
+          words, which was not becoming in one of her station. &ldquo;If she
+          does it this evening, Stoffel, say something to me that she can&rsquo;t
+          understand, then she will find out that we are not &lsquo;from the
+          street,&rsquo; that we know what&rsquo;s what.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all the same to me,&rdquo; Juffrouw Pieterse
+          continued, &ldquo;whether the Juffrouw downstairs comes or not. I don&rsquo;t
+          care a fig about it.&mdash;Four, five&mdash;Louw can sit there, but he
+          must keep his legs still&mdash;and a chair there&mdash;yes&mdash;so!
+          It&rsquo;s a good thing she&rsquo;s not coming; it would have been too
+          crowded. Leentje, go to work&mdash;do blow your nose! No, run over to
+          Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s and ask the Juffrouw if the Juffrouw could spare
+          a few stools&mdash;without backs, you understand; because the chairs
+          there by the chimney&mdash;yes, ask the Juffrouw for a few stools, and
+          tell the Juffrouw that they are for me, and that I expect the
+          Juffrouws about seven. Give my compliments to the Juffrouw and wipe
+          your nose.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse didn&rsquo;t like to use personal pronouns; it was
+          impolite.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On this afternoon Walter went to his bridge early. It was now not so
+          useless as usual, for the rain of the day before had filled the ditch
+          with water, which was even running, so that the straws which Walter
+          thoughtlessly, or full of thought&mdash;both are about the same thing&mdash;threw
+          into the water were carried down to the pond, where the logs lay that
+          were to be sawed up by the &ldquo;Eagle&rdquo; and the &ldquo;Early
+          Hour.&rdquo; These <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb37" href="#pb37">37</a>]</span>were
+          the names of the sawmills that for some weeks had been the witnesses
+          of Walter&rsquo;s daydreams.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Glorioso was gone, and could not be replaced; but on those afternoons
+          when he was free Walter returned involuntarily to the spot where he
+          had had his first glimpse of the world of romance. How rough and crude
+          the colors in that first picture! Perhaps it was the very roughness of
+          the colors that attracted him and changed him, till he could not
+          conceive how he had ever found enjoyment in the little cakes on the
+          corner.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A peculiar prospective had opened up before him. He dreamed of things
+          that he could not name; but they made him bitterly dissatisfied with
+          his present condition. He was anxious to do everything prescribed to
+          get to Heaven; but he thought it would be much easier to pray in such
+          a cave with wax candles. And as for honoring his mother, a point upon
+          which she always laid great stress&mdash;why didn&rsquo;t she have a
+          train like the countess? Certainly he ought not to have sold the
+          Bible; and he wouldn&rsquo;t do it any more&mdash;he had vowed it; but
+          then he ought to have had a box filled with florins, and a feather in
+          his cap, just as it was in the book.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was disgusted with his brother Stoffel, and his sisters, and
+          Juffrouw Laps, and the preacher and everything. He couldn&rsquo;t
+          understand why the whole family didn&rsquo;t go to Italy and form a
+          respectable robber-band. But Pennewip and Keesje shouldn&rsquo;t go;
+          that was certain.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He wondered what had become of his verses. Every Wednesday such pupils
+          as had been well-behaved, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb38"
+          href="#pb38">38</a>]</span>and, for that reason, deemed worthy to
+          contest for the &ldquo;laurel,&rdquo; handed in a poem written on some
+          subject suggested by the teacher. This time the subject assigned to
+          Walter was &ldquo;Goodness,&rdquo; which probably had some reference
+          to his former behavior, and was a hint for the improvement of his
+          moral character. But Walter had already put goodness into rhyme so
+          often, and found the subject so dry and tedious and worn-out that he
+          had taken the liberty of &ldquo;singing&rdquo; something else. He
+          selected the theme nearest his heart&mdash;robbers!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Like all authors he was greatly infatuated with his work. He was
+          convinced that the teacher, too, would see the excellencies of his
+          poem and forgive him for deviating from the path of goodness. The
+          verses would undoubtedly be sent to the mayor, and he would pass them
+          on to the Pope, who would then summon Walter and appoint him &ldquo;Court-robber.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And thus he dreamed and threw his straws into the stream. They moved
+          away slowly and disappeared between the moss-covered timbers.
+          Involuntarily his fancy had transmuted them into the characters of his
+          world of romance. There went the countess with her long train, which
+          got caught in the moss and held the countess fast. The virtuous Amalia
+          met with no better luck; she got tangled up in the water lentils. And
+          now came Walter himself. He approached Amalia, in her green robes, and
+          was just about to rescue her, when he was swallowed by a duck. This
+          was most unkind of the duck, for it was Walter&rsquo;s last stalk of
+          grass; and now in the rattling and buzzing <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb39" href="#pb39">39</a>]</span>of the sawmills below he could
+          hear Amalia repeating in a reproachful voice:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Warre, warre, warre, we;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Where is warre, warre, wall&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Walter, who will rescue me?&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          This annoyed him, and he could not resist the temptation to throw a
+          rock at the duck whose greediness had caused Amalia to doubt his
+          chivalry.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The duck chose the better part, and retired after she had done Walter
+          all the damage she could. But the sawmills paid no attention to these
+          happenings and continued to rattle away.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter heard now in the noisy clatter of the mills all kinds of songs
+          and stories, and, listening to these, he soon forgot Amalia and the
+          Pope. That the reader may not get a wrong impression of these mills, I
+          hasten to say that there was really nothing extraordinary about them.
+          They buzzed and rattled just like other sawmills.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It often happens that we think we perceive something which comes from
+          the external world, when in fact it is only a subjective product in
+          ourselves. Similarly, we may think we have just imagined something,
+          when really it came to us from the world of the senses.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This is a kind of ventriloquism that often gives cause for annoyance
+          and enmity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I wonder which turns the faster?&mdash;Walter listened to the mills.
+          Now&mdash;I think&mdash;no, begin together. Good! No, the Eagle was
+          ahead! Once more&mdash;now!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Which will get there first? No, that won&rsquo;t do. Once more
+          together. Look sharp, Morning Hour,&mdash;<span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb40" href="#pb40">40</a>]</span>out again! I can&rsquo;t hold my
+          eye on it&mdash;what a whirling and buzzing!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          You are tired, are you? I believe it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If I might only sit on such a big wing, wouldn&rsquo;t I hold on
+          tight? And wouldn&rsquo;t the sawyer look?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Why are you called &ldquo;Morning Hour&rdquo;? Have you gold in your
+          mouth? And &ldquo;Eagle&rdquo;! Can you fly? Take me with you. What a
+          big play-ground up there, and no school!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I wonder how the first school began. Which came first, the school, or
+          the teacher? But the first teacher must have attended a school. And
+          the first school must have had a teacher.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          So the first school must have just started itself. But that is
+          impossible. &ldquo;Eagle,&rdquo; can you turn yourself?&mdash;with the
+          wind? Can you turn yourself some other way? Try it. Beat &ldquo;Morning
+          Hour.&rdquo; Quick, quick&mdash;beautiful!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Now, once more alone. Good!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Now, together again! Karre, karre, kra, kra&mdash;stretch your arms
+          out and take me with you. Will you? Put your hat on, Eagle; how the
+          ribbons fly.&mdash;Who are you? Warre, warre, ware, wan&mdash;I can&rsquo;t
+          help it; it was the duck. Tell me what your name is. Fanny, fanny,
+          fanny, fan&mdash;&mdash; Is your name fan? And you, Morning Hour, what
+          is your name? Ceny, ceny, ceny, ce. What kind of a name is Ce? Now
+          together&mdash;sing a song together:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            Fanny, fanny, fanny, fan&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Ceny, ceny, ceny, ce&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Fanny, ceny, fanny, ceny,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Fanny, ceny, fan&mdash;cy.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb41" href="#pb41">41</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          Fancy&mdash;what do you mean by that? Is that the name of both of you?
+          And what is it? Has it wings?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Morning Hour&rdquo; and &ldquo;Eagle&rdquo; had fused into
+          something that had wings and was called fancy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Fancy lifted Walter up and bore him away.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When she brought him back to the bridge again it had already been dark
+          for a long time. He shook himself as if he were wet, rubbed his eyes
+          and started home. We shall see later what awaited him there; but first
+          we must go back a few hours. I hope the reader will not disdain an
+          invitation to Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s. Remember that her husband
+          never made anything, but bought everything ready-made in Paris.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In passing by I should like to make Master Pennewip a short visit.
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb42" href="#pb42">42</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch7" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter VII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          School was out; and the seats looked as if the pupils had just left
+          the tediousness of it all lying there. The map of Europe looked down
+          peevishly on the heap of writing-pads. There lay the mutilated and
+          well-worn goose-quills, which since time immemorial have opened up the
+          gates of learning. True, the black-board vaunted itself with the heavy
+          results of the last lesson in &ldquo;fractions&rdquo;; but the school
+          was no more. The spirit had fled: It was a corpse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, the &ldquo;Geist&rdquo; had gone out with the children; for the
+          reader will see in a moment that they carried about with them a
+          tremendous amount of that article.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          We already know that this was the great day when Pennewip was to
+          criticise the poetical effusions of his young geniuses. There he sat,
+          his restless wig sharing all the poetical feelings and emotions&mdash;and
+          motions&mdash;of its owner. We will just look over his shoulder and
+          read with him those inestimable treasures of poetic art; and perhaps
+          we too shall be moved to emotion.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig: In the middle, resting quietly.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Lucas de Bryer</span>: &ldquo;Our Native
+            Land.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            Cake and wine and native land,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Out in the moonlight I take my stand;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Our native land and cake and wine,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And I hope the moon will shine;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Five fingers have I on my hand,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            All to honor our native land.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb43" href="#pb43">43</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Melodious,&rdquo; said the teacher, &ldquo;very melodious; and
+          very profound. Cake and wine, with our native land as a climax.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig: On the right side.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Lizzie Webbelar</span>: &ldquo;My Father&rsquo;s
+            Vocation.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            The cat is sly, I know;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            My father is a dealer in Po-
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Tatoes and onions.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Original, immediate! But I don&rsquo;t like the way she cuts
+          her potatoes in twain.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig: On the left side.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Jeanette Rust</span>: &ldquo;The
+            Weather-cock.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            He stands on the chimney since long ago,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And shows the wind which way to blow.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Smooth, but not quite correct, <span class="corr" id="xd0e1140"
+          title="Source: for">if</span> examined closely&mdash;but I&rsquo;ll
+          let it pass as poetic license.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig: Down in front.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Leendert Snelleman</span>: &ldquo;Lent.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            In Lent it is always nice,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            My brother&rsquo;s birth-day is in May,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            He says his feet need warming,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            So that Lent we must be praising,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And then we&rsquo;re going to celebrate,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Easter brings eggs and a holiday.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s too bad that he&rsquo;s so careless with his rhymes.
+          His imagination is extraordinary. Very original.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig: Down on his neck. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb44" href="#pb44">44</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Keesje, the Butcher&rsquo;s Boy</span>:
+            &ldquo;In Praise of the Teacher.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            My father has slaughtered many a steer,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            But Master Pennewip is still living, I hear;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Some are lean, and some are well-fed,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            He has slipped his wig to the side of his head.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          The wig actually went to the side of his head.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, this is curious. I hardly know what to say about it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig slipped to the other side.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the connection between me and steers?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig protested vigorously against any implication of relationship
+          with steers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;H&mdash;mm! Can it be that this is what our new-fangled writers
+          call humour?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig sank down to his eyebrows, which signified doubt.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will call up the boy and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig passed again to the zenith, to express its satisfaction with
+          the teacher&rsquo;s determination to interview the butcher&rsquo;s
+          boy.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Lucas de Wilde</span>: &ldquo;Religion.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            Religion very nice must be,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Much it pleases the people we see.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The fundamental idea is very beautiful,&rdquo; said the
+          teacher, &ldquo;but it ought to have been developed better.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig nodded <span class="corr" id="xd0e1211"
+          title="Source: aquiescence">acquiescence</span>.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Trudie Gier</span>: &ldquo;Juffrouw
+            Pennewip.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            The path of virtue she shows us each day,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And we are glad to go that way;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And as there&rsquo;s nothing to do more fitting,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            She teaches us sewing, darning and knitting.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb45" href="#pb45">45</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          The wig fairly leaped with pleasure, and the curls embraced one
+          another. This out-pouring of Trudie&rsquo;s heart was borne at once to
+          Juffrouw Pennewip, and was later hung by the fireplace in honor of the
+          poetess and the subject of the poem.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then followed a sublime poem on God by Klaasje van der Gracht, the son
+          of the Catechist. He was thirteen years old, and had not been
+          vaccinated&mdash;out of regard for predestination.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If only his father didn&rsquo;t help him!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig was rigid with astonishment.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Louwtje de Wilde</span>: &ldquo;Friendship.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            Friendship very nice must be,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Much it pleases the people we see.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          The wig seemed dissatisfied. The &ldquo;Religion&rdquo; of Lucas de
+          Wilde was pulled out and compared with Louwtje&rsquo;s &ldquo;Friendship.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;H&mdash;emm. It is possible. Another example of how one thought
+          can originate in two heads at the same time.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Wimpje de Wilde</span>: &ldquo;Fishing.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            Fishing very&mdash;&mdash;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, really, there it was again:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            Fishing very nice must be,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Much it pleases the people we see.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          The wig was moving continually. It looked as if it were fishing too.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The teacher looked hurriedly through the remaining <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb46" href="#pb46">46</a>]</span>poems and
+          picked out the offspring of the entire Wilde connection. His worst
+          suspicions were realized. Mietje de Wilde, Kees de Wilde, Piet and Jan
+          de Wilde&mdash;all uniformly declared that religion, friendship,
+          fishing, dreaming, cauliflower and deception &ldquo;very nice must be,&rdquo;
+          and that they were also very pleasing &ldquo;to the people we see.&rdquo;
+          A regular flood of the nice and pleasing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Now, what do you suppose the wig did? It did the best thing that could
+          be done under the circumstances. More could not be expected of a wig.
+          As soon as it saw the futility of its efforts to comprehend the
+          difference between fishing, friendship, deception, dreams, religion
+          and cauliflower, it merely ignored the whole matter, readjusted itself
+          and assumed an expression of expectancy for what was yet to come.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Leentje de Haas</span>: &ldquo;Admiral de
+            Ruyter.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            Pulling the rope with emotion,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line" style="text-indent: 2em; ">
+            To the top of the mast he came,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And then he went to the ocean,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line" style="text-indent: 2em; ">
+            And won for himself great fame.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            And very much more he perfected,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line" style="text-indent: 2em; ">
+            Saleh he vanquished, too;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            A hero he was then elected,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line" style="text-indent: 2em; ">
+            With nothing else to do.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          The wig lifted itself, the curls applauding enthusiastically. It was
+          evidently pleased.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Grete Wauzer</span>: &ldquo;The Caterpillar.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            The caterpillar, free from care,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Crawls on the tree just over there.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb47" href="#pb47">47</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          <span class="corr" id="xd0e1308" title="Not in source"> &ldquo;</span>Descriptive
+          poetry. A daring idea&mdash;the caterpillar crawling on the tree free
+          from care.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig: Quiet.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Ah, the pleasure of a wig is short-lived! And how soon was this one&mdash;but
+          I will not anticipate. Soon, all too soon, the reader will know the
+          worst.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            <span class="smallcaps">Walter Pieterse</span>: &ldquo;A Robber
+            Song.&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Aha, what&rsquo;s this? And &lsquo;goodness&rsquo;? But where
+          has he written on goodness?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The teacher could scarcely believe his eyes. He turned the sheet of
+          paper over and examined the back side, hoping to discover there some
+          lines on goodness.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then he saw that on Walter&rsquo;s sheet there was not a trace of
+          &ldquo;goodness.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, wretched wig!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, wretched wig! For after it had suffered as never wig had suffered
+          before, after it had been pulled at and tugged at and martyred in a
+          manner beyond even the imagination of the Wilde family, Master
+          Pennewip snatched it from his head, twisted it convulsively in his
+          hands, stammered a short &ldquo;Heaven-human-Christian-soul-good-gracious-my-life&mdash;how
+          is it possible!&rdquo; slapped it on his head again, covered it with
+          his venerable cap and burst out the door like one possessed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was on his way to Walter&rsquo;s home, where we shall soon see him
+          arrive. As a conscientious historian, however, it will be my duty
+          first to give an account of the happenings there. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb48" href="#pb48">48</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch8" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter VIII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Goodness, I&rsquo;m glad to see you! And so early, too! Leetje,
+          place a chair over there and get the footstool, but be in a hurry, or
+          I&rsquo;d rather do it myself. And how are you? Juffrouw Laps is
+          coming too, you know&mdash;Myntje, you&rsquo;d better be thinking of
+          your dough and stop combing your head. That girl can&rsquo;t keep her
+          hands off of her hair when there&rsquo;s company. But do take a seat&mdash;no,
+          not in the corner; there&rsquo;s a draft there.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was no more draft in this corner than is usual to corners; but
+          Mrs. Stotter was only a Vrouw, and not a &ldquo;Juffrouw.&rdquo; She
+          had no right to the seat of honour; for on all occasions a Juffrouw
+          takes precedence of a Vrouw, just as a Mevrouw takes precedence of a
+          Juffrouw. Everyone must keep his place, especially those in III, 7,
+          b1; or c., where etiquette is observed more closely than at the court
+          of Madrid. The care and anxiety of the mistress of ceremonies make her
+          work most trying, and, too, not merely for Juffrouw Pieterse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, my dear Juffrouw Pieterse, I was so surprised when Louwie
+          came to invite me, for I had just remarked to Wimpje, who makes caps,
+          you know&mdash;no, thank you, Pietje, I don&rsquo;t care for any just
+          now&mdash;I said to Wimpje, I wonder what Juffrouw Pieterse is doing,
+          for I hadn&rsquo;t heard from you in so long, you know&mdash;yes, just
+          throw it aside, it&rsquo;s my old one; I <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb49" href="#pb49">49</a>]</span>knew you wouldn&rsquo;t mind my
+          wearing my old one&mdash;and then Wimpje said&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          What Wimpje really said I don&rsquo;t know. Mrs. Stotter&rsquo;s
+          garment, which she had described as her &ldquo;old one,&rdquo; was
+          removed and placed on the foot of the bed in the back room. The
+          children, who were piled together there like sardines, were duly
+          admonished not to stretch out their feet, lest in doing so they injure
+          Mrs. Stotter&rsquo;s &ldquo;old&rdquo; garment.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And now, my dear, be seated&mdash;yes, that&rsquo;s for us,
+          twice already. Leentje, where are you hiding now? Can&rsquo;t you hear
+          that somebody is ringing?&mdash;It&rsquo;s probably Juffrouw
+          Zipperman. Juffrouw Zipperman is coming, too, you know.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again I am at a loss: I don&rsquo;t know whether it was Juffrouw
+          Zipperman who had rung, or somebody else. But the reader need not
+          scold me for writing a story that I don&rsquo;t know myself. I cannot
+          be sure whether it was Juffrouw Zipperman this time or Juffrouw
+          Mabbel, from the bakery, or Juffrouw Krummel, whose husband is at the
+          bourse, or Juffrouw Laps&mdash;but she didn&rsquo;t need to ring, as
+          she lived in the house. Anyway, by half past seven the entire company
+          was assembled, and Stoffel was smoking his pipe as if his life
+          depended upon it. Leentje had gone home without her piece of bread and
+          butter. She &ldquo;could get it to-morrow&rdquo;; to-day there was
+          &ldquo;so much to do,&rdquo; and &ldquo;one can&rsquo;t do everything
+          at once, you know.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And then she got another one right away&mdash;don&rsquo;t you
+          know? One with a wart on her nose.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, it&rsquo;s an ordeal one has with girls,&rdquo; said
+          Juffrouw Pieterse. &ldquo;Take another piece, don&rsquo;t wait <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb50" href="#pb50">50</a>]</span>to be
+          insisted upon; it&rsquo;s a cake from your own dough.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;<span lang="fr">Excusez</span>,&rdquo; said the Juffrouw from
+          the bakery, with a mouth like a rabbit, a style of mouth signifying
+          graciousness and good breeding.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You must eat more, or I shall think you don&rsquo;t like it.&rdquo;
+          She had baked it herself.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then I cannot refuse, Juffrouw Pieterse. Oblig&eacute; and many
+          thanks.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you, Juffrouw Laps, what can I pass you?&rdquo; Juffrouw
+          Laps selected ginger cake.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Fill the cups, Trudie! Yes, Mrs. Stotter, when you are here you
+          must drink with us. You are welcome to anything we&rsquo;ve got.
+          Pietje, wipe off a table&mdash;such a girl! And now go and look after
+          the baby, and tell her that I don&rsquo;t want to hear any more noise.
+          Ah, Juffrouw Mabbel, children are a great deal of trouble. And your
+          little Sientje&mdash;how is her cough now?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;We&rsquo;ve got a magnetisier, but that isn&rsquo;t enough. We
+          must have the clairvoyange of the sonnebule.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t say so! One can hardly believe it. And when is
+          he coming, the cler&mdash;cleek&mdash;clar&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s in the nerves, Juffrouw Zipperman. But he has the
+          little nightcap and nightgown, in which she has sweated, you know; and
+          he says that it will come all right now.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Who would have thought it! What will you do now?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s just it; the sonnebule must tell us what to do.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps could not agree to this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t do it&mdash;I wouldn&rsquo;t do it&mdash;not
+          for anything <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb51" href="#pb51">51</a>]</span>in
+          the world! I tell you, what God does is all right. Just mark my words!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Juffrouw Laps; but the Juffrouw at the provision store did
+          it, and her child is lots better.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what <i>you</i> say, Juffrouw Mabbel, but I tell
+          you there is something in her eye that I don&rsquo;t like.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What then, Juffrouw Laps?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She has a look, a look&mdash;and it&rsquo;s sin&mdash;I tell
+          you it is. It&rsquo;s wrong, it won&rsquo;t do. What God does is all
+          right.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Come, Stoffel, talk some. You sit there like a stone. Recite a
+          poem, or tell us something about your school. Would you believe it,
+          Juffrouw Mabbel, he knows a whole poem by heart. And he has memorized
+          all the verbs of the feminine gender.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mother, what are you talking about?&rdquo; said Stoffel,
+          displeased. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see I&rsquo;m smoking?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, dear, I meant when you were through smoking. Then you can
+          repeat the words. You will be surprised, Juffrouw Zipperman, and
+          wonder where he learned it all. How does it go? &lsquo;I would have
+          been drunk, he would have been drunk&rsquo;&mdash;of course, you know,
+          he was not drunk, it belongs with the verbs. You will kill yourself
+          laughing when he begins. Fill the cups, Trudie, and blow in the spout;
+          there&rsquo;s a leaf over it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reader will not take it amiss, I trust, if I pass over the
+          subsequent history of this leaf, and, too, make some deviations from
+          the text of the conversation during the further course of Juffrouw
+          Pieterse&rsquo;s tea-evening. Stoffel spun off his conjugations and
+          the ladies fairly shrieked when he related how &ldquo;he had <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb52" href="#pb52">52</a>]</span>been drunk&rdquo;
+          and that &ldquo;he would be drunk.&rdquo; Thereupon followed general
+          and particular criticism of the neighbors. The Juffrouw below received
+          her share, as a matter of course: She was absent.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Religion and faith play an important part. Juffrouw Laps was for
+          organizing a prayer-class. The preachers of to-day, she insisted, take
+          their work too lightly and don&rsquo;t sweep out all the corners.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I tell you, it&rsquo;s in the Bible that man is only man,&rdquo;
+          she cried; &ldquo;that&rsquo;s what I want to tell you. Man must not
+          try to know better than God himself. Salvation comes through grace,
+          and grace through faith; but if a man is not chosen, then he has no
+          grace and can have no faith. That&rsquo;s the way he is damned, don&rsquo;t
+          you see? I tell you, it&rsquo;s just as certain as twice two&mdash;understand?
+          And for that reason I want to have a prayer-class. Not for the sake of
+          money or profit&mdash;God help me, no! At most just a trifle for the
+          fair, or for New Year. What do you think of the plan, Juffrouw Mabbel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That lady expressed the opinion that her husband would be opposed to
+          it, for he liked to go out of evenings, and then she must stay in the
+          shop. Besides, it was so difficult to get through with the work. No
+          one could imagine what a laborious occupation baking was.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What do you say, Juffrouw Zipperman? Don&rsquo;t you think it
+          would be a go? I would serve coffee; and the people could leave
+          something on the saucers. Really, I am not doing it for the money. We
+          would begin with the Old Testament&mdash;and then&mdash;exercise, you
+          know; practice&mdash;understand?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb53" href="#pb53">53</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Zipperman thought it would be very nice; but her son-in-law
+          had said that the preachers are paid to do this, and that any
+          additional &ldquo;exercise&rdquo; was merely an unnecessary expense.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What do you say to it, Juffrouw Krummel? Don&rsquo;t you think
+          that such a class&mdash;just a small class&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Krummel said she practiced with her husband when he came from
+          the bourse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps was now forced to turn to Mrs. Stotter, though she felt
+          that she was letting herself down in appealing to a Vrouw.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, my dear Juffrouw Laps, if you had been a midwife as long as
+          I have you&rsquo;d take no interest in a prayer-class. Now there is M&rsquo;neer
+          Littelman in Prince Street. I&rsquo;ve been at his house&mdash;always
+          in respectable houses&mdash;and he always said&mdash;it&rsquo;s a
+          house with high steps, and in the hall there&rsquo;s a big clock about
+          the wind and rain&mdash;and he always said: &lsquo;Vrouw Stotter,&rsquo;
+          said he, &lsquo;you&rsquo;re a good woman,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;and
+          a faithful midwife. I always tell the people that,&rsquo; said he,
+          &lsquo;and,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;all of my connection must send for
+          you,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;but,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;when people
+          tell you this you must act as if you didn&rsquo;t hear it&rsquo;&mdash;thank
+          you, Juffrouw Pieterse, my cup is turned over. Just as I said:
+          Everyone must know what he&rsquo;s doing.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But just a little exercise like that, Mrs. Stotter!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s possible, it&rsquo;s possible. But I&rsquo;ve had so
+          much experience in such things. I go my own way; and that&rsquo;s the
+          best way, too. For I&rsquo;ve been in the home of M&rsquo;neer Witte,
+          who has an uncle in congress&mdash;for I always go to respectable
+          places&mdash;and he always said, because he&rsquo;s so funny: &lsquo;Child-woman,
+          child-woman, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb54" href="#pb54">54</a>]</span>you&rsquo;re
+          nothing but a child-woman.&rsquo; I was just going to say that I know
+          what I&rsquo;m doing, for I&rsquo;ve seen a lot in my life. There&rsquo;s
+          M&rsquo;neer&mdash;what&rsquo;s his name? There in Prince Street&mdash;no,
+          no<span class="corr" id="xd0e1431" title="Not in source">,</span>
+          Market Square. Oh, what is his name!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reader will have noticed that Mrs. Stotter digressed from the
+          theme. But other folk do the same.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And Juffrouw Pieterse, what do you think of the idea? Just a
+          little exercise.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, my dear, I have exercise enough with my children. You don&rsquo;t
+          know what it means to bring up nine. I always worship with the
+          children, for the Bible says&mdash;Trudie, go to the baby; I hear her
+          again.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was something noble in Trudie&rsquo;s gait as she walked into
+          that back room. One could see that she felt flattered by the
+          transmission to her of maternal dignity. Little Kee, the baby, was
+          less flattered.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What were we talking about? Yes, that is my religious service.
+          The children keep me busy. You don&rsquo;t know anything about it; if
+          I bring them up properly&mdash;run, Pietje, and straighten out Simon.
+          He&rsquo;s pinching his sister again; he always does it when there&rsquo;s
+          company.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Simon was straightened out.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Whenever we have company the children behave so badly. There it
+          goes again. Myntje, go and see what&rsquo;s the matter and tell them
+          to go to sleep.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Myntje went, returning immediately with the report that they had
+          &ldquo;turned something over.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          General indignation. Angry message from the Juffrouw below. It was
+          unpleasant for the Juffrouw below when the children of the Juffrouw
+          above turned <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb55" href="#pb55">55</a>]</span>over
+          things and flooded the back room. Terrible excitement.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Finally the children were straightened out.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Zipperman again sat in the corner where there was such a
+          &ldquo;draft.&rdquo; This only goes to show that earthly greatness has
+          its dark side, and that a son-in-law in the insurance business
+          entitles one to rheumatism.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps was greatly pleased with the hearty manner in which
+          punishment was meted out to the children. It was exactly according to
+          Scripture, she said; and then she cited a text or two in which the rod
+          was prescribed. It&rsquo;s in the Bible somewhere, I don&rsquo;t know
+          where. The Bible mentions everything, and the &ldquo;rod&rdquo;
+          especially.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Now, Stoffel,&rdquo; said the hostess sweetly, &ldquo;recite
+          something for us.&rdquo; She wanted to show that her children could do
+          something else besides pinch and turn things over.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know anything,&rdquo; said Stoffel, but without a
+          trace of Socratic arrogance.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just say for us what you said the other day. Come, Stoffel.
+          That&rsquo;s the way he always is, Juffrouw Mabbel. One has to pull
+          him up on his feet before he will do anything. But then he goes all
+          right. Forward, Stoffel! He&rsquo;s tired now. Teaching in such a
+          school is hard work. Yes, Juffrouw, he&rsquo;s as smart as he can be.
+          Would you believe it? All words are either masculine or feminine. Aren&rsquo;t
+          they, Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No? But&mdash;and the other day you said&mdash;it&rsquo;s only
+          to get him started, you know, Juffrouw Zipperman<span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e1470" title="Source: .">,</span> <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb56" href="#pb56">56</a>]</span>it takes a little time, because
+          he&rsquo;s worn out with his school work&mdash;but you said that all
+          words&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother. Masculine, feminine or neuter, I said.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and still more,&rdquo; said Juffrouw Pieterse. &ldquo;You
+          will be astonished when you hear him. What do you suppose you are,
+          Juffrouw Krummel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I? What I am?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes, what you are&mdash;what you really are.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am Juffrouw Krummel,&rdquo; she said, but doubtfully; for she
+          read in the triumphant look of Juffrouw Pieterse and the tightly
+          closed lips of Stoffel that she might easily be something entirely
+          different from Juffrouw Krummel.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The tension did not need to be farther increased; so Juffrouw Pieterse
+          passed now from the special to the general. Her glance took in the
+          entire company.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you, too, Juffrouw Mabbel; and you, Juffrouw Laps; and you,
+          Juffrouw Zipperman; and you, Mrs. Stotter&mdash;what do you all think
+          you are?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No one knew.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This will not be surprising to anyone who knows how difficult
+          knowledge of the &ldquo;self&rdquo; is; but Stoffel had something else
+          in mind. There was a deeper meaning involved.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps was the first to answer, and she spoke with proud
+          self-sufficiency:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am Juffrouw Laps!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Wrong, wrong&mdash;entirely wrong!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But for Heaven sake, am I not Juffrouw Laps?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Y-e-s. Of course you are Juffrouw Laps; but <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb57" href="#pb57">57</a>]</span>Stoffel didn&rsquo;t
+          ask who you were, but what you were. There&rsquo;s the fine point.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What I am? I&rsquo;m Dutch Reform!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Y-e-s. That you are, too; but&mdash;it isn&rsquo;t that. The
+          question is, What <i>are</i> you? Help her out, Stoffel.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Between puffs of smoke, and with the air of a professor, Stoffel
+          proceeded to &ldquo;help&rdquo;:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Laps, I wished to know what you were from a zo&ouml;logical
+          standpoint.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t have anything more to do with it,&rdquo; said
+          Juffrouw Laps in the tone of one who feels that he is going to be
+          insulted.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am a midwife,&rdquo; said Mrs. Stotter, &ldquo;and I&rsquo;m
+          going to stick to it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And I am the baker&rsquo;s wife,&rdquo; cried Juffrouw Mabbel,
+          with a positiveness in her tone which showed her intention to hold to
+          this opinion.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, certainly, Juffrouw Mabbel; but I mean from a zo&ouml;logical
+          standpoint.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If it&rsquo;s going to be indecent, I prefer to go home.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I, too,&rdquo; added Juffrouwen Krummel and Zipperman. &ldquo;We
+          came here to be entertained.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But you&rsquo;re not going to get angry about it! I tell you,
+          it&rsquo;s in the book, Stoffel&mdash;you will laugh when you hear it,
+          Juffrouw Mabbel; and the best part of it is, that it&rsquo;s in the
+          book, and one can&rsquo;t say anything against it. Tell her, Stoffel!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Laps,&rdquo; said Stoffel with dignity&mdash;an
+          important moment in Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s tea-evening had arrived&mdash;&ldquo;Juffrouw
+          Laps, you are a <i>sucking animal</i>.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I admit frankly that I cannot adequately describe <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb58" href="#pb58">58</a>]</span>the crisis that followed these
+          two words. If Stoffel had only said mammal, perhaps then my task would
+          have been easier.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s face took on all the different colors that are
+          generally supposed to express anger. She had been attacked more openly
+          than the others, it is true; but her attitude toward the prayer-class
+          would go to show that she was naturally polemical.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In French novels people used to turn green; but Juffrouw Laps did not
+          read French, so she stopped at a terrible violet and screamed&mdash;no,
+          she didn&rsquo;t. She didn&rsquo;t scream anything; for she was
+          choking for breath. But she did pulverize that piece of ginger cake;
+          and she looked at Stoffel and his mother in a manner that would have
+          been most damaging for her if those two persons had happened to die
+          that night.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Imitating the trick of the cuttle-fish, no doubt unconsciously,
+          Stoffel managed to escape this fatal stare by enveloping himself in a
+          heavy cloud of smoke. Juffrouw Pieterse, however, not being a smoker,
+          was at the mercy of Juffrouw Laps. She stammered humbly: &ldquo;It&rsquo;s
+          in the book, really it&rsquo;s in the book. Don&rsquo;t be angry, it&rsquo;s
+          in the book.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          By this time Juffrouw Laps was getting a little air, so much that
+          there was now no danger of her suffocating. She threw the mutilated
+          remains of the ginger cake on the table and began:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Pieterse, you are nothing but a low, vile, filthy&mdash;you
+          may even be a sucking animal, you and your son too. I want you to
+          understand that I&rsquo;ve always been respectable. My father sold
+          grain, and nobody&rsquo;s ever been able to say anything against me!
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb59" href="#pb59">59</a>]</span>Ask
+          everybody about me&mdash;if I&rsquo;ve ever run with men-folk, and
+          such things; and if I haven&rsquo;t always paid my debts. He was
+          manager I would have you understand, and we lived over the
+          chapter-house, for he was in the grain business, and you can ask about
+          me there. Thank God, you can ask about me everywhere&mdash;do you
+          hear? But never, never, never, has such a thing happened to me. What
+          you put on me! If it wasn&rsquo;t for lowering myself I&rsquo;d tell
+          you what I think of you&mdash;you sucking animal, you and your son and
+          your whole family. My father sold grain, and I&rsquo;m too <span
+          class="corr" id="xd0e1551" title="Source: resectable">respectable</span>
+          for you to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But&mdash;it&rsquo;s in the book that way. For God&rsquo;s sake
+          believe me; it&rsquo;s in the book.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just hold your lip about your book. Anybody who sells God&rsquo;s
+          holy word on the Ouwebrug needn&rsquo;t talk to me about books.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This accusation was false; for Walter, and not his mother, had sold
+          the Bible; but this was no time for such fine distinctions.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Stoffel, go get the book and show Juffrouw&mdash;my God, what
+          shall I do!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Go to the Devil with your book and your sucking animals. You&rsquo;ve
+          got nothing to show in your book. I know you&mdash;and your lout of a
+          son, and your wenches of daughters, that are growing up like&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Truitje, Myntje and Pietje, understanding from this that there was
+          something radically wrong with their growth, began to screech too.
+          Other members of the party bawled a word from time to time, as
+          opportunity presented itself. Then came another message from the
+          Juffrouw below. This time she threatened to <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb60" href="#pb60">60</a>]</span>call in the police. The children,
+          taking advantage of the general excitement to break the ban under
+          which they had been placed, had left the bed and were now listening at
+          the keyhole. Juffrouw Pieterse was calling for the camphor bottle,
+          declaring that she was going to die; Mrs. Stotter was clamoring for
+          her wrap&mdash;her &ldquo;old one&rdquo;; and Stoffel was playing
+          cuttle-fish as well as he could.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All had got up and were going to leave. They could &ldquo;put up with
+          a good deal,&rdquo; but that was &ldquo;too much&rdquo;! Juffrouw
+          Krummel was going to tell her husband; Juffrouw Zipperman was going to
+          let everybody in the insurance business know about it; Mrs. Stotter
+          was going to relate the whole story to the gentleman in Prince Street;
+          and Juffrouw Mabbel&mdash;I forget whom she was going to tell it all
+          to. In short, every one of them was going to see to it that the affair
+          was well aired.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Who knows but what these threats would have been carried out, if the
+          good genius of the Pieterses had not at that moment caused someone to
+          ring the door-bell? It was that worthy gentleman whom we left in such
+          a state of pious despair at the close of the last chapter. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb61" href="#pb61">61</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch9" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter IX
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Yes, the door-bell rang. And it rang again: So it was &ldquo;for us.&rdquo;
+          Juffrouw Pieterse drew a long breath; and I must say, she did a very
+          proper thing. While admitting that it is foolish to say what one would
+          do if one were somebody else, still, in her place I should have drawn
+          a long breath, too. Firstly, because I imagine she hadn&rsquo;t done
+          this for a long time; secondly, because I know how, in adverse
+          circumstances, every change and interruption gives one ground for
+          hope; and, finally, because I think Juffrouw Pieterse was human, just
+          like the rest of us.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, my dears,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;be peaceable. It must be
+          the gentlemen.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The ladies declared it couldn&rsquo;t be the gentlemen, because it was
+          too early for them; and this very doubt and uncertainty as to who it
+          might be gave the crisis a favorable turn.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mere uncertainty, even when in no way connected with what is occupying
+          us, has a sort of paralyzing effect. Besides, when one is interrupted
+          in one&rsquo;s anger, afterwards it is difficult to find the place
+          where one left off.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This was Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s experience; she tried it, but it wouldn&rsquo;t
+          work. Her &ldquo;a sucking animal, a sucking animal!&rdquo; was
+          smothered by, &ldquo;What can it mean? He never comes before ten!&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb62" href="#pb62">62</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse quickly availed herself of this diversion to get
+          them all seated again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Trudie was commissioned to &ldquo;straighten out&rdquo; the children,
+          who came off rather badly. The hostess was just about to state a new
+          zo&ouml;logical argument, which should establish peace between the
+          hostile parties, when the door opened and Master Pennewip stood before
+          the agitated assembly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He, too, was agitated: the reader knows it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The surprise caused by the arrival of this unexpected visitor had a
+          most favorable effect on the peace negotiations. A truce was tacitly
+          declared, though not without the proviso, at least on Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s
+          part, that hostilities should be reopened as soon as curiosity as to
+          Pennewip&rsquo;s visit had been sufficiently satisfied. Indeed, she
+          was all the more willing for a truce, as it was evident from the man&rsquo;s
+          appearance that there was something momentous at hand. His wig cried
+          out fire and murder in unmistakable tones. And that was just what the
+          good Juffrouw Laps liked.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Good-evening, Juffrouw Pieterse; my humblest respects. I see
+          you have company, but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That &lsquo;doesn&rsquo;t make a bit of difference,&rsquo;
+          Master Pennewip.&lsquo;Come right in and take a seat.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          These forms of expression were rigidly observed in the &ldquo;citizen
+          populace,&rdquo; III, 7. c.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Won&rsquo;t you drink a cup with us?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Pieterse,&rdquo; he said with extreme dignity, &ldquo;I
+          didn&rsquo;t come here simply to drink a cup of sage-milk.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Master Pennewip, please be seated!&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb63" href="#pb63">63</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It wasn&rsquo;t easy; but the ladies made room and he was soon seated.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He cleared up his throat and looked about him with dignity. Then he
+          drew a roll of manuscript from his pocket, disarranged his wig and
+          spoke:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Pieterse! You are a worthy, respectable woman, and
+          your husband sold shoes&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse looked triumphantly at Juffrouw Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Master Pennewip, quite so; he did&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t <span class="corr" id="xd0e1620"
+          title="Source: interupt">interrupt</span> me, Juffrouw Pieterse. Your
+          departed husband sold shoes. I have taught your children from little
+          tots up to their confirmation. Haven&rsquo;t I, Juffrouw Pieterse?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Master Pennewip,&rdquo; she replied modestly; for she was
+          afraid of that excessive dignity in Pennewip&rsquo;s manner and voice.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And I just want to ask you, Juffrouw Pieterse, whether, during
+          all this time that your children were in my school, you ever heard any
+          complaints&mdash;reasonable complaints&mdash;of the manner in which I,
+          with my wife, instructed your children in reading, writing,
+          arithmetic, national history, psalmody, sewing, knitting, drawing and
+          religion? I put the question to you, Juffrouw Pieterse, and wait for a
+          reply.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          An awful silence followed this speech. The Juffrouw below had every
+          reason to be satisfied.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Master Pennewip&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want any &lsquo;but&rsquo;, Juffrouw Pieterse. I
+          ask you, whether you have had any complaints. I <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb64" href="#pb64">64</a>]</span>mean, of course, well grounded
+          complaints about my instruction in reading, writing, arithmetic&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, no, Master Pennewip, I have no complaints; but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So-oo? No complaints? Well, then I will explain to you&mdash;where
+          is your son Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Walter? Dear me! Hasn&rsquo;t he come home, Trudie? He went to
+          take a walk with the Halleman boys. They are such respectable
+          children, Master Pennewip, and they live&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So! With the Hallemans&mdash;who go to the French school! Aha,
+          and that&rsquo;s it? So&mdash;from the Hallemans! And he learns such
+          things from the Hallemans&mdash;the Hallemans <i>III, 7, a<sup>2</sup></i>,
+          perhaps &lsquo;<i>a</i>&rsquo;&mdash;yes, who knows but that it might
+          be <i>II</i>. It&rsquo;s no wonder&mdash;immorality, viciousness&mdash;at
+          the French school! And now, Juffrouw Pieterse, I want to tell you that
+          your son&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What did you say?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Master Pennewip looked about him as if he were drinking in the
+          breathless silence that had fallen over his hearers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps hastened to repay with compound interest that triumphant
+          look of the hostess, while that lady, thoroughly miserable, was making
+          frequent use of the camphor bottle. She was not so much mortified that
+          Juffrouw Laps should hear something else unfavorable about Walter, who
+          had caused them so much trouble, as angry that she should be the
+          witness of an accusation that would give her a new weapon in the zo&ouml;logical
+          fray.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t I tell you so? Nothing good will ever <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb65" href="#pb65">65</a>]</span>come to this
+          Walter. A boy that begins with the Bible will end with something else.
+          Yes, Master Pennewip, I&rsquo;m not surprised&mdash;I shouldn&rsquo;t
+          be surprised at anything he did. I&rsquo;ve seen it coming for a long
+          time. But what shouldn&rsquo;t one expect from a family&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As quick as a flash Juffrouw Pieterse saw here her opportunity to
+          recover her lost advantage. Stoffel had said it was in the book; but a
+          teacher must know whatever is in a book. Therefore&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Master Pennewip,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;Is it true that
+          Juffrouw Laps is a sucking animal?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I am convinced that Pennewip brought this question under a special
+          category for &ldquo;peculiar overflowings of the heart,&rdquo; seeing
+          that it followed upon his unfinished accusation against Walter. He
+          looked over his glasses and slowly described with his eye a circle,
+          peopled with women holding their breath, heads and necks stretched out
+          and mouths wide open. The attitude of Juffrouw Laps was threatening
+          above everything else, and said quite distinctly: Answer or die! Am I
+          a sucking animal?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;With whom have I the honor to speak?&rdquo; he asked, probably
+          not considering that this question made the matter still more
+          mysterious, giving the impression that Laps&rsquo;s animal quality
+          depended upon her name, age, place of residence, family relations,
+          etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am Juffrouw Laps,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and live down
+          stairs in the front part of the house.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah&mdash;so! Yes, indeed you belong to the class of sucking
+          animals.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A ten-fold sigh was heaved; and Juffrouw Pieterse was again
+          triumphant. In politics and the citizen <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb66" href="#pb66">66</a>]</span>populace complete equilibrium is
+          impossible. The parties or powers are in continual motion, first one
+          in the ascendency, then the other.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps, who had not been able to accomplish anything with
+          pride, now attempted good humor.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But Master Pennewip,&rdquo; she said sweetly, &ldquo;how can
+          you say such a thing? My father was in the grain business and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Laps, answer me one question.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Master Pennewip, but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Answer me, Juffrouw Laps, where do you live?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where I live? Why, in my room, down stairs&mdash;two windows&mdash;front
+          entrance&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You miss the significance of my question entirely, Juffrouw
+          Laps. The meaning would be similar if I were to ask you if you
+          belonged to that class of organisms that live in oyster-shells.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes, Juffrouw Laps,&rdquo; cried the triumphant hostess,
+          &ldquo;that&rsquo;s the point&mdash;the main point!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And Stoffel added that it was really and truly the main point.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps saw that she was hopelessly lost, for she had to admit
+          to herself that she didn&rsquo;t usually reside in an oyster-shell.
+          She looked at the teacher with astonishment; but he paid no attention
+          at all to the effect of his questions. Assuming a sort of legal manner&mdash;which
+          was closely imitated by his wig, he continued:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Can you live in water? Have you gills?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;In water? But&mdash;Master Pennewip&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig to the left, which meant: No, but! <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb67" href="#pb67">67</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Or half in water, half on land?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Master Pennewip, how should I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Wig to the right: No subterfuges.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Answer me, Juffrouw Laps, have you cold blood? Do you bring
+          living young into the world?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It is a sin, Master Pennewip!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig now looked like a battering-ram, anticipating the nature of
+          the next question.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Can you lay eggs, Juffrouw Laps? I only ask you the question.
+          Can you lay eggs? Eh?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She said she couldn&rsquo;t.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then you are a sucking animal, Juffrouw Laps!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wig was in the middle again resting quietly. It had vanquished
+          Juffrouw Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I wonder what the reader&rsquo;s idea is of the effect produced on the
+          company by this terrible sentence, against which there could be no
+          appeal. There was something pitiless in Pennewip&rsquo;s manner, and
+          in his contracted eyebrows there was no intimation of mercy. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb68" href="#pb68">68</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch10" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter X
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The attentive reader who knows human nature will naturally wish to
+          know why I closed the last chapter so tamely, and why that zo&ouml;logical
+          problem which, only a short time before had caused such a violent
+          explosion, was now allowed to rest in peace.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There are three reasons for this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Firstly, the women had been so wrought up that they were now
+          exhausted.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Secondly, Juffrouw Laps, the shrewd leader of the fight, looked over
+          the battlefield and, without thinking of the famous battle between the
+          Horatii and the Curiatii, saw with innate tactical talent the
+          correctness of &ldquo;divide and conquer.&rdquo; With the forces
+          Stotter, Mabbel, Krummel and Zipperman against the house of Pieterse&mdash;that
+          was all right. But now that the house was supported by Pennewip&rsquo;s
+          powerful hand, it was prudent to withdraw from the battle. For who
+          could guarantee her that she might depend upon her allies? What
+          assurance had she that the midwife, or even Juffrouw Zipperman would
+          not go over to the enemy?&mdash;if only out of deference to the
+          versatile wig! No, no, no! She wouldn&rsquo;t risk her rhetorical
+          artillery in such a doubtful engagement! She was content to say to
+          herself, &ldquo;I will get even with you later.&rdquo; Imagining her,
+          with all her relations to society, multiplied <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb69" href="#pb69">69</a>]</span>by twenty or thirty millions, we
+          would have read the next day in this or that official Laps organ
+          something like this:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Our relations with the Pietersian empire are most cordial. The
+          recent friendly meeting between the two sovereigns was merely that
+          they might have the mutual pleasure of seeing one another, and had no
+          political significance whatever. It will be seen how unfounded were
+          those rumors of &lsquo;strained relations,&rsquo; which were said to
+          have been brought about by a discussion of certain characteristics of
+          our popular princess. The reader will recall that we never gave
+          credence to those rumors, and reported them with great reserve.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thirdly. The third and chief cause of the armistice was&mdash;curiosity.
+          Under the present changed circumstances whoever betrayed any anger
+          would have to leave; and whoever left would not find out why Master
+          Pennewip had come, or what new crime Walter had committed. Again we
+          see the truth of the proposition, that everything has its good side.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Master Pennewip,&rdquo; asked Juffrouw Pieterse&mdash;she
+          threw the subdued sucking animal a look that was like a triumphant
+          telegram, and read: Where are you now?&mdash;&ldquo;but Master
+          Pennewip, what has Walter been doing now?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, what has he been up to this time,&rdquo; added Juffrouw
+          Laps, delighted that the conversation had taken this turn, and that
+          she was now to hear about Walter&rsquo;s latest sin.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For the sinner is a thing in which pious persons find much
+          edification. As we have already seen, Juffrouw Laps was fond of
+          edification. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb70" href="#pb70">70</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Pennewip was just on the point of beginning his indictment when the
+          door-bell rang. It rang again: &ldquo;It&rsquo;s for us&rdquo;&mdash;and
+          in a moment our truant walked into the room.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was paler than usual, and with good reason; for strange things had
+          happened to him since Fancy had lifted him up and borne him away.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Pieterse,&rdquo; began Pennewip, &ldquo;my school is
+          famous, even as far away as Kattenburg. Do you hear me?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Master Pennewip.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I repeat it: Famous! And, too, chiefly on account of the fine
+          moral there&mdash;I mean, of course, in my school. Religion and
+          morality occupy the first place in my school. I could show you verses
+          on the Deity&mdash;but I pass over that. It is sufficient for you to
+          know that my school is famous as far as&mdash;but what am I talking
+          about&mdash;I&rsquo;ve even had a boy from Wittenburg; and I was once
+          consulted about the education of a boy whose father lived at
+          Muiderberg.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, Master Pennewip!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Juffrouw, I still have the letter and could show it to
+          you. The man was a gravedigger&mdash;the boy painted inappropriate
+          figures on the coffins. And just for this reason I feel it my duty to
+          tell you that I don&rsquo;t intend to see my school lose its good name
+          through that good-for-nothing boy of yours there!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Poor Walter had fallen from the clouds. That sounded quite different
+          from a papal appointment&mdash;which he really no longer cared for, as
+          he had just received another appointment that pleased him better.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His mother wanted to pass immediately to what she <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb71" href="#pb71">71</a>]</span>called her &ldquo;divine worship&rdquo;
+          and give him a sound thrashing, in order to satisfy the teacher that
+          religion and morality took the first place in her house, too.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But the teacher found it preferable to tell the party what the trouble
+          was, and incidentally to strengthen the feeling of guilt in the
+          patient.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Your son belongs to the class of robbers, murderers, ravishers
+          of women, incendiaries&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was all.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Holy grace! Heavenly righteousness! Compassionate Christian
+          souls! Ah, divine and human virtue, is it possible! What must we
+          endure!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I cannot always be exact; but, in general, such was the flood of
+          exclamations that all but swept away that ten-year-old robber,
+          murderer, ravisher of women and incendiary.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am going to read you something from his hand,&rdquo; said the
+          teacher, &ldquo;and then if anybody still doubts the boy&rsquo;s
+          viciousness&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All tacitly promised to have no doubts.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The work that the teacher read was indeed of such a nature as to leave
+          small room for doubts; and I, who have chosen Walter for my hero,
+          anticipate difficulty in convincing the reader that he was not so bad
+          as he seemed&mdash;after his
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <h4 class="  lghead  ">
+            &ldquo;<span class="smallcaps">Robber Song.</span>&rdquo;
+          </h4>
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;On the steed,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Off I speed,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            With helmet on head
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And a sword in my hand and the enemy dead;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Quick, away!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb72" href="#pb72">72</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Christian souls,&rdquo; cried the whole party, &ldquo;is he
+          mad?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Rather late,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Near the gate
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            A push and a blow,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Vanquished dragoon, Margrave laid low&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Heaven save us, what has he against the Margrave,&rdquo; wailed
+          the mother.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;For the spoil!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see, it&rsquo;s for booty,&rdquo; said Juffrouw
+          Laps. &ldquo;I told you so: He began with the Bible, he&rsquo;ll end
+          with&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;And the prize&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Pretty eyes&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Did you ever hear the like&mdash;he has scarcely shed his milk
+          teeth!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;And the prize&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Pretty eyes&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            She was bought with steel&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;With ste-e-l!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;And the prize&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Pretty eyes&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            She was bought with steel;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            I bore her away to the cave just to feel
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            How it seemed.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Heavenly grace, what is he going to do in the cave?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;In my arm,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Free from harm
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Lay the maid as we sped;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Her cries, sweet complaints, and the tears&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb73" href="#pb73">73</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, blessed peace, and the poor thing crying!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Her cries, sweet complaints, and the tears she shed&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            O, delight!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And he calls that delight! I&rsquo;m getting right cold.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Then again,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            O&rsquo;er the plain&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Holy Father, there he goes again!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Then again,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            O&rsquo;er the plain.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Right and left, nothing spurned,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Here a villa destroyed or a cloister burned
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            For fun.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The Devil is in that boy. For fun!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Farther yet,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            I forget&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            But the deeds they were dire,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And the road was marked with blood and fire
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And revenge!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mercy on us! What had they done to him!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Revenge&rsquo;s sweet,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And is meet
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            For the King of the World&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is he crazy? I&rsquo;ll make him a king!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Revenge&rsquo;s sweet
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            And is meet
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            For the King of the World,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Who alone is supreme, with a banner unfurled
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Forever!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What sort of a thing is he talking about?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;All! Hurrah!
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            But, I say&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb74" href="#pb74">74</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          Everybody shuddered.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;All! Hurrah!
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            But, I say
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            No pardon shall be lavished,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            The men shall be hanged and the women&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Trudie, Trudie, the camphor bottle! You see&mdash;I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;The men shall be hanged and the women ravished&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The camphor bottle! Trudie, Trudie!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;For pleasure!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;For pleasure,&rdquo; repeated the teacher in a grave-yard
+          voice, &ldquo;for pleasure!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He&mdash;does&mdash;it&mdash;for&mdash;pleasure!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The company was stupefied. Even Stoffel&rsquo;s pipe had gone out.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Walter&rsquo;s was not a nature to be easily disturbed. After his
+          mother had beaten him till she came to her senses again, he went to
+          bed in the little back room, far from dissatisfied with the day&rsquo;s
+          work, and was soon dreaming of Fancy. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb75" href="#pb75">75</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch11" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XI
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          On the next day things had largely resumed their wonted course. That
+          someone may not charge me with carelessness, or indifference towards
+          the persons with whom we spent a pleasant evening, I will remark in
+          passing that Juffrouw Mabbel was again busy with her baking and
+          &ldquo;clairvoyange,&rdquo; and that Mrs. Stotter had resumed her
+          activities with the stork. Those unfortunate creatures who were
+          committed to her care she condemned to lie motionless for two or three
+          months&mdash;perhaps to give the newly born an idea of their new
+          career, and, at the same time, to punish them for the shameful uproar
+          they had caused by their birth.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As for Master Pennewip, he was busy, as usual, educating future
+          grandparents of the past. His wig had not yet recovered from the
+          excitement of the night before and was longing for Sunday.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Klaasje van der Gracht had been awarded the prize with an impressive,
+          &ldquo;Keep on that way, my boy&rdquo;; and he kept on. I still see
+          poems in the papers whose clearness, conciseness and sublimity betray
+          his master hand. I have heard that he died of smallpox&mdash;he had
+          not been vaccinated; it will be remembered&mdash;but I consider it my
+          duty to protect him from any such slander. A genius does not die;
+          otherwise it wouldn&rsquo;t be worth while to be born a genius. Still,
+          if Klaas <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb76" href="#pb76">76</a>]</span>had
+          died like other people, his spirit would have lived in those coming
+          after him. And that is a beautiful immortality.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The family de Wilde, too, has not died out, and will not die. I am
+          certain of it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Krummel asked her husband if she was really a &ldquo;sucking
+          animal.&rdquo; Being from the bourse, and having much worldly wisdom,
+          he replied after reflection that of such things he didn&rsquo;t
+          believe more than half he heard. &ldquo;In this case the last half,&rdquo;
+          he added&mdash;but softly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Zipperman had caught a cold; but was still able to boast
+          about her son-in-law. She was a &ldquo;respectable woman.&rdquo; Only
+          she couldn&rsquo;t endure for Juffrouw Laps to talk so much about
+          &ldquo;virtue,&rdquo; and the &ldquo;respectability&rdquo; of her
+          father, who was &ldquo;in the grain business.&rdquo; Old Man Laps, she
+          said, was not <i>in</i>, but <i>under</i> the grain business. He had
+          carried sacks of grain, but that was quite different from selling
+          grain. For the man who sells is much bigger than the man who carries.
+          Juffrouw, therefore, had been making misleading statements.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Trudie and her sisters had decked themselves out as well as possible
+          and were sitting at the window. When young people passed by they
+          looked as if they had never in their lives straightened out anybody.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Juffrouw in the rear below told the grocer that she was going to
+          move out; for it was just scandalous, simply scandalous the way the
+          Pieterses carried on in their back room; that she couldn&rsquo;t leave
+          anything uncovered.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse was busy with her household, <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb77" href="#pb77">77</a>]</span>and looked like a working woman.
+          From time to time she had &ldquo;divine service&rdquo; with the
+          children, who, if they could have had their choice, would have
+          preferred to have been born among the Alfures, Dajaks, or some other
+          benighted people whose religion is less strenuous.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I am glad to be able to say that Juffrouw Laps had passed a good
+          night. I should like to tell more about her, but I don&rsquo;t care to
+          exhaust myself.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel had returned to school, and was trying to inspire the boys
+          with contempt for riches. He was using on them a poem that had
+          probably been written in a garret by some poor devil or other whose
+          wealth gave him little cause for complaint. The boys were inattentive,
+          and seemed not to grasp the peculiar pleasure in having no money to
+          buy marbles. Stoffel attributed their hard-heartedness to Walter&rsquo;s
+          crazy ideas: They had heard of his attack on the Margrave and of that
+          remarkable visit to the cave.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And Walter?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He still lived in expectation of the punishment he deserved so richly.
+          For his mother had given him to understand repeatedly that the little
+          &ldquo;straightening out&rdquo; of the evening before was merely for
+          practice, and that the reward of his sin would be delayed till she
+          could speak with the preacher about it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In the meanwhile Walter didn&rsquo;t know what to do. He couldn&rsquo;t
+          return to school: Pennewip had closed for him that fountain of
+          knowledge.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Nor was he allowed to go out for a walk. &ldquo;Who knows what he will
+          do if I let him out of my sight?&rdquo; said his mother, who was
+          presumably afraid that he <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb78"
+          href="#pb78">78</a>]</span>might make a fresh attack on the cloisters.
+          As a matter of fact, she denied him this privilege merely because
+          Walter asked it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She expressed the opinion that it was best not to let bad children
+          have their own way.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If Walter had been right wise, he would have pretended to be
+          thoroughly in love with that dark back room; then, for his moral
+          improvement, he would have been chased down the steps, and away to his
+          sawmills.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Walter was not smart.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was forbidden to go into the front room because the young ladies
+          did not care to see him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That back room was more than dark: It was narrow, and dirty, and
+          reeked with all the fumes of &ldquo;III, 7, c.&rdquo; But Walter was
+          used to all this and much more. He had always been a martyr&mdash;bandages,
+          poultices, bandy legs, biblical history, rickets, poems on goodness,
+          evening prayers, the judgment day, hobgoblins for wicked children,
+          closed eyes before and after the slice of bread, sleeping with crooked
+          knees, committing sins, fear for the torn breeches, &ldquo;divine
+          service&rdquo; with and without sensible accompaniment!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That droll robber song, whose origin we know so well, shows how easily
+          his childish soul was moved by whatever seemed great to him. He was a
+          pure child, and he was a good boy. He wouldn&rsquo;t have hurt a fly.
+          The criminal character of his song was due to his desire to grasp what
+          is greater than everything else and to be the leader in that world
+          created by his childish fancy. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb79"
+          href="#pb79">79</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Robber&mdash;good! But a first-class robber, a robber of robbers, a
+          robber without mercy&mdash;for pleasure!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As to the gross mistreatment of women mentioned in his song, he had no
+          idea what it meant. He used the word for the sake of rhyme, and
+          because from certain sentences in his book he had got the impression
+          that it must afford great pleasure.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If, perchance, for those fourteen stivers Grandisson&mdash;weary
+          remembrance&mdash;had fallen into his hands, his Wednesday&rsquo;s
+          poem would have been quite different. No doubt he would have sought a
+          reconciliation with the butcher&rsquo;s Keesje, forgiving him
+          completely all his liberties with &ldquo;Holland nobility&rdquo; and
+          even presenting him a few slate pencils.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For that is the striking characteristic of spirits such as Walter&rsquo;s.
+          Whatever they are, they are that with all their might, always going
+          further in any direction than they would seem to be warranted in doing
+          by the mere external circumstances.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          From such characters we could hope much, if through some chance&mdash;<i>i.
+          e.</i>, a natural cause, which we call chance, because we do not <span
+          class="corr" id="xd0e2035" title="Source: undestand">understand</span>
+          it and are ashamed to admit our ignorance&mdash;if through some chance
+          they were not born among people who do not understand them, and,
+          therefore, mistreat them.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It is one of our peculiarities that we like to mistreat anyone whose
+          soul is differently organized from ours. How does the watch move? asks
+          the child, and cannot rest until he has torn apart the wheels he could
+          not understand. There the watch lies in pieces, and the little
+          miscreant excuses himself with the remark that he just wanted to see
+          how it was made. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb80" href="#pb80">80</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch12" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Walter sat with his elbows on the table, his chin resting in his
+          hands. He seemed to be deeply interested in Leentje&rsquo;s sewing,
+          but we shall see in a moment that his thoughts were elsewhere, and,
+          too, far away from III. 7, c.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          They had forbidden her to speak to the shameless rascal, and only
+          occasionally, when Juffrouw Pieterse left the room, did she have an
+          opportunity to whisper to him a few words of comfort. To be sure, she
+          noticed that Walter was not so sad as we should expect one to be who
+          was caught in between the thrashing of yesterday and the priest of
+          to-morrow. This gentleman was to come to-morrow to settle the matter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Walter, how could you speak of burning cloisters!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, I meant&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And the Count&mdash;what had he done?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It was a Margrave&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What sort of a count is that? I&rsquo;ll bet he was one out of
+          another house.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, it was Amalia&rsquo;s father&mdash;but that isn&rsquo;t
+          it. I have something to tell you, Leentje&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Amalia&mdash;who is Amalia?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That was my bride, but&mdash;Leentje, I wanted to tell you
+          something&mdash;sh!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb81"
+          href="#pb81">81</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Your bride! Are you mad, Walter? Your bride?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, she was; but now no more. I was going to help her&mdash;but
+          a duck came&mdash;but that isn&rsquo;t it, Leentje. Now I see it all&mdash;sh.
+          I swam by&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Who, what? Swam by?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;By Amalia. She sat on the rushes&mdash;now I understand it all&mdash;I
+          am&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand a word, Walter. But the women&mdash;why
+          did you want to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Poor innocent Leentje.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The women were in the book&mdash;but listen, I am&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And the cloisters?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That has nothing to do with it&mdash;I know everything now.
+          Listen Leentje, I am&mdash;sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;For Heaven sake, Walter, what&rsquo;s the matter with you? You
+          look as if you were mad.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had a vision. He stretched himself up, cast a proud glance at
+          the beams in the ceiling, placed his right hand over his heart,
+          extended his left, as if he were draping a Spanish mantle about him&mdash;remember
+          that he had never been in a theatre&mdash;and said:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Leentje, I am a prince.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At that moment his mother came in, boxed his ears and sent him out of
+          the room.
+        </p>
+        <hr class="tb" />
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s principality was in the moon&mdash;no, much farther
+          away.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In the following the reader shall learn how he had attained to this
+          new dignity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Long before the beginning of this story&mdash;yes, a long <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb82" href="#pb82">82</a>]</span>time before
+          this&mdash;there was a queen of spirits, just like in &ldquo;Hans
+          Heiling.&rdquo; Her name was A&mdash;&mdash;o.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She did not live in a cave, but held her court far up in the clouds;
+          and this was airier and more suitable for a queen.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She wore a necklace of stars, and a sun was set in her signet-ring.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Whenever she went forth, the clouds flew about like dust, and with a
+          motion of her hand she drove away the firmaments.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Her children played with planets as with marbles, and she complained
+          that it was so difficult for her to find them again when they had
+          rolled away under the furniture.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The little son of the queen, <span class="corr" id="xd0e2111"
+          title="Source: Price">Prince</span> Upsilon, was peevish over this and
+          was continually calling for more playthings.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The queen then gave him a sack of siriuses; but in a short time these,
+          too, were all lost. It was Upsilon&rsquo;s own fault: He ought to have
+          paid more attention to his playthings.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          They tried to satisfy him as best they could, but no matter what they
+          gave him, he always wanted something else, something larger. This was
+          a defect in the character of the little prince.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mother, who, as queen of the spirits, was a very intelligent
+          woman, thought it would be a good idea for the little prince to
+          accustom himself to privations.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She issued an order, therefore, that for a certain time Upsilon was to
+          have no playthings.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The order was carried out. Everything was taken <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb83" href="#pb83">83</a>]</span>away from him, even the comet
+          that he and his little sister Omicron happened to be playing with.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Prince Upsilon was somewhat stubborn. He so far forgot himself one day
+          as to speak disrespectfully to his mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Even Princess Omicron was contaminated by his example&mdash;nothing is
+          worse than a bad example&mdash;and violently threw her pallet against
+          the universe. That was not becoming in a girl.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Now, in the kingdom of spirits, there was a law to the effect, that
+          anyone showing disrespect toward the queen, or throwing anything
+          against the universe, should be deprived of all titles and dignities
+          for a certain length of time.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Prince Upsilon became a grain of sand.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After he had behaved himself well in this capacity for a few centuries
+          he received the news that he had been promoted to be a moss plant.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then one morning he woke up and found himself a coral zo&ouml;phyte.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That occurred about the time that man began to cook his food.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was industrious, building up islands and continents on the earth.
+          In recognition of his zeal he was turned into a crab.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In this capacity, too, there could be no complaint against him, and he
+          was soon transferred to the class of sea-serpents.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He played some innocent pranks on sailors, but he never harmed anyone.
+          Soon he received four feet and the rank of a mastodon, with the
+          privilege of roaming over the land. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb84"
+          href="#pb84">84</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With the self-control of a philosopher he entered upon his new life,
+          busying himself with geological investigations.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A few centuries later&mdash;remember that in the kingdom of spirits
+          all time taken together is only as a short quarter of an hour&mdash;or
+          to speak more correctly, that all time is nothing. For time was made
+          merely for man, for his amusement, and given to him just as we give
+          picture books to children. For spirits, present, past and future are
+          all the same. They comprehend yesterday, to-day and to-morrow at a
+          glance, just as one reads a word without spelling it out. What was and
+          is going to be, <i>is</i>.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Egyptians and Ph&oelig;nicians knew that very well, but Christians
+          have forgotten it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Fancy knew that Walter could not read, so she related Upsilon&rsquo;s
+          story to him, just as I am doing for the reader.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Some centuries later he had become an elephant; then a moment later,
+          <i>i. e.</i>, about ten years before the opening of my story&mdash;I
+          mean years as we mortals reckon them&mdash;he was elevated to the
+          class of man.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I don&rsquo;t know what sins he may have committed as an elephant.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Anyway, Fancy had said, that in order to return to his station as a
+          spirit-prince in a short time and escape any further degradation it
+          was necessary for him to be diligent and well behaved in his present
+          state, and not write any robber songs, or slip out things and sell
+          them&mdash;even if it was only a Bible.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And, too, he must become reconciled to seeing Juffrouw <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb85" href="#pb85">85</a>]</span>Pieterse
+          without a train on her dress. Fancy said it couldn&rsquo;t be helped.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This &ldquo;Fancy&rdquo; must have been some lady at his mother&rsquo;s
+          court, who visited him in his exile to comfort and encourage him, so
+          that he wouldn&rsquo;t think they were punishing him because they were
+          angry with him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She promised to visit him from time to time. &ldquo;But,&rdquo; asked
+          Walter, &ldquo;how is my little sister getting along?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She&rsquo;s being punished, too. You know the law. She is
+          patient with it all and promises to improve. At first she was a
+          fire-ball; but she behaved so nicely that she was soon changed to a
+          moon-beam; and also in this state there was nothing against her. It
+          seemed to be a pleasure for her; and it was all her mother could do to
+          keep from shortening the punishment. She was soon turned into vapor,
+          and stood the test well; for she filled the universe. That was about
+          the time you began to eat grass. Soon she was a butterfly. But your
+          mother did not consider this suitable for a girl and had her changed
+          into a constellation. There she stands before us now.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It often happens that we do not see a thing because it is too big.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Look,&rdquo; said Fancy. &ldquo;There&mdash;to the right! No,
+          further&mdash;there, there&mdash;the north star! That is her left eye.
+          You can&rsquo;t see her right, because she is bending over towards
+          Orion, the doll which she holds in her lap and caresses.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter saw it plainly enough and cried: &ldquo;Omicron, Omicron!&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb86" href="#pb86">86</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, prince,&rdquo; said the lady of the court, &ldquo;that
+          will not do. Each must undergo his punishment alone. It&rsquo;s
+          already a great concession that you two are imprisoned in the same
+          universe. Recently, when your little brothers flooded the milky way
+          with sin, they were separated completely.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was sad. How gladly would he have kissed his little sister!&mdash;that
+          group of stars nursing the doll.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, Fancy, let me be with Omicron.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Fancy said neither yes nor no.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She looked as if she were reflecting on the possibility of
+          accomplishing the almost impossible.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter, taking courage from her hesitation, repeated his request.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, let me live with my little sister again, even if I have to
+          eat grass or build continents&mdash;I will eat and build with
+          pleasure, if I may only be with Omicron.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Probably Fancy was afraid to promise something beyond her power; and
+          she was sorry not to be able to give her promise.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will ask,&rdquo; she whispered, &ldquo;and now&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter rubbed his eyes. There was the bridge and the ditch. He heard
+          the ducks cackling from the distance. He saw his mills again. Yes,
+          yes, there they were. But their name was no longer&mdash;what was
+          their name?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mills were called &ldquo;Morning Hour&rdquo; and &ldquo;Eagle,&rdquo;
+          and they called out just like other sawmills: &ldquo;Karre, karre,
+          kra, kra&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thereupon Walter went home. We have already seen what awaited him
+          there. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb87" href="#pb87">87</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch13" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XIII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The preacher had come and gone. Sentence had been passed and the
+          penalty paid. But Walter was depressed and despondent. Leentje did her
+          best to put some animation into him, but in vain. Perhaps it was
+          because she no longer understood her ward.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Those confidential communications of Walter&rsquo;s were beyond her
+          comprehension; and often she looked at him as if she doubted his
+          sanity. From her meagre weekly allowance she saved a few doits,
+          thinking to gladden Walter&rsquo;s heart with some ginger cakes, which
+          he had always enjoyed. It was no use: Walter&rsquo;s soul had outgrown
+          ginger cakes. This discovery caused Leentje bitter pain.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, my dear child, be reasonable, and don&rsquo;t worry over
+          such foolishness. This Fancy, or whatever the creature&rsquo;s name
+          is, has mocked you; or you have dreamed it all.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, no, Leentje. It&rsquo;s all true. I know everything she
+          said, and it&rsquo;s all true.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Walter, that story about your sister&mdash;you would have
+          known that long ago.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I did know it, but I had forgotten it. I knew everything that
+          Fancy told me. It had only slipped out of my mind. When she spoke,
+          then it all came back to me distinctly.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb88" href="#pb88">88</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will go to those mills some day,&rdquo; said Leentje.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And she did it. After Walter&rsquo;s description she was able to find
+          the place where that important meeting had taken place. She saw the
+          timbers, the dirt, the ducks, the meadow&mdash;everything was there,
+          even the ashes,&mdash;everything except Fancy and her stories.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Nor could Walter find Fancy now. In vain did he go out walking with
+          those respectable Halleman boys as often as he was in the way at home.
+          For hours he would stand on the bridge and listen to the rattling of
+          the sawmills; but they told him nothing, and Fancy would not return.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She has too much to do at my mother&rsquo;s court,&rdquo;
+          Walter sighed, and went home sad and disappointed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When he looked out the window and saw the beautiful stars twinkling
+          encouragement to him, he cheered up a little. His sadness was less
+          bitter, but it was still there. Pain passed into home-sickness, a
+          sweet longing for home, and with tears in his eyes, but no longer
+          despairing, he whispered &ldquo;Omicron, Omicron!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Who heard that call, or understood his grief over his exile? Who
+          observed how that sigh for the &ldquo;higher&rdquo; and that fiery
+          desire had passed into a nobler state?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After long deliberations and Walter&rsquo;s express promise to do
+          better, Master Pennewip had at last been prevailed upon to allow our
+          young robber to return to school. He now had the opportunity to
+          perfect himself in verse-writing, penmanship, verbs, &ldquo;Holland
+          Counts&rdquo; and other equally important things.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The teacher said that the boy at Muiderberg had <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb89" href="#pb89">89</a>]</span>been still worse, and he had
+          known what to prescribe. Walter would do all right now, he thought;
+          but Juffrouw Pieterse must get another pastor, for the present one
+          belonged to the class of &ldquo;drinkers.&rdquo; This she did. Walter
+          was to receive religious instruction from a real preacher.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I don&rsquo;t remember the title of the book, but the first lines
+          were:
+        </p>
+        <div class="blockquote">
+          <p>
+            &ldquo;<i>Q.</i> From whom did you and everything in existence have
+            its origin?&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          Walter wanted to say, From my mother; but the book said:
+        </p>
+        <div class="blockquote">
+          <p>
+            &ldquo;<i>Ans.</i> From God, who made everything out of nothing.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            &ldquo;<i>Q.</i> How do you know that?<span class="corr"
+            id="xd0e2265" title="Not in source">&rdquo;</span>
+          </p>
+          <p>
+            &ldquo;<i>Ans.</i> From nature and revelation.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          Walter didn&rsquo;t know what it meant, but like the good-natured,
+          obedient child that he was, he repeated faithfully what he had
+          memorized from the book. It was annoying for him to have his Sundays
+          spoiled by recitations in the Kings of Israel&mdash;days so well
+          suited for rambling. He was jealous of the Jews, who were always led
+          away&mdash;a misfortune that seemed delightful to him. But he worked
+          away patiently, and was not the worst of those apprentices in
+          religion. At the end of the year he received a book containing three
+          hundred and sixty-five scriptural texts, twenty-one prayers, as many
+          graces, the Lord&rsquo;s Prayer, the ten commandments and the articles
+          of faith. It also contained directions for using it&mdash;once a day
+          through the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb90" href="#pb90">90</a>]</span>year,
+          three times a day for a week, etc., etc.; or simply use as needed. On
+          a leaf pasted in the front of the book was written:
+        </p>
+        <div class="blockquote">
+          <p class="aligncenter">
+            <i>To Walter Pieterse</i><br /> as a<br /> <i>Reward</i><br /> for<br />
+            <i>Excellent recitations</i><br /> in the<br /> <i>Noorderkerk</i><br />
+            and as an<br /> <i>Encouragement</i><br /> for him to continue to<br />
+            <i>Honor God</i><br /> in the manner in which he has begun.
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          Under this were the names of the preacher and the officers of the
+          church, ornamented with flourishes that would have put Pennewip to
+          shame.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The outward respectability of the Hallemans continued to increase. The
+          parents of these children had hired a garden on the &ldquo;Overtoom.&rdquo;
+          That was so &ldquo;far out,&rdquo; they said; and then they &ldquo;couldn&rsquo;t
+          stay in the city forever.&rdquo; Besides, the expense was &ldquo;not
+          so much&rdquo;; for there was one gardener for everybody; and then,
+          there were plenty of berries growing there, and that was always very
+          nice. There would be grass enough for bleaching the linen&mdash;an
+          important item, for just lately, said the mother of the Hallemans,
+          there had been iron-rust in Betty&rsquo;s dress. For that reason it
+          was the very thing to rent the garden; and if people said anything
+          about it, it would only be because they were jealous. And, too, there
+          was a barrel there for rainwater; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb91"
+          href="#pb91">91</a>]</span>and Mrs. Karels had said it leaked, but it
+          was not true; for everyone must know what he&rsquo;s doing; but when
+          you do anything, everybody is talking about it. If one paid any
+          attention to it, one would never get anything done&mdash;and it would
+          be such a recreation for the children. Juffrouw Karels ought to attend
+          to her own business&mdash;and when Gustave&rsquo;s birthday came, he
+          might invite some &ldquo;young gentlemen.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Gustave&rsquo;s birthday came. &ldquo;Young gentlemen&rdquo; were to
+          be invited, and&mdash;Walter was among that select number.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It would lead me too far from the subject to enter upon an
+          investigation of the motives that prompted Gustave and Franz to invite
+          their former partner in the peppermint business. The list was made out
+          and approved by their mother; and as Juffrouw Pieterse felt flattered,
+          there was no objection from her side. Walter must promise, of course,
+          to behave properly and be &ldquo;respectable,&rdquo; not to soil his
+          clothes, not to wrestle and tear his clothes, and many other things of
+          a similar nature. Juffrouw Pieterse added that it was a great favor on
+          her part to let him go, for such visits made a lot of work for her.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, Walter was to make a visit! Eat, drink and enjoy himself under a
+          strange roof. It was a great event in his life, and already he was
+          becoming less jealous of the Jews, who went away so often, and finally
+          never came back home at all.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was midday now&mdash;that glorious midday. With <span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e2330" title="Source: indiscribable">indescribable</span>
+          dignity, for a boy, Walter stepped through the gate-way. &ldquo;A
+          little to right&mdash;to the left, to the left again, then over a
+          bridge, and then to the right <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb92"
+          href="#pb92">92</a>]</span>straight ahead. You can&rsquo;t miss it,&rdquo;
+          Gustave had said. The name of the garden was &ldquo;City Rest,&rdquo;
+          so all Walter had to do was to &ldquo;ask,&rdquo; and he would &ldquo;find
+          it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And so it was.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Anyone making a call or visit for the first time always arrives too
+          early. So it was with Walter, who reached City Rest before any of the
+          other guests. But the boys received him cordially and presented him to
+          their mother, who said that Walter had a pretty face, if it were only
+          not so pale.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The other playmates came then, and running and throwing began, in the
+          customary boyish style. This was interrupted with waffles and
+          lemonade, which they &ldquo;must drink quite slowly,&rdquo; because
+          they were &ldquo;wet with perspiration.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When the proud mother of the Hallemans was speaking of berries and the
+          grossly slandered rainwater barrel, she might have mentioned the
+          advantages of the leafy bower, where Betty was now sitting with a
+          gentleman.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Who is that?&rdquo; asked Walter of little Emma, who was
+          playing with the boys.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That? That&rsquo;s Betty&rsquo;s sweetheart.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          From that touching story of slender Cecilia we know that Walter
+          already had his first love affair behind him; but still Emma&rsquo;s
+          statement was to him something new. Up to that time he had thought
+          that a sweetheart was a girl to whom one gives slatepencils and
+          bonbons. But she seemed to be above such things. Walter saw
+          immediately that he had not taken the right course with Cecilia; and
+          all at once a desire <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb93" href="#pb93">93</a>]</span>came
+          over him to know how a grown man treats a girl who is through school.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Her sweetheart?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh yes&mdash;engag&eacute;!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That word was too modern for Walter. If the reader is sharp he can
+          calculate in what year that girl married the barber&rsquo;s
+          apprentice. All that is necessary is to determine when that stupid
+          engag&eacute; came into use in this sense in &ldquo;III. 7, a.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What did you say?&rdquo; asked Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Engag&eacute;&mdash;they go together.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What is that?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, they&rsquo;re going to get married. Don&rsquo;t you know?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was ashamed not to know such a simple thing; and, as is often
+          the case, he was ashamed of being ashamed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, of course I know. I hadn&rsquo;t understood right
+          well. Emma&mdash;will you marry me?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For the moment Emma was unable to accommodate him, as she was engag&eacute;
+          with her mother; but as soon as she was free she would consider the
+          matter, and Walter would probably be favored. She looked at him
+          sweetly&mdash;and then the game called her to another part of the
+          yard.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Love is the instinct for unity&mdash;and the instinct for
+          multiplicity. As everywhere, nature is simple here in principle, but
+          manifold in application. The love of a thief means: Come, we will go
+          steal together. The servant of the Word unites with his loved one in
+          prayer and psalm, etc., every animal after his kind. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb94" href="#pb94">94</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Or is this instinct to share, to be together, to be united at the same
+          the instinct for the good?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In Walter&rsquo;s case it was, even though he himself did not know it.
+          Had he not, in the name of Cecilia, liberated a bird that fluttered
+          about its narrow cage in distress? Of course Cecilia had laughed and
+          asked Walter if he was crazy. She did not know that there was any
+          connection between his sympathy for the poor little bird and the
+          beating of his heart when he scratched her name on the frozen
+          window-pane in the back room. Perhaps she would have understood if she
+          had loved Walter; but that was impossible, because he still wore his
+          jacket stuffed in his trousers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At all events, it was not possible for him to think of anything bad
+          when he called &ldquo;Omicron.&rdquo; He had now forgotten Cecilia,
+          and would have been greatly surprised if she had appeared in answer to
+          his call. Little Emma would have come nearer meeting his requirements.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter felt that he must know just how the young man was proceeding
+          with Betty in the bower. He soon found an excuse to separate himself
+          from his companions; and then he heard all sorts of things that did
+          not make him much wiser.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, I said so too. In May&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, on account of the top story&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s annoying! And what does your mother say?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Hm&mdash;she says we must wait another year, that it isn&rsquo;t
+          respectable to get married in such a hurry&mdash;it&rsquo;s just as if&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Four years&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb95" href="#pb95">95</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, four years. Louw and Anna have been engaged for seven.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was proud that he knew exactly what it all meant. To rent an
+          upper story together, preferably in May!&mdash;that was the way he
+          understood it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And do you get that press for the linen?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother wants to keep it. But if we will only wait a year
+          she will give us another one&mdash;a small one.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The big one would have been nicer.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I think so too, but she says young people don&rsquo;t need a
+          big press. But when my sister was married she got a big one.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Tell them you want a big one too.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s no use.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Try it. I won&rsquo;t marry without that big one.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will make them&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This is a fair sample of what Walter overheard. He was dissatisfied
+          and slipped away and hid himself, lost in thought. He didn&rsquo;t
+          even know himself what was the matter with him; but when Emma came and
+          called him he looked as if he had been thinking of anything else but
+          presses and vacant flats, for in a tone at once joyous and fearful he
+          cried:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Could it be she&mdash;my little sister?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was evening now, and the children were to continue their games
+          indoors. As the little party was tired, one of the grown-ups was going
+          to tell a story.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Just what &ldquo;grown-up&rdquo; had been requisitioned to narrate the
+          story of Paradise and Peri, I don&rsquo;t know. Anyway the story
+          hardly harmonized with Betty&rsquo;s <i>engagement</i> and that
+          love-obstructing clothes-press. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb96"
+          href="#pb96">96</a>]</span>But just as Fortune is said to smile on
+          everyone once in a lifetime, so, in the midst of the flatness and
+          insipidity of everyday life, it seems that something always happens
+          which gives that one who lays hold of it opportunity to lift himself
+          above the ordinary and commonplace. To the drowning man a voice calls:
+          &ldquo;Stretch out thy arms, thou canst swim.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;After Peri had begged long, but in vain, at the gates of
+          paradise to be admitted to the land of the blessed, she brought at
+          last, as the most beautiful thing in the world, the sigh of a
+          repentant sinner; and she found favor with the keeper of the gate on
+          account of the sacredness of the gift she had brought&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Let&rsquo;s play forfeits now!&rdquo; cried Gustave.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Forfeits! Forfeits!&rdquo; everybody called out after him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And they played forfeits. Pawns were redeemed; and of course there was
+          some kissing done. Riddles were given that nobody could guess; and who
+          ever knew must not tell&mdash;a usual condition in this game.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Heavy, heavy hangs over your head; what shall the owner do to
+          possess it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Stand on one leg for five minutes.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Let him jump over a straw&mdash;or recite a poem!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, a fable&mdash;la cigale, or something like that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was Walter&rsquo;s pawn.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know any fable,&rdquo; he said, embarrassed;
+          &ldquo;and I don&rsquo;t know French either.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will help you,&rdquo; cried Emma. &ldquo;Le pere, du pere&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb97" href="#pb97">97</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s no fable! Go ahead, Walter!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For some of the party it was a joy that Walter knew no Fable and no
+          French. If it were only known how often one can do a kindness by being
+          stupid, perhaps many, out of love for humanity, would affect
+          stupidity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Walter did not think of the pleasure of the others&mdash;which he
+          could not have understood. He wept, and was angry at Master Pennewip,
+          who had taught him no French and no fable.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Forward, Walter, forward!&rdquo; insisted the holder of the
+          pawn.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It needn&rsquo;t be French. Just tell a fable.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But I don&rsquo;t know what a fable is.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s a story with animals.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, or with trees! <span lang="fr">Le ch&ecirc;ne un jour dit
+          au roseau</span>&mdash;don&rsquo;t you see, you can have one without
+          animals.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes, a fable is just a story&mdash;nothing else. You can
+          have in it anything you want to.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But it must rhyme!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was thinking about reciting his robber song, but fortunately he
+          reconsidered the matter. That would have been scandalous in the home
+          of the Hallemans, who were so particularly respectable.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No,&rdquo; cried another, who was again wiser than all the
+          rest, &ldquo;it needn&rsquo;t rhyme. The cow gives milk&mdash;Jack saw
+          the plums hanging&mdash;Prince William the First was a great thinker.
+          Don&rsquo;t you see, Walter, it&rsquo;s as easy as rolling off of a
+          log. Go ahead and tell something, or else you won&rsquo;t get your
+          pawn.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb98" href="#pb98">98</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter began.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A little boy died once who was not allowed to go to heaven&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oho! That&rsquo;s the story of Peri. Tell something else.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I was going to change it,&rdquo; said Walter, embarrassed.
+          &ldquo;And so the little boy couldn&rsquo;t enter the heavenly gates,
+          because he didn&rsquo;t know French, and because he had sometimes been
+          bad, and because he hadn&rsquo;t learned his lessons, and also because
+          he&mdash;because he&rdquo;&mdash;&mdash;I believe Walter had something
+          on the end of his tongue about his mother&rsquo;s box of savings, but
+          he swallowed it, that he might not offend the Hallemans by any
+          allusion to the peppermint business&mdash;&ldquo;because he once
+          laughed during prayers. For it is certain, boys, that if you laugh
+          during prayers you&rsquo;ll never get to heaven.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So&mdash;o-oo?&rdquo; asked several, conscious of their guilt.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, they can&rsquo;t go to heaven. Now the boy had had a
+          sister, who died one year before him. He had loved her a lot, and when
+          he died he began to hunt for his sister right away. &lsquo;Who is your
+          sister?&rsquo; he was asked.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Who asked him that?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Be still! Don&rsquo;t interrupt him. Let Walter tell his story!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know who asked that. The boy said that his little
+          sister had on a blue dress and had dimples in her cheeks, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just like Emma!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, exactly like Emma. They told him that there was a little
+          girl in heaven that looked just like that. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb99" href="#pb99">99</a>]</span>She had come the year before, and
+          had asked them to let her brother in, who would certainly inquire
+          after her. But the boy could not go in. I have already said why.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Had the little girl always learned her lessons?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course! Don&rsquo;t you see she had? Let Walter go on with
+          his story!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It was sad that he could not get to see his sister any more. He
+          felt that it hadn&rsquo;t really been worth the trouble to die.
+          &lsquo;Oh, just let me in!&rsquo; he begged the gentleman at the door&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;At the gate!&rdquo; corrected several simultaneously, who,
+          though untouched by the sublimity of Walter&rsquo;s conception of
+          death, were offended by the commonplaceness of the word door. But such
+          things happen frequently.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All right!&rdquo; said Walter. He was ashamed that he had
+          offended against propriety. &ldquo;The gentleman at the gate said,
+          &lsquo;No!&rsquo; and then the poor boy returned to the earth.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That won&rsquo;t do,&rdquo; cried the philosophical
+          contingency, &ldquo;whoever is dead remains dead.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t interrupt him. Of course it&rsquo;s only a story!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter continued: &ldquo;He returned to the earth and learned French.
+          Then he appeared at the gate again and said, &lsquo;Oui, Monsieur!&rsquo;
+          but it did no good; he was not admitted.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I should think not; he ought to have said: &lsquo;j&rsquo;aime,
+          tu aimes.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know anything about that,&rdquo; Walter replied.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then he went to the earth again and learned his lessons till he
+          could say them backwards. He did <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb100"
+          href="#pb100">100</a>]</span>this for the keeper of the gate; but all
+          this did no good; he was not allowed to go in.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course not,&rdquo; cried one of the wise ones, &ldquo;to get
+          to heaven you must be confirmed. Had he been confirmed?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No. That&rsquo;s the reason it was so difficult. Then he tried
+          something else. He said that he was engaged to his sister.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just like Betty,&rdquo; cried Emma.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, like Betty&mdash;and that he loved her and wanted to marry
+          her. But it was all of no use; they wouldn&rsquo;t let him into
+          heaven.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Finally he didn&rsquo;t dare go to the gate any more, for fear
+          the keeper would get angry at him.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And then? What happened?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; Walter stuttered. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+          know what he ought to do to get to heaven.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter knew the rest of the story very well, but he couldn&rsquo;t put
+          it into words. This was shown in a peculiar manner an hour later.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On the way home the party was almost run over by a wagon just as they
+          were crossing a bridge. In the commotion Emma slipped under the
+          railing and fell into the stream. Somebody screamed, and Walter sprang
+          after her.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If he had died at that moment the keeper of the gate would hardly have
+          turned him away because he didn&rsquo;t know French and had not been
+          confirmed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When he was brought home, wet and dirty, Juffrouw Pieterse said that
+          one ought not to tempt the Master, and that&rsquo;s what one did when
+          one jumped into the water without being able to swim. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb101" href="#pb101">101</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But I find that the man who can&rsquo;t swim is the very one to expect
+          something of the Master; for the man who can swim has some prospect of
+          helping himself.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And Juffrouw Pieterse complained that there was &ldquo;always
+          something the matter with that boy.&rdquo; There was something the
+          matter with him. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb102" href="#pb102">102</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch14" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XIV
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse must have inherited something, for all at once the
+          Pieterses moved to a more respectable neighborhood, and the daughters
+          no longer knew any of the girls that they used to sew with. Such
+          things do happen in cases of inheritance, when one moves to a more
+          select quarter. Besides, there were other signs. They exerted
+          themselves in trying to get Leentje to speak &ldquo;better Dutch.&rdquo;
+          Stoffel was zealous in teaching her, but Juffrouw Pieterse spoiled
+          everything by her bad example.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was now wearing a new jacket, with a small collar, such as
+          cabmen wore later. For him a jacket to stuff in the trousers was a
+          thing of the past. It &ldquo;looked so babyish,&rdquo; the young
+          ladies said, and was &ldquo;out of the question now when the boy can
+          write poetry.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That Walter could write poetry was boasted of to everybody that would
+          listen. Under the circumstances they really had no right to reap any
+          fame from Walter&rsquo;s robber song; but this only showed what an
+          important r&ocirc;le vanity plays in the world. Of course he himself
+          never heard anything of this; it was mentioned only when he was not
+          present.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The image of Cecilia had disappeared from Walter&rsquo;s <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb103" href="#pb103">103</a>]</span>heart; and
+          little Emma was forgotten. Omicron must show her face in the stars
+          from time to time to remind the child of his love. And even when he
+          looked at the evening sky and his soul was stirred by an inexpressible
+          longing after the good, it was not so much that he was thinking of
+          Omicron as that he was moved by vague sweet memories. In the twelve
+          years of his life there was a mythical prehistoric period which was
+          difficult to separate from the historical period.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He didn&rsquo;t know that he could write verses. He accepted it as a
+          matter of course that his robber song was very poor, and looked upon
+          Klaasje van der Gracht with awe. It was from Juffrouw Laps he learned
+          that he could write poetry; and it was an illumination for him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps had an uncle whose birthday was coming the next week.
+          She had paid the Pieterses a swell visit to ask if Walter wouldn&rsquo;t
+          write her a poem for the occasion. She would see that he got some
+          bonbons.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But Juffrouw Pieterse, you must tell him that it must be
+          religious and that my uncle is a widower. He must bring that in. I
+          should like for it to be in the melody of the 103d psalm, for my uncle
+          has that psalm in his lyre.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reader will note that she did not mean the lyre of Apollo. What
+          she spoke of was a thing that turned, and made a screechy noise.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse was going to speak with Walter about it when he came
+          from school, but first she had to consider the matter with Stoffel, to
+          decide whether it should be a request or a command, so that Walter
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb104" href="#pb104">104</a>]</span>would
+          have no reason to be &ldquo;stuck-up.&rdquo; For that she could not
+          endure in a child.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Walter, did you know your lesson?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother; I had to learn thirteen mountains in Asia, and I
+          knew only nine.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Now, look here, that won&rsquo;t do. I&rsquo;m paying tuition
+          for nothing. Do you think money grows on my back? I don&rsquo;t know
+          what&rsquo;s to become of you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know, either.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After all, though, Walter was flattered by the commission to write a
+          poem. Stoffel&rsquo;s and Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s efforts to conceal
+          their real opinion of his poetical talents had been useless. It was a
+          pleasant surprise for the boy to learn that he was looked up to. He
+          had always heard that he was worse than worthless, and that he would
+          never amount to anything. It interested him now to hear the assurance
+          of his mother and Stoffel that the commission was only a punishment
+          for not knowing the mountains in Asia. In a great rush Stoffel taught
+          him the difference between &ldquo;masculine&rdquo; and &ldquo;feminine&rdquo;
+          verses, explaining that these must alternate, that all must be of the
+          same length, and that if at any time the boy was in doubt he would
+          clear the matter up, etc., etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was delighted. He went to the back room, got a slate pencil and
+          began to write. It could hardly be called a success. &ldquo;A widower
+          of God&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;O God, a widower!&rdquo; That was as far as
+          he got.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He gnawed on the pencil till he had pulverized it and worn out his
+          teeth, but it wouldn&rsquo;t go. He was continually being interrupted
+          by Stoffel&rsquo;s masculine and feminine verses. He had been too
+          proud, and <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb105" href="#pb105">105</a>]</span>now
+          he was receiving his punishment. He began to believe that his mother
+          was right when she said nothing would ever come of him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Nor could Leentje help him. So he determined to make another attempt
+          to-morrow. Perhaps he could do better then. Leentje agreed with him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Juffrouw Pieterse. &ldquo;But don&rsquo;t
+          disgrace us all. Remember, I told Juffrouw Laps you could do it; and
+          the man&rsquo;s birthday comes Thursday week. So you haven&rsquo;t any
+          too much time.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter went to Ash Gate, found his bridge and began to weep bitterly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;See what&rsquo;s the matter with that boy,&rdquo; he heard a
+          woman saying to a girl fourteen or fifteen years old. &ldquo;Perhaps
+          he has lost something.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Have you lost anything?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter looked up, and was surprised; for he seemed to have seen that
+          face before. It reminded him of Fancy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Now, everything will be all right There you are; and I have
+          been hunting for you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;For me?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes, but I just didn&rsquo;t know it. But I know it now.
+          Tell me right quick how to write the poem!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl, who was helping her mother place the linen on the grass for
+          bleaching, looked at Walter in astonishment. She hurried back to her
+          mother to say that she didn&rsquo;t know what was the matter with the
+          boy, but that there was certainly something wrong. &ldquo;He looks as
+          if he were scared half to death,&rdquo; she decided.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then she ran and fetched water from the house near <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb106" href="#pb106">106</a>]</span>by and
+          made Walter drink. He saw that he had made a mistake; but there was
+          something in the manner of the girl that drew him to her irresistibly,
+          even though her name was only Femke. So the mother addressed her. And
+          this name reminded him of Fancy, which was something.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke pointed to an inverted basket and told him to tell the cause of
+          his trouble; and Walter did it as well as he could, while the mother
+          was busy with the linen.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Maybe I can help you,&rdquo; the mother said. &ldquo;I have a
+          nephew who is a widower.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Juffrouw&mdash;but the poem? And there must be something
+          about God in it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly. It&rsquo;s a long story. His wife was a niece of my
+          husband&rsquo;s&mdash;you see we are Catholics, and she acted
+          according to her religion&mdash;put a stone on those cloths, Femke, or
+          they&rsquo;ll blow away&mdash;yes, bleaching is a job. You have no
+          idea what a bother it is&mdash;yes, she acted according to her
+          religion; and that was right. People that don&rsquo;t do that are not
+          much. But he&mdash;draw that shirt back a little, Femke. The sleeve is
+          hanging in the ditch&mdash;but he didn&rsquo;t believe in it, and said
+          it was all nonsense. But when she died, and he saw all that was done
+          for her&mdash;it was Father Jansen who was there. Of course you know
+          him&mdash;he always walks with a black cane, but he never lets it
+          touch the ground&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The women looked at Walter questioningly. The poor boy sat on the
+          basket, his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands. He had
+          listened with open mouth, wondering how he was going to apply it all
+          to his poem. Of Father Jansen and that cane which <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb107" href="#pb107">107</a>]</span>despised the ground he had
+          never heard. This he had to confess.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, it was Father Jansen who was there, and when my husband&rsquo;s
+          nephew saw all that&mdash;don&rsquo;t spill any, Femke, or the mud
+          will splatter so bad&mdash;yes, when he saw that a human being doesn&rsquo;t
+          die like an animal, then he was more respectful, and after that he
+          observed Easter like other people. And last year when he broke his leg&mdash;he&rsquo;s
+          a dyer, you know&mdash;he drew thirteen stivers for nine weeks. And so
+          I wanted to tell you that there&rsquo;s a widower in our family. And
+          now you must get up, for I need the basket.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter arose quickly, as if he feared he might seem to be trespassing;
+          and the woman went away, after having warned Femke to watch the linen
+          and call her if any bad boys should come along.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you better now?&rdquo; Femke asked kindly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh yes; but I don&rsquo;t see how I&rsquo;m to use all that in
+          my poem. You must remember that it has to rhyme, and the verses must
+          be of the same length, and that they must be masculine and feminine;
+          for my brother said so, and he&rsquo;s a school-teacher.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke reflected, then all at once she cried, &ldquo;Do you know Latin?&rdquo;
+          As if Latin would help Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No,&rdquo; disconsolately.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, it really makes no difference. It&rsquo;s in Dutch, too.
+          Just watch the linen a minute.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter promised, and Femke ran to the house.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then some boys came along throwing rocks. Walter, conscious of his
+          responsibility, called to them to desist&mdash;or words to that
+          effect. This only made them worse. They came closer, and, to worry
+          Walter, began <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb108" href="#pb108">108</a>]</span>to
+          walk over the linen. For him it was as if they were mistreating Femke,
+          and he charged on the miscreants. But it was two against one, and a
+          weaker one at that; so he would have soon been defeated if his lady
+          had not returned quickly. She rescued him and drove off his
+          assailants; and when she saw that his lip was bleeding she gave him a
+          kiss. The boy&rsquo;s heart trembled; all at once his soul was lifted
+          to an unfamiliar level; and for the first time in weeks he felt again
+          that princely nature that had given Leentje such a fright. His eyes
+          shone, and the boy, who but a moment ago did not know how he was to
+          write some rhymes, was filled with the feelings and emotions that make
+          poets of men.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;O Fancy, Fancy, to die for thee&mdash;to die with such a kiss
+          on the lips!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It hurt him to think that the boys were gone. If there had been ten of
+          them he would have had courage for the unequal fight.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And Femke, who had never heard of poetical overflows, understood him
+          immediately, for she was a pure, innocent girl. She felt Walter&rsquo;s
+          chivalry, and knew that she was the lady to reward it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You are a dear sweet boy,&rdquo; she said, taking his head
+          between her hands and kissing him again, and again&mdash;as if she had
+          done something of this kind before. But such was not the case.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And now you must read the verses in the little book. Maybe it
+          will help you to write for your aunt&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She isn&rsquo;t my aunt,&rdquo; Walter said, &ldquo;but of
+          course I will look through the book.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb109" href="#pb109">109</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He laid it on the railing of the bridge and began to read. Femke, who
+          was taller than he, had put one arm around his neck, while with the
+          other hand she was pointing out what he should read.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see?&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;the lines are the
+          same length.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, but they don&rsquo;t rhyme.&rdquo; And Walter read:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            Mother most pure,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Mother undefiled,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Virgin most powerful,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Virgin most merciful,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Virgin most faithful,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Spiritual vessel,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Vessel of honor,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Vessel of singular devotion,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Mystical rose,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Tower of David,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Tower of Ivory,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Gate of Heaven&mdash;&mdash;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Femke, how am I to use that for my poem? I don&rsquo;t
+          understand any of it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke didn&rsquo;t understand much of it either. She had been reading
+          the book every day for the past four or five years, and she had always
+          been satisfied with her comprehension of it. But now she saw that she
+          was as ignorant about it as Walter. She was ashamed and closed the
+          book.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But don&rsquo;t you know what Faith is?&rdquo; she asked, as if
+          this defect might account for the general ignorance of both.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Not that way,&rdquo; Walter replied. &ldquo;I learned it
+          another way.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb110" href="#pb110">110</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But you believe in Jesus, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, yes. That&rsquo;s God&rsquo;s son. But I didn&rsquo;t learn
+          anything about vessels and towers. Do they belong to faith?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, certainly! But you know the holy virgin, Maria!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So? Maria? No, I don&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And Purgatory?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know anything about it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And confession?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What do you do then?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How do you mean, Femke?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I mean to be saved.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; Walter replied. &ldquo;You mean, to
+          get to heaven?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, certainly. That&rsquo;s the point. And you can&rsquo;t do
+          that without the holy virgin and such a book. Shall I teach you the
+          creed, Walter? Then we&rsquo;ll be together in heaven.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That pleased Walter, and Femke and Walter began:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;God created the world&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What did he do before that, Femke?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. But the people were made wicked by a snake;
+          then the Pope pronounced a curse upon the snake, for the Pope lives in
+          Rome, you know. And then Jesus was crucified to make the people good
+          again. That was a long time ago.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, I know,&rdquo; Walter said, &ldquo;Jesus changed the
+          number of the year. At his birth he began at nought.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke didn&rsquo;t know again. In this way each supplemented the
+          knowledge of the other; and Walter was <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb111" href="#pb111">111</a>]</span>proud that he knew something
+          about the creed, even if Femke did think it the wrong creed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And so Jesus made the people good again, and if you will pray
+          out of such a book you will be saved. Do you understand, Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Not quite. What is an ivory tower?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, that&rsquo;s only a name for the virgin. It&rsquo;s as if
+          you were to call the pastor father. Now you understand.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke hunted for another illustration.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You have a mother; what do you call her?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, I call her mother.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Correct. What do the other people call her?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;They call her Juffrouw Pieterse.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just so. When we call the holy virgin &lsquo;ivory tower&rsquo;
+          it&rsquo;s just like calling your mother Juffrouw Pieterse. Ivory gate
+          means that to get to heaven we must go through the holy virgin. That&rsquo;s
+          the main thing.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Femke, what is a virgin?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke blushed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That is anybody that has never had a child.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Me?&rdquo; asked Walter in astonishment.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, child, it must be a girl!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you a virgin?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke spoke the unvarnished truth.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course&mdash;because I&rsquo;m not married.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But Maria was married&mdash;and Jesus was her child.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, that&rsquo;s where the holiness comes in,&rdquo; replied
+          Femke. &ldquo;And for that reason she is called the ivory gate. Do you
+          understand now, Walter?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb112"
+          href="#pb112">112</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter did not understand; but he asked permission to take the book
+          home with him, that he might study it. That, however, was not
+          possible, as Femke needed the book every day. Walter consoled himself
+          easily, for not for anything in the world would he have endangered
+          Femke&rsquo;s salvation. Femke asked him to come again. She would be
+          glad to tell him all she knew about the matter; and, if both should
+          get tangled up, she would ask Father Jansen about it. And then Walter
+          would soon be as wise as she was.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter withdrew; <i>i. e.</i>, after he had kissed Femke heartily.
+          This meeting with her, the mysterious book, salvation, the fight with
+          the boys&mdash;all these things would run through his mind whenever he
+          tried to think of the poem. It seemed to him that there was some
+          connection between them.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When he got home he turned through Stoffel&rsquo;s books, hoping to
+          find something about holy vessels, ivory towers, and immaculate
+          virgins. But they were all school books, and gave information about
+          everything else but salvation. Walter was crushed, but he was still
+          searching.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Master Pennewip had a father and mother; and certainly old
+          Pennewip, too, who slaughtered hogs; and the one before him, too&mdash;but
+          who was the first Pennewip? And who slaughtered the hogs before old
+          Pennewip? And before there were any hogs, what did butchers do? And&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I will know all of that some day, Walter thought. If he could have
+          only quieted himself so well about his poem! If that were only
+          written, he thought, then he would clear up the lost causes of
+          everything. In the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb113" href="#pb113">113</a>]</span>meanwhile
+          he dreamed of Femke, of her blue eyes, her friendliness, her soft lips&mdash;and
+          of her voice, when she said, &ldquo;You are a dear, sweet boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Could it be that she is Omicron? he thought.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And thus the child dreamed, dreamed; and, just as in the development
+          of humanity, in his life was working a three-fold impulse, towards
+          love, knowledge, and conflict.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But Walter, don&rsquo;t you read any books at home about the
+          creed?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus Femke questioned her little friend the next day, as he sat on her
+          basket again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, but they&rsquo;re not pretty.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you know anything by heart?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter repeated a stanza of a reformed church hymn. This found no
+          favor with Femke; though she liked his reciting.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you read anything else?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter reflected: he flew through Stoffel&rsquo;s library&mdash;works
+          of the Poetical Society, Geology by Ippel, On Orthography, Regulations
+          for the Fire-Watch, Story of Joseph by <span class="corr" id="xd0e2819"
+          title="Source: H&uuml;lshoff"> Hulshoff</span>, Brave Henry, Jacob
+          Among His Children, Sermons by <span class="corr" id="xd0e2822"
+          title="Source: Hellendoorm"> Hellendoorn</span>, A Catechism by the
+          same, Hoorn&rsquo;s Song-book.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He felt that all of this would not prove very imposing for Femke.
+          Finally:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I do know something, but it isn&rsquo;t about faith and the
+          creed. It&rsquo;s about Glorioso.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke promised to listen, and he began to relate the story. At first
+          he spoke mechanically, using all the &ldquo;and then&rsquo;s&rdquo;:
+          but soon he put himself into the soul of the hero and told the story
+          better than he had read it in <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb114"
+          href="#pb114">114</a>]</span>the greasy book. At every deed of
+          Glorioso he would spring from the basket and act the part of that hero
+          in a way that made Femke&rsquo;s blood run cold. Still, how
+          magnificent she found it! And when at last he was through, a spark
+          from his peculiar but sincere enthusiasm had fallen into her heart,
+          which like his beat with delight over the beauty of what she had
+          heard. Her cheeks glowed&mdash;really, if a Treckschent had started to
+          Italy at that moment I believe she would have gone along, in order to
+          take part in so much danger and adventure&mdash;and <i>love</i>. The
+          nicest thing about the story was that it showed how firm such a robber
+          is in the faith.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you know another story?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Walter. &ldquo;One more. It&rsquo;s in a
+          little book&mdash;a calendar, I believe.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And he related the story of Telasco and Kusco and the beautiful
+          Aztalpa.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Telasco and Kusco, sons of the King of the Sun-worshipers, were twins;
+          and so both were equally near the throne. They loved each other
+          devotedly; so which would give way for the other? Which of the two was
+          to become Inca? Funeral pyres were built, one for each, and prayers
+          were offered to the sun that one of the piles might be ignited. But
+          the sun did not light either. He ordered that Aztalpa, the sister,
+          should choose one. That one to whom she offered her hand should
+          inherit the throne and the empire. But the princess could not decide,
+          for she loved them both dearly and both equally. It was then decided
+          that both should go out hunting on a certain morning, and that the one
+          who killed the first doe should become king. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb115" href="#pb115">115</a>]</span>Telasco had red arrows, Kusco
+          blue. The morning came. The brothers were lying in a thicket as the
+          deer approached. Both fired, and both missed. Then they swore mutually
+          not to miss intentionally the next time. They kept the oath, and two
+          deer fell; but Telasco had shot one of Kusco&rsquo;s arrows, and Kusco
+          one of Telasco&rsquo;s. Telasco then proposed that Aztalpa should be
+          killed, to avoid any discord in the empire; and in the other world
+          both would enjoy the same place in her affections. All agreed to this;
+          but when the fatal day came, Aztalpa fell on her knees before Telasco
+          and begged that she might receive her death at the hand of Kusco.
+          Telasco cried: &ldquo;Aztalpa, you have chosen!&rdquo; All bowed down
+          before Kusco; and when they looked for Telasco he had disappeared. He
+          was never seen again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Often Femke interrupted with questions, for there was much that was
+          strange and wonderful to her; but she was charmed with the story and
+          shared all of Walter&rsquo;s enthusiasm.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I tell you, though, Walter, if that girl had known what Telasco
+          was up to she wouldn&rsquo;t have done it. But the story is beautiful.
+          I wonder if such things really happen.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That was far from here, Femke, and a long time ago. That&rsquo;s
+          just the way it was in the book. But now I must go home, for I haven&rsquo;t
+          a stiver to pay the gate-keeper if I come in after eight. Oh, Femke&mdash;if
+          I were only through with that poetry business.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It will turn out all right<span class="corr" id="xd0e2854"
+          title="Source: ,">.</span> Just think of Telasco. He had a difficult
+          task, too.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb116" href="#pb116">116</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No! I will think of the girl. Good-evening, Femke&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter received the hearty kiss that his story had earned him, and
+          dreaming of Aztalpa, who was guarding the linen, he passed through the
+          Ash Gate and turned towards home. The moon shone so brightly that he
+          was annoyed not to have been able to remain with Femke. How much
+          better, he thought, could he have told his story by moonlight! But he
+          didn&rsquo;t have the price&mdash;a stiver. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb117" href="#pb117">117</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch15" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XV
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The moon paused on the sky, as if she were weary of her lonely lot.
+          Was she grieved because ungrateful humanity had fallen asleep and was
+          ignoring her?&mdash;or because of the light borrowed from her for
+          thousands of years, and none returned? She poured forth her sorrow in
+          heart-breaking noiseless elegies till the night-wind was moved to
+          pity. Whish! he went through the trees; and the leaves danced. Crash!
+          he went over the roof; and the tiles flew away, and chimneys bowed
+          meekly; and over the walls and ditches the sawmills danced with the
+          logs they were to saw. There a girl sat sleeping. Could it be Femke?
+          The linen danced about her to the music of the wind, the shirts making
+          graceful bows and extending their sleeves. Nightcaps, dickeys and
+          drawers danced the minuet; stockings, skirts, collars, handkerchiefs
+          waltzed thicker and thicker around the sleeping girl. Her curls began
+          to flutter&mdash;a smile, a sigh, and she sprang to her feet. A
+          whirlwind caught her up and&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;O, heavens, Femke, Femke!&rdquo; and Walter grasped at the
+          apparition that was being borne away towards the moon in a cloud of
+          stockings, socks, drawers, shirts and collars.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mother! Walter&rsquo;s pinching me,&rdquo; cried Laurens, <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb118" href="#pb118">118</a>]</span>the
+          printer&rsquo;s apprentice; and Juffrouw Pieterse groaned, that those
+          boys couldn&rsquo;t even keep quiet at night.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The &ldquo;House of Pieterse&rdquo; gathered at Walter&rsquo;s bed.
+          There was the noble mother of the family enveloped in a venerable
+          jacket that fell in broad folds over a black woolen skirt. There was
+          Trudie, with her stupid blue eyes; and Myntje and Pietje&mdash;but
+          what am I talking about? In the new home Trudie had become Gertrude,
+          like a morganatic princess in Hessia; and Myntje was now Mina, but
+          preferred to be called Mine, as that sounded more Frenchy. But her
+          stupid face remained unchanged. Pietje was now Pietro. Stoffel had
+          said that was a very swell name.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel, too, had now appeared on the scene, to the great astonishment
+          of his mother, who expected so much of him. This fine sense of
+          propriety had been developed in the new home.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter with you, boy?&rdquo; cried everybody
+          at once.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, mother, Femke&mdash;Femke!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The boy is foolish.&rdquo; That was the unanimous verdict of
+          the family.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And they were not altogether wrong. Walter was delirious.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;They are carrying her away&mdash;around and around&mdash;Daughter
+          of the Sun, decide&mdash;here is Telasco&mdash;thou shalt die, Aztalpa&mdash;Femke,
+          stay, stay, I will watch the clothes&mdash;I will shoot the doe&mdash;a
+          widower of God&mdash;together through the ivory gate&mdash;there she
+          is again&mdash;stay, Omicron!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ought we to call in a preacher?&rdquo; asked Juffrouw <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb119" href="#pb119">119</a>]</span>Pieterse
+          hesitatingly. She didn&rsquo;t know whether praying was needed or a
+          whipping&mdash;or both.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And now, perhaps for the first time in his life, Stoffel expressed a
+          sensible thought: &ldquo;Mother, we ought to have a doctor. Walter is
+          sick.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had nervous fever. It was fortunate for him that a doctor was
+          called in, and still more fortunate that it was a man who understood
+          Walter&rsquo;s mental troubles. He exerted a most wholesome influence
+          on the boy; though this came later, as at first he could only treat
+          the disease.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On Juffrouw Pieterse, too, he had a good influence. To her great
+          astonishment, he explained to her that children ought not to be packed
+          together in a bed as if they were superfluous pieces of furniture
+          being thrown aside; that air, light, play, enjoyment, exercise are all
+          necessary for the development of body and soul; that whipping does no
+          good, and that she had better dispense with her &ldquo;divine worship.&rdquo;
+          He told her of other things she had never heard of; and she listened
+          willingly, for the doctor&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, dear Juffrouw Laps, you must manage to be here when he
+          comes. He writes the prescriptions with a gold pen; and his coachman
+          wears a brown bear-skin cape.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That gold pen and the bear-skin cape! Ah, if everyone who preaches
+          truth could only dress up his coachman so swell! But alas, alas&mdash;I
+          know a great many people who love the truth, and they have no coachman
+          at all&mdash;not to mention the bear-skin.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And gold pens often get into the wrong hands.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I just wanted Juffrouw Zipperman to come sometime <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb120" href="#pb120">120</a>]</span>when the
+          doctor&rsquo;s here. Run and tell her, Gertrude, that I said Walter
+          was sick, and say that we have lunch about twelve. He came about that
+          time yesterday. And Leentje, you go to the grocer&rsquo;s&mdash;we
+          need salt&mdash;have something to say about it&mdash;it&rsquo;s not
+          just to be gossiping, you know&mdash;I despise gossip&mdash;but I
+          would like to know if the people have noticed it. And you, Pietro,
+          remember that you are to give me a clean cap when he comes&mdash;for
+          the doctor is such an elegant gentleman, and such a doctor! And all
+          that he said&mdash;I drank it all in. Mina, you mustn&rsquo;t stare at
+          him again like that; it&rsquo;s not proper. But I&rsquo;m curious to
+          know if the people at the grocer&rsquo;s have seen him!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I shouldn&rsquo;t like to be severe on her; but it seems to me that
+          Juffrouw Pieterse was gradually beginning to take pleasure in Walter&rsquo;s
+          illness.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There is something swell in having such a carriage standing before one&rsquo;s
+          door.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps had come: &ldquo;But dear Juffrouw Pieterse, what am I
+          to do about my uncle? You are invited; and I have told him that there
+          will be a poem.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Very bad, Juffrouw Laps. You can see though that that poor worm
+          can&rsquo;t write the poem. What about Stoffel? Why not ask him to
+          write it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all right with me. Just so it&rsquo;s a poem;
+          otherwise I&rsquo;m disgraced.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel was requested to take Walter&rsquo;s place, but he raised
+          objections at once.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know what that would mean, mother. I would lose
+          the respect of the boys. For anyone working with youth, respect is the
+          main thing; and such a poem&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb121" href="#pb121">121</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But the boys at school need not know it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But the man would tell somebody and then&mdash;you don&rsquo;t
+          understand it. At the Diaconate school there was a fellow who wrote
+          verses; and what has become of him? He went to India, mother, and he
+          still owes me for half a bottle of ink. That&rsquo;s the way it goes,
+          mother. For me to write such a poem? No, no, mother&mdash;for a boy
+          like Walter it&rsquo;s all right; but when one is already a teacher!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And Master Pennewip?&rdquo; cried Juffrouw Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The very man!&rdquo; cried Stoffel, as if this supported his
+          former argument. &ldquo;A happy thought! Master Pennewip will do it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve read a poem by him, Stoffel.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes. And you&rsquo;ve read a poem by him. That&rsquo;s
+          because&mdash;but how shall I explain that to you, Juffrouw Laps? You
+          know that in teaching there are all kinds of things. Take Geography,
+          for example. I will just mention one fact: Madrid is on the
+          Manganares. Understand, mother?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes, Stoffel. That&rsquo;s just as if you were to say&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Amsterdam on the Y. Exactly so. And then there are many, many
+          more things, Juffrouw Laps. You have no idea how much there is of it.
+          A grocer mixes sugar with something else. He must calculate exactly
+          what he must get for a pound in order not to lose money. Think of it!
+          And then you have partnership, and breakage, and the verbs&mdash;but I
+          must go before those rascals break everything.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel returned to school earlier than usual, without having
+          diminished Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s difficulties very <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb122" href="#pb122">122</a>]</span>much. That
+          poor woman could not comprehend how geography and Madrid and the
+          grocer and partnerships made it impossible for Stoffel to write
+          verses. Juffrouw Pieterse smoothed the matter over as well as she
+          could and sent Juffrouw Laps to Master Pennewip.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That gentleman was alarmed when he saw the angry &ldquo;sucking
+          animal,&rdquo; but he quieted down as soon as he heard the object of
+          her visit.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;To what class does your uncle belong, Juffrouw?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, to the class&mdash;you mean the mussel-shells and eggs?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, Juffrouw, I mean on which rung of the ladder is he&mdash;how
+          high up. I repeat it, on what rung&mdash;it&rsquo;s a figure, Juffrouw&mdash;on
+          what rung of the social ladder?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;In the grain business? Is that what you mean?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That is not sufficient, Juffrouw Laps. One may be in the grain
+          business as a pastry cook, a baker, a retailer, a wholesaler, or as a
+          broker; and all these vocations have their peculiar sub-divisions.
+          Take Joseph in Egypt, for example. This man of God, whom some place in
+          the class of patriarchs, while others claim&mdash;but let that be as
+          it may. It is certain that Joseph bought corn and was on the topmost
+          rung of the ladder, for we read in Genesis, chapter 41&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, indeed, he rode in Pharaoh&rsquo;s carriage, and he wore a
+          white silk coat. My uncle is an agent, and my father was the same.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So-o-oo? Agent! That&rsquo;s something Moses doesn&rsquo;t
+          mention, and I don&rsquo;t know in what class&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; He
+          spoke slowly, puzzling over his words. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb123" href="#pb123">123</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Besides, my uncle is a widower.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, there we have the difference! We read that Joseph wooed
+          Asnath, the daughter of Potiphar; but nowhere do we read that his
+          spouse was already dead when he went into the corn business.
+          Therefore, Juffrouw Laps, if it is your earnest desire to have a pious
+          poem written on your uncle, I advise you to go to my pupil, Klaasje
+          van der Gracht.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He explained to her where that prodigy might be found.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again I must beg pardon if my criticism of Pennewip is too severe; but
+          he gave me reasons enough to harbor ugly suspicions against him. I am
+          convinced that he would have written that poem for Juffrouw Laps if
+          her uncle had received a white silk coat from the king, or had ever
+          driven through The Hague in a royal carriage. But to sing an agent in
+          verse! He would leave that to the genius of &ldquo;the flying
+          tea-kettle&rdquo; in the Peperstraat. That was not nice of Pennewip.
+          Was that uncle to blame because his brothers never threw him into a
+          well? or sold him into Egypt? Or because he couldn&rsquo;t interpret
+          dreams? Or because cleverness is not rewarded to-day with rings, white
+          coats, carriages and high official position?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps footed it over to the Peperstraat, where she made the
+          acquaintance of the elder van der Gracht. The old gentleman felt
+          flattered.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was most gracious, and assured the Juffrouw that the poem should be
+          written that very evening. Klaasje could bring it over the next
+          morning and repeat it to Juffrouw Laps, and if it were found worthy as
+          an expression of her feelings toward her uncle, then <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb124" href="#pb124">124</a>]</span>Klaasje
+          was to be invited to be present on that evening. The father assured
+          her that Klaasje would wear a white stand-up collar.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just like Joseph,&rdquo; said the Juffrouw. &ldquo;Everything
+          is in the Bible.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When she got home she read the forty-first chapter of Genesis, trying
+          to find the relation of Klaasje&rsquo;s apotheosis to Joseph&rsquo;s
+          exaltation. That night she dreamed she had a mantle in her hand. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb125" href="#pb125">125</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch16" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XVI
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          It was the afternoon of the day on which Juffrouw Laps sought out
+          Klaasje van der Gracht, and Walter was lying in bed, still weak but no
+          longer delirious. The doctor had ordered rest and quiet. The child
+          counted the flowers in the curtain, and, in his imagination tried to
+          arrange them in some other order. He allowed them to jump over one
+          another, or flow into one another. He saw in them faces, forms,
+          armies, clouds&mdash;and all were alive and moving. It was tiresome,
+          but he couldn&rsquo;t do anything else. If he turned his face toward
+          the wall it was still worse. The hieroglyphic scratches on the wall
+          told him all sorts of things that he didn&rsquo;t need to know and
+          overwhelmed him with unnecessary impressions. He closed his eyes; but
+          still he found no rest. It seemed to him as if he were being swept
+          away to take part in that entertainment that the night-wind gave the
+          moon. Everything was turning round and round, taking him along. He
+          seized his head in both hands, as if he would stop his imagination by
+          main strength; but it was useless. The curtains, the cords, the wall,
+          the flowers, the dance, the whirlwind that tore Femke away&mdash;his
+          efforts to hold her&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The boy burst into tears. He knew that it was all imagination; he knew
+          that he was sick; he knew that <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb126"
+          href="#pb126">126</a>]</span>chimneys don&rsquo;t dance, and that
+          girls are not blown to the moon; and yet&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Weeping he called Femke&rsquo;s name softly, not loud enough to be
+          heard by the others, but loud enough to relieve his own depression.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo; he cried suddenly. &ldquo;Does she
+          answer? Is that imagination, too?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Actually, Walter heard his name called, and it was Femke&rsquo;s
+          voice!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I must know whether I&rsquo;m dreaming, or not,&rdquo; he said,
+          and straightened himself up in bed. &ldquo;That is a red flower, that
+          is a black one, I am Walter, Laurens is a printer&rsquo;s apprentice&mdash;everything
+          is all right; and I&rsquo;m not dreaming.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He leaned out of bed and listened again, his mouth and eyes as wide
+          open as he could get them, as if the senses of taste and sight were
+          going to reinforce that of hearing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <span class="corr" id="xd0e2999" title="Not in source"> &ldquo;</span>O,
+          God! Femke&rsquo;s voice! Yes, yes, it is Femke!&rdquo; He jumped out
+          of bed, ran out the door, and half ran, half fell down the steps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To return to Femke for a little while. She had expected Walter at the
+          bridge the next day after the story of the sun-worshipers. At first
+          she thought that Walter was waiting till he could borrow from Stoffel
+          the book with the picture showing Aztalpa embracing the two brothers.
+          She wanted to see Walter with the picture; now she would have been
+          satisfied with him without the picture. It couldn&rsquo;t be the boy&rsquo;s
+          person, she thought&mdash;such a child!&mdash;but he did recite so
+          well. Perhaps in the heart of the girl Walter and his recitals had
+          already coalesced. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb127" href="#pb127">127</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Put the clothes in the sun,&rdquo; cried her mother; and Femke
+          translated that: Sun&mdash;Peru&mdash;Aztalpa&mdash;Kusco&mdash;Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Run those fighters away; they&rsquo;ll throw dirt on the
+          clothes.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke dreamed: Courageously fighting against the enemies of the
+          country&mdash;the noblest tribe of the Incas&mdash;Telasco&mdash;Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Everything seemed to be calling for Walter; but he did not come.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The first day she was sad; the second, impatient; the third, restless.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mother, I&rsquo;m going to see what&rsquo;s become of the
+          little boy who was going to write a poem.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do, my child!&rdquo; said the mother. &ldquo;Do you think you
+          will find him?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke nodded; but her nod was not convincing. She did not know where
+          Walter lived and was afraid to say so. It took courage to start out to
+          trace the child when she didn&rsquo;t know where he lived; and this
+          courage she wished to conceal. And why? Just timidity incident to the
+          tender feelings. Sometimes we conceal the good and boast of the bad.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl dressed herself as prettily as she could and put all her
+          money in her pocket. It was only a few stivers. She hurried through
+          Ash Gate and inquired where the shop was that lent books. Thus she
+          came directly to the Hartenstraat. She simply retraced the steps of
+          our hero, when he made that first sally with Glorioso.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Less timid than Walter&mdash;Femke was older, and had had more
+          experience with men&mdash;she asked the gruff <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb128" href="#pb128">128</a>]</span>fellow in a business-like way
+          for &ldquo;the book about the countess with the long train or her
+          dress.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What? What&rsquo;s the title?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; Femke said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s about
+          a robber&mdash;and the Pope&rsquo;s mentioned in it, too. I am hunting
+          for the boy who read the book. I wanted to ask where he lives&mdash;I
+          will pay you for your trouble.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you think I&rsquo;m a fool? Am I here to hunt for boys?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, M&rsquo;neer, I will pay you,&rdquo; the girl said, and
+          laid the money on the counter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, get on! What do I know about your boy?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke got angry now.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t done anything, and you can&rsquo;t run me off
+          like that. No, you can&rsquo;t. If you don&rsquo;t want to tell me,
+          you needn&rsquo;t to. You are an unaccommodating fellow!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She was going to leave, when it occurred to her to ask, &ldquo;And won&rsquo;t
+          you lend me a book, either?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, you can get a book. What do you want?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That book about the robber and Amalia,&rdquo; said Femke. She
+          felt now that she was a &ldquo;customer,&rdquo; and oh, how proud she
+          had become all at once!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know anything about such a book. Do you mean
+          Rinaldo Rinaldini?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No. Is there more than one robber book? Just call over the
+          names of them for me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This was said with an air of importance that was not without its
+          effect on the shopman. He pulled down the catalogue, and soon he came
+          to &ldquo;Glorioso.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s it, that&rsquo;s it!&rdquo; cried Femke,
+          delighted. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb129" href="#pb129">129</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But you must deposit a forfeit,&rdquo; the man said, as he
+          mounted the ladder to get that precious book.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, I don&rsquo;t want the book at all. I only want to know
+          where the boy lives who read it. I will pay you gladly,&rdquo; and she
+          pointed to her money.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That isn&rsquo;t necessary,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+          mind accommodating you when you ask me politely.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He looked in the register and found the name Femke had mentioned, with
+          the address. He showed it to her, and was even going to explain to her
+          the best way to get there; but Femke was already out the door. The
+          fellow had difficulty in overtaking her to return the money she had
+          forgotten on the counter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When she reached the address given, Femke learned that the Pieterses
+          had moved to a &ldquo;sweller <span class="corr" id="xd0e3066"
+          title="Source: neighbourhood">neighborhood</span>.&rdquo; It was quite
+          a distance away; but Femke was not deterred by that.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Once at the Pieterses&rsquo;, she was received by the young ladies
+          with a rough, &ldquo;What do you want?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, Juffrouw, I wanted to ask about Walter.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am Femke, Juffrouw, and my mother is a wash-woman. I would
+          like to know if Walter is all right.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What have you got to do with Walter?&rdquo; asked Juffrouw
+          Pieterse, who had heard the commotion and <span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e3079" title="Source: come">came</span> down.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, Juffrouw, don&rsquo;t be angry&mdash;I wanted to know; and
+          my mother knows that I&rsquo;ve come to ask. Walter told me about
+          Telasco, and the girl that was to die&mdash;oh, Juffrouw, tell me if
+          he&rsquo;s sick! I cannot sleep till I know.&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb130" href="#pb130">130</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s none of your business. Go, I tell you! I don&rsquo;t
+          want strange people standing around the door.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;For mercy&rsquo;s sake, Juffrouw!&rdquo; cried the girl,
+          wringing her hands.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The girl&rsquo;s crazy. Put her out, Trudie, and slam the door!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Trudie began to execute the order. Myntje and Pietje got ready to help
+          her; but the child clung to the balustrade and held her ground.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Throw her out! The impudent thing!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, Juffrouw, I&rsquo;m not impudent. I will go. Just tell me
+          whether Walter is sick. Tell me, and I will go right now. Just tell me
+          if he&rsquo;s sick&mdash;if, if he&rsquo;s going&mdash;to die.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The poor child began to weep. Anybody else but those Pieterse women
+          would have been touched at the sight. They were too far up the ladder.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Plainer people, or nobler people would have understood Femke. Feeling,
+          sympathy, is like the money in a gambling-place. It doesn&rsquo;t come
+          to everybody. There wenches and countesses sit side by side; merely
+          respectable people, who sell shoes made in Paris, are not there.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t go!&rdquo; cried Femke. &ldquo;Oh, God! I won&rsquo;t
+          go! I will know whether that child is sick!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A door was heard opening above; and Walter came in sight. He tumbled
+          down the steps and fell unconscious at Femke&rsquo;s feet.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That boy!&rdquo; groaned the old lady, while the girls stood as
+          if transfixed. Femke picked Walter up and carried him upstairs. His
+          bed was pointed out to <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb131"
+          href="#pb131">131</a>]</span>her, and she placed him in it. No one had
+          the courage to run her away when she took a chair by the bedside. If
+          at this moment the rights of the Pieterses and Femke had been voted
+          upon, all the votes would have gone to Femke.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She wept, and stammered &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be angry, Juffrouw; but I
+          couldn&rsquo;t sleep for thinking of him.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">
+          [<a id="pb132" href="#pb132">132</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch17" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XVII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The evening of the birthday party came. All of the Pieterses went,
+          leaving Walter to be taken care of by Leentje.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps was doing the honors.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A strange state of affairs,&rdquo; said the birthday uncle.
+          &ldquo;And what did she want?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, goodness, M&rsquo;neer, I don&rsquo;t know myself. I&rsquo;ve
+          told Gertrude a hundred times that it&rsquo;s too much for me. Just
+          imagine to yourself&mdash;such a thing issuing commands in my house! I
+          told Mina to pitch her out. And Pietro said&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You ought to have seen me get hold of her,&rdquo; 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.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just wait till she comes again,&rdquo; cried Gertrude, &ldquo;and
+          I will attend to her!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And what will I do for her?&rdquo; said Mina significantly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          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.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A common girl, M&rsquo;neer!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Worse than common!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How did you get rid of her?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, it wasn&rsquo;t easy. I said&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb133" href="#pb133">133</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother, I said&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, it was I!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But it was I!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Each one of them had said something. Everyone wanted to play the
+          leading r&ocirc;le in the interesting drama.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I would like to know where the young Mr. van der Gracht is,&rdquo;
+          said Juffrouw Laps. &ldquo;Yes, uncle, it&rsquo;s a surprise&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse did not like to be interrupted when she had
+          something to tell.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And so we said&mdash;what did we say, Gertrude?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mother, I said it was a disgrace.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, I said so, too. Then that thing asked for cold water, and
+          when we didn&rsquo;t get it quick enough for her, she ran and fetched
+          it herself&mdash;just as if she were at home! She wet a cloth and put
+          it on Walter&rsquo;s head. I was amazed at her insolence. When the
+          child came to she gave him a kiss! Think of it&mdash;and all of us
+          standing there!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; cried the three daughters, &ldquo;think of it&mdash;and
+          us standing there!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then she sat down in front of the bed again and talked to him.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where can the young Mr. van der Gracht be!&rdquo; sighed
+          Juffrouw Laps. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s only because we have a little
+          surprise, uncle.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And finally she went away like a princess!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Exactly like a princess,&rdquo; testified the girls; and they
+          did not know that they were telling the truth.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And she told Walter she would come again. But I just want to
+          see her do it!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb134"
+          href="#pb134">134</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The door-bell rang. Juffrouw Laps arose; and the catechist van der
+          Gracht with his son walked into the room. Juffrouw Pieterse didn&rsquo;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!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mynheer and Juffrouwen, may God bless you all this evening!
+          This is my son Klaas, of whom you have heard, I suppose. He&rsquo;s
+          too close kin to me for me to praise him; but you understand&mdash;when
+          it&rsquo;s the father&mdash;well, all blessings come from above.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, uncle, it will be a surprise.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;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&mdash;and I thank God&mdash;for Mynheer,
+          everything comes from above, you know.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Take a seat. I thank you,&rdquo; said the host, who understood
+          that he had been congratulated. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s cold out, isn&rsquo;t
+          it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, a little cool; hardly cold. It&rsquo;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.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          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?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And now, uncle, what do you say? Shall we begin with the
+          surprise?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Go ahead, niece; what have you got?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb135" href="#pb135">135</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s only a trifle, Mynheer,&rdquo; put in the
+          catechist. &ldquo;My son is a poet. I don&rsquo;t praise him, because
+          he&rsquo;s too close kin to me; but he&rsquo;s a clever fellow&mdash;I
+          can say that without bragging&mdash;for everything comes from above.
+          No, I won&rsquo;t praise him&mdash;praise is for the Master alone. But
+          he&rsquo;s a clever fellow.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The poet Klaas looked conscious, and sat toying with the bottom button
+          on his vest. He looked poetical all over.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And so, Mynheer, without bragging&mdash;get it out, my son. As
+          a father, Mynheer, I may say that he&rsquo;s a clever fellow; for in
+          the Bible&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Klaasje drew a piece of paper from his pocket.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;In the Bible there is really nothing said about widowers&mdash;the
+          Master has his own good reasons for it&mdash;but what does the boy do?
+          He takes the hint and writes a whole poem on widows.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Klaasje laid the paper on the table.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, I dare say, he has brought into it all the widows
+          mentioned in the Bible.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You see it&rsquo;s a surprise. I told you so,&rdquo; said
+          Juffrouw Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Read it, Klaasje! There are seventy, Mynheer, seventy widows.
+          Read, my boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Klaas pulled at his clothes, arranged his cuffs and began:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;The widows that in the Bible appear,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            I&rsquo;ve brought together in this poem here,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            For the birthday that we celebrate
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Of him who sadly lost his mate,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Exalting always the Master of Love,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            For all that we have comes from above.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb136" href="#pb136">136</a>]</span>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s the prologue,&rdquo; explained the father.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, that&rsquo;s the prologue. Now I will read:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Genesis, 38, verse 11, it is said:
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            At her father-in-law&rsquo;s must the widow have her bed.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Exodus, 20, 22, it is penned:
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Widows and orphans thou shalt not offend.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Two verses further he threatens, wrathful and grim
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            To make widows of all the women that anger him.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Leviticus, 21, verse 14, thou read&rsquo;st
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            That a widow won&rsquo;t do for the wife of a priest.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            A chapter further, one verse less, we have read,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            That a childless widow must eat her father&rsquo;s bread.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            From Numbers, 30, verse 10, we clearly infer,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            That a widow&rsquo;s vow is sufficient for her.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          In this style he continued glibly, without any interruption; but when
+          he came to:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Second Samuel, 20, 3, very clearly outlines,
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            That as widows must live David&rsquo;s concubines&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse became restless and had to have an explanation.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Juffrouw, concubines,&rdquo; said van der Gracht senior.
+          &ldquo;You see the boy has brought in everything relating to widows.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The verses are not the same length,&rdquo; Stoffel complained;
+          and there is no alternation of masculine and feminine lines.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You may be right, Stoffel, for you are a school-teacher; but
+          that&rsquo;s immaterial to me. These&mdash;these con&mdash;what shall
+          I say&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Juffrouw Pieterse, you ought not to mock at it,&rdquo; cried
+          Juffrouw Laps. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb137" href="#pb137">137</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s right,&rdquo; said the catechist, &ldquo;all
+          blessings come from above. Go ahead, Klaas!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, I will not hear such things&mdash;on account of my
+          daughters!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girls were examining their finger nails, and looked pre&euml;minently
+          respectable.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Go ahead, Klaas!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If I had known that this was going to happen, I would have left
+          my daughters at home.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Juffrouw, it&rsquo;s in the Bible. You&rsquo;re not
+          opposed to the Bible, are you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, but I refuse to hear anything that isn&rsquo;t respectable.
+          My husband&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Your husband sold shoes. I know it, Juffrouw, but you&rsquo;re
+          not going to turn against&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going to do anything against the Bible, but I
+          will not endure such coarseness. Come, Gertrude, come, children!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          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&mdash;that
+          is what lifts us up. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb138" href="#pb138">138</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch18" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XVIII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s illness now took a favorable turn. As soon as he was
+          strong enough to leave his bed, the whole family noticed that he had
+          grown. All remarked about it and called each other&rsquo;s attention
+          to it. No one was better convinced of the fact than Juffrouw Pieterse;
+          for &ldquo;that boy&rdquo; had &ldquo;outgrown all of his clothes,&rdquo;
+          and it would not be easy &ldquo;to fit him out respectably again.&rdquo;
+          So much interesting notoriety and respectability had been reaped from
+          Walter&rsquo;s illness that it was only natural that his convalescence
+          should be turned to the best account.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The child would sit and fill in the colors in pictures. The doctor had
+          presented him the pictures and a box of colors. The latter, so Stoffel
+          said, were the genuine English article.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, such pictures!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was interested especially by pictures from the opera and the
+          tragedy. There were pictures from Macbeth, Othello, Lear, Hamlet, from
+          &ldquo;The Magic Flute,&rdquo; &ldquo;The Barber of Seville,&rdquo;
+          &ldquo;Der Freisch&uuml;tz,&rdquo; and from still a few more&mdash;each
+          one always more romantic than the last. In selecting suitable colors
+          for his heroes and heroines, Walter had the advice of the entire
+          family, including Leentje. Usually there was disagreement, but that
+          only made the matter more important. In only two details were they
+          agreed: faces <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb139" href="#pb139">139</a>]</span>and
+          hands were to have flesh-color, and lips were to be painted red. It
+          had always been that way; otherwise, why was it called flesh-color? On
+          account of this arrangement Hamlet came off rather badly, receiving a
+          much more animated countenance than was suited to his melancholy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wish I knew what the dolls mean,&rdquo; said Walter. He was
+          talking about his pictures.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s only necessary to ask Stoffel,&rdquo; his mother
+          replied. &ldquo;Wait till he comes from school.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter asked him. Stoffel&mdash;there are more such people in the
+          world&mdash;would never admit that he did not know a thing; and he
+          always knew how to appear knowing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What the dolls mean? Well, you see&mdash;those are, so to say,
+          the pictures of various persons. There, for instance, the one with a
+          crown on his head&mdash;that is a king.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I told you Stoffel could explain them,&rdquo; corroborated his
+          mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, but I should have liked to know what king, and what he
+          did.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well! There it is at the bottom. You can read it, can&rsquo;t
+          you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Macbeth?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly. It&rsquo;s Macbeth, a famous king of ancient times.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And that one there with a sword in his hand?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Also a king, or a general, or a hero, or something of the kind&mdash;somebody
+          that wants to fight. Perhaps David, or Saul, or Alexander the Great.
+          That&rsquo;s not to be taken so exactly.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb140" href="#pb140">140</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And the lady with the flowers? She seems to be tearing them up.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That one? Show her to me: Ophelia. Yes, that&rsquo;s Ophelia.
+          Don&rsquo;t you know?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes. Why does she throw the leaves on the ground?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why? why? The questions you do ask!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Here the mother came to the rescue of her eldest son.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Walter, you mustn&rsquo;t ask more questions than anybody
+          can answer.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter did not ask any more questions, but he determined to get to the
+          bottom of the matter at the first opportunity. His imagination roamed
+          over immeasurable domains&mdash;such an insatiate conqueror was the
+          little emperor Walter in his night-jacket!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He associated the heroes of his pictures with the doctor, who had been
+          so friendly to him, and with his immortal Glorioso. The Peruvian
+          story, too, furnished a few subjects for his empire. He married
+          Telasco to Juliet; and the priests of the sun got their rights again.
+          Master Pennewip received a new wig, but of gold-colored threads, on
+          the model of the straw crown of a certain King Lear. Persons that he
+          could see from the window were numbered among his subjects. He had to
+          do something; and this foreign material was preferable to that in his
+          immediate surroundings. Even Lady Macbeth, who was washing her hands
+          and not looking particularly pleasing, seemed to him to be of a higher
+          order than his mother or Juffrouw Laps. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb141" href="#pb141">141</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In fact, for him those pictures were the greatest things in the world.
+          He was carried away with the crowns, diadems, plumes, iron gratings
+          over the faces, with the swords and the daggers with cross-hilts to
+          swear on&mdash;with the trains and puff-sleeves and girdles with
+          pendents of gold&mdash;and the pages. All this had nothing in common
+          with his everyday surroundings. How is it possible, he thought, that
+          anyone who has such beautiful pictures should sell them? The doctor
+          must have inherited them!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Even if he had known that Lady Macbeth was the personification of
+          crime, it would still have seemed to him a profanation to bring her
+          into contact with the plebeian commonness around him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All at once something in Ophelia&rsquo;s form reminded him of Femke.
+          She too could stand that way, plucking the petals from the flowers and
+          strewing them on the ground.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He had dim recollections of what had happened, and occasionally he
+          would ask indifferently about &ldquo;that girl.&rdquo; He was afraid
+          to speak her name before Gertrude, Mina, and Pietro. He was always
+          answered in tones that showed him that there was no room for his
+          romance there; but he promised himself to visit her as soon as he got
+          up.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;When you&rsquo;re better you must go to see the doctor and
+          thank him for curing you&mdash;but thank God first; and then you can
+          show him what you&rsquo;ve painted.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course, mother! I will give her the Prince of Denmark&mdash;I
+          mean him, the doctor.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But be careful not to soil it; and don&rsquo;t forget that
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb142" href="#pb142">142</a>]</span>the
+          ghost of the old knight must be very pale. Stoffel said so&mdash;because
+          it&rsquo;s a ghost, you see.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother, I&rsquo;ll make it white.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Good. And you&rsquo;ll make the lady there yellow?&rdquo;
+          pointing with a knitting-needle to Ophelia.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; cried Walter quickly, &ldquo;she was blue!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She was? Who was?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I only mean that I have so much yellow already, and I wanted to
+          make her&mdash;this one&mdash;Ophelia&mdash;I wanted to make her blue.
+          That one washing her hands can stay yellow.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So far as I&rsquo;m concerned,&rdquo; the mother said, &ldquo;but
+          don&rsquo;t soil it!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel, in the meantime, had got on the track of those pictures. He
+          was slick and had an inquiring mind. One of his colleagues at school,
+          who was in some way connected with the stage, told him that such
+          costume-pictures were of great value to players. He also told him
+          other things about these pictures and about the play in general.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was fortunate for Walter that Stoffel brought this knowledge home
+          with him. Even to-day there are people who find something immoral in
+          the words &ldquo;Theatre&rdquo; and &ldquo;Player&rdquo;; but at that
+          time it was still worse. The satisfaction, however, of imparting
+          knowledge and appearing wise put Stoffel in an attitude of mind on
+          this occasion that ordinarily would have been irreconcilable with that
+          narrowness which with him took the place of conscience.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You see, mother, there are comedies and comedies. Some are sad,
+          some funny. Some are all nonsense, and there&rsquo;s nothing to be
+          learned from them; but there <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb143"
+          href="#pb143">143</a>]</span>are comedies so sad that the people wail
+          when they see them&mdash;even respectable people!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is it possible!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and then there are others where there&rsquo;s music and
+          singing. They are nice, and moral too. They are called operas; and
+          people who are entirely respectable go there. You see, mother, there&rsquo;s
+          nothing bad about it; and we ought not to be so narrow. The old Greeks
+          had comedies, and our professors still study them.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is it possible!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Walter&rsquo;s pictures are from real comedies; but I can&rsquo;t
+          tell all the details now. I will only say there are good comedies.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You must tell Juffrouw Laps. She always says&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And what does she know about it? She never saw a comedy in her
+          life.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was the truth; but it was just as true of the Pieterse family&mdash;with
+          the exception of Leentje.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          One afternoon Leentje had complained of a terrible headache and had
+          left off sewing and gone out. Later it was learned that she had not
+          spent the evening with her mother; and then there was a perfect storm.
+          But Leentje would not say where she had been that night. &ldquo;That
+          night&rdquo; was Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s expression, though she knew
+          that the girl was at home by eleven o&rsquo;clock. Leentje betrayed
+          nothing. She had promised the dressmaker next door not to say
+          anything; for the dressmaker had to be very careful, because her
+          husband was a hypocrite.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In Leentje&rsquo;s work-box was found a mutilated program; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb144" href="#pb144">144</a>]</span>and then
+          one day she began to sing a song she had never sung before&mdash;&ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+          full of honor, I&rsquo;m full of honor; oh, yes, I&rsquo;m a man of
+          honor!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And then it was all out! She had been to the Elandstraat and had seen
+          the famous Ivan Gras in a comedy!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Leentje began to cry and was going to promise never to do so again,
+          when, to her amazement, she was told that there was nothing wrong in
+          it, and that even the greatest professors went to see comedies.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And now she must tell them about it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was &ldquo;The Child of Love,&rdquo; <span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e3409" title="Source: By">by</span> Kotzebue, that had greeted
+          her astonished eyes.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There was music, Juffrouw, and they played beautifully; and
+          then the curtain went up, and there was a great forest, and a woman
+          wept under a tree. There was a Baron who made her son a prisoner,
+          because he was a hunter&mdash;but he spoke so nice, and his mother,
+          too. The Baron said he was master on his place, and that he would
+          punish such thieves. He was in a great rage. And then the mother said&mdash;no,
+          somebody else came and said&mdash;but then the curtain went down. The
+          dressmaker bought waffles that were being passed around, and we drank
+          chocolate. The dressmaker said that every day wasn&rsquo;t a feast
+          day. A man sat behind us and explained everything and took our cups
+          when they were empty. Then the band played, &lsquo;Pretty girls and
+          pretty flowers.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Shame!&rdquo; cried the three young ladies. For it was a common
+          street song.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And then the curtain went up again of its own <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb145" href="#pb145">145</a>]</span>accord;
+          but the gentleman behind us said somebody raised it&mdash;perhaps the
+          &lsquo;Child of Love&rsquo; himself, for he was not in prison when the
+          curtain was down. The dressmaker gave him a peppermint-drop, and he
+          said: &lsquo;Watch the stage, Juffrouw, for you have paid to see it.&rsquo;
+          It cost twelve stivers, without the waffles and chocolate. Then the
+          Baron said&mdash;but I can&rsquo;t tell it all exactly as it was. I
+          will only say that the old woman wept all the time, and she could not
+          be reconciled, because she was so unhappy. You see, Juffrouw, the
+          child of love was her own child; and it was also the Baron&rsquo;s
+          child of love. That was bad&mdash;because it was just a child of love,
+          you see; and that is always bad. He had no papers, no credentials; nor
+          the mother, either. And he was to die because he had hunted. Oh, it
+          was beautiful, Juffrouw! And then the curtain went down again and we
+          ate another waffle. The gentleman behind us said it was well that they
+          gave plays with prison scenes in them. There were so many bad people
+          in the hall, such as pickpockets and the like, and this would be a
+          warning for them. The dressmaker was going to offer him another
+          mint-drop, when she saw that her box was gone. It was silver. The
+          gentleman said of course some pickpocket had taken it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He was the pickpocket!&rdquo; exclaimed several.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Leentje was indignant at the idea.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no! Don&rsquo;t say that; it&rsquo;s a sin. He was a very
+          respectable gentleman, and addressed me as Juffrouw, just as he did
+          the dressmaker. He tried to find the thief. He asked where the
+          Juffrouw lived, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb146" href="#pb146">146</a>]</span>and
+          said that if he found the box he would bring it to her. He wore a
+          fancy vest&mdash;no, no, no. Don&rsquo;t say that of him!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, tell some more about the child of love.&rdquo; All were
+          interested.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, the music was so nice! And a gentleman showed them with a
+          stick how to play.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But tell us about the comedy!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That is not so easy. It was very beautiful. It must be seen; it
+          can&rsquo;t be told. The Baron saw that the hunter in prison was his
+          own son; because a long time before, you see, that is&mdash;formerly,
+          he had been acquainted with&mdash;you understand&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Poor Leentje turned as red as fire, and left her audience in a
+          temporary suspense.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, he had <span class="corr" id="xd0e3440"
+          title="Source: know">known</span> the old woman formerly, and then
+          they were good friends, and were often together&mdash;I will just tell
+          it that way&mdash;and they were to marry, but something came between
+          them; and so&mdash;and&mdash;for that reason the comedy was called the
+          &lsquo;Child of Love.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter listened with as much interest as the others; but he was less
+          affected than the girls, who sat quietly staring into space. Stoffel
+          felt called upon to say something.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s it! He abused her chastity&mdash;that&rsquo;s the
+          way it&rsquo;s spoken of&mdash;and she was left to bear the disgrace.
+          The youth of to-day cannot be warned enough against this. How often
+          have I told the boys at school!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Listen, Walter, and pay attention to what Stoffel says!&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb147" href="#pb147">147</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Encouraged by the approval of his mother, Stoffel continued.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother, virtue must be revered. That is God&rsquo;s will;
+          and what God does is well done. Of all sins sensual pleasure is&mdash;a
+          very great sin, because it is forbidden; and because all sins are
+          punished, either in this world or in the next.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you hear, Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Here, or in the next world, mother! Innocent pleasure, yes; but
+          sensual pleasure&mdash;it is forbidden! It loosens all the ties of
+          human society. You see that such a comedy can be very fine. Only you
+          must understand it properly&mdash;that&rsquo;s the idea.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And what did the Baron do then?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ah, Juffrouw, what shall I say! He talked a whole lot to the
+          old woman, and was very sad because he had&mdash;away back there&mdash;because
+          he had&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Seduced her,&rdquo; added Stoffel, seeing that Leentje couldn&rsquo;t
+          find the word. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what it&rsquo;s called.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, that&rsquo;s what she said, too; and he promised never to
+          do it again. And then he told the child of love always to follow the
+          path of virtue, and that he would marry the old woman. She was
+          satisfied with the arrangement.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I suppose so,&rdquo; cried the three girls in a breath. &ldquo;She
+          will be a rich baroness!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Leentje, &ldquo;she became a great lady. And
+          then the child of love fell on the Baron&rsquo;s neck; and they played
+          &lsquo;Bridal Wreath.&rsquo; The &lsquo;Child of Love&rsquo; became a
+          hussar and sang, &lsquo;I&rsquo;m full of honor, I&rsquo;m full of
+          honor; Oh, I&rsquo;m a man of honor!&rsquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb148" href="#pb148">148</a>]</span>I don&rsquo;t know what became
+          of the old Baron. And then we went home; but the dressmaker took no
+          more pleasure in the play now, because her silver box was gone. I don&rsquo;t
+          know whether the gentleman ever brought it to her, or not.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The play was out.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girls thought: &ldquo;Baroness!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel was thinking: &ldquo;Virtue!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mother&rsquo;s thoughts ran: &ldquo;Twelve stivers for a ticket,
+          and waffles and chocolate extra!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was saying to himself: &ldquo;A hunter! A whole year in the
+          forest, in the great forest, and alone. I&rsquo;d like to do it, too.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He took up his brush and looked at Ophelia: &ldquo;To be alone in the
+          great forest with&mdash;Femke!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But the theatre question was far from being settled. Leentje had to
+          clear up many doubtful points yet. For instance, Pietro wanted to know
+          how old the woman was when the Baron finally married her. Leentje
+          thought she must have been about sixty.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Also Juffrouw Laps had to express her opinion. She declared that she
+          was opposed to everything &ldquo;worldly,&rdquo; and insisted that
+          Walter be sent to church.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Later she got into a big dispute over the theatre with Master
+          Pennewip, whom Stoffel had brought in to reinforce his position. He
+          had brought with him &ldquo;Floris the Fifth,&rdquo; that powerful
+          comedy by the noble <span class="corr" id="xd0e3490"
+          title="Source: Bilderdijk">Bilderdyk</span>. With many declensions and
+          conjugations and remarks on rhyme and metre, he explained, firstly,
+          that &ldquo;Floris the Fifth&rdquo; was a play from which much <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb149" href="#pb149">149</a>]</span>could be
+          learned; and, secondly, that the theatre was something very moral and
+          thoroughly respectable.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To be sure, he failed to convince Juffrouw Laps. Nor was Walter
+          greatly impressed by that masterpiece, despite the fact that there
+          were three deaths in it. He much preferred the beautiful story of
+          Glorioso, or the Peruvian story&mdash;or even Little Red <span
+          class="corr" id="xd0e3497" title="Source: Riding-hood">Riding Hood</span>.
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb150" href="#pb150">150</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch19" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XIX
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Walter had been to church: that was now behind him. Stoffel thought
+          the pastor had preached a beautiful sermon, and said that &ldquo;in a
+          way all he said could be accepted.&rdquo; He hoped that it would
+          &ldquo;bear fruit.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the mother, &ldquo;and he mustn&rsquo;t tear
+          his new breeches again. They cost too much hard work for that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As a matter of fact the &ldquo;hard work&rdquo; done in the Pieterse
+          family might be regarded as a negligible quantity. There was the
+          necessary housework, and the usual complaining&mdash;or boasting, if
+          you will&mdash;but this was to be expected.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That Walter had postponed his visit to go to church was a result of
+          the frightful threats of Juffrouw Laps. She cited Second Chronicles
+          xvi. 12, and in the face of this text the Pieterses were not able
+          successfully to defend their new and more liberal position. Juffrouw
+          Pieterse could only say that the Bible was not to be interpreted that
+          way, as if everything in it applied to a given individual.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Juffrouw Laps stuck to it, that if one has faith and grace one may
+          come through all right; whereupon Juffrouw Pieterse expressed her
+          willingness at all times to take advice.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Those are the essential things; through them we are saved! And&mdash;send
+          him to me the first of the week. <span class="pagenum"> [<a id="pb151"
+          href="#pb151">151</a>]</span>Or he can come Sunday, but after church.
+          Then he can tell me about the sermon, even if the pastors are&mdash;but
+          what does a child know about it!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps didn&rsquo;t think much of pastors. She held that people
+          with grace in their hearts can understand God&rsquo;s word without
+          Greek and Latin.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Sunday after church. I will count upon it.&rdquo; And in
+          order to make her invitation more insistent she mentioned certain
+          sweets that she usually served her guests at that time.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Supposing that Juffrouw Laps was really anxious for Walter to come, we
+          must admit that she showed deep knowledge of boy-nature.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As for Walter, he was afraid to be alone with this pious lady. For him
+          she was the living embodiment of all the plagues that are made use of
+          in the Old Testament to convert rebellious tribes to the true faith.
+          For instance, thunder and lightning, pestilence, abysses, boils,
+          flaming swords, etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If he had had the courage he would have asked her just to deposit the
+          promised dainties somewhere outside of her flat. He would find them
+          then. But he didn&rsquo;t have the courage.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And why didn&rsquo;t you go?&rdquo; asked the mother when
+          Stoffel&rsquo;s enthusiasm over the sermon had begun to die down.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter said he had a pain in his stomach, which children always have
+          when they want to bridge over disagreeable duties. With a better
+          understanding between the parents and children this disease would be
+          less frequent.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe you have any pain in your stomach,&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb152" href="#pb152">152</a>]</span>declared
+          the mother. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s only because you&rsquo;re a bad child
+          and never do what you&rsquo;re told to do.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel agreed with her; and then a council of war was held. Walter
+          was condemned to go to Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s at once; and he went.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Expecting some terrible ordeal, he was greatly embarrassed and
+          confused by the show of friendliness with which he was received.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you did come, my dear boy! But you are so late! Church has
+          been out a long time. See what I have for you, expressly for <i> you</i>!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She thrust him into a chair at the table and shoved all sorts of
+          sweets over to him. Walter&rsquo;s embarrassment increased; and he
+          felt even less at ease when she began to stroke him and call him pet
+          names.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Now, tell me about the sermon,&rdquo; she said, when the child
+          tried to escape the tenderness and affection to which he was not
+          accustomed. &ldquo;What did the pastor say?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The text&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But that&rsquo;s all right&mdash;afterwards, when your mouth is
+          empty. You must eat a few cakes first. Nobody can do everything at
+          once. There is chocolate; and you&rsquo;re to have a little dram, too.
+          I&rsquo;ve always said that you are a nice boy; but they&rsquo;re
+          forever plaguing you so. But you&rsquo;re not eating enough; do just
+          as if you were at home.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For Walter that was not the right expression. At home!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His first surprise over Walter began to be possessed by a feeling of
+          fear. Why, he could not have told to save him. <span class="pagenum">
+          [<a id="pb153" href="#pb153">153</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Suddenly he got up and declared that his mother had told him not to
+          stay long.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There wasn&rsquo;t a word of truth in it. Juffrouw Laps protested, but
+          Walter held his ground. Despite all of that kindness Walter was able
+          to escape from the enemy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Promising &ldquo;to come back soon&rdquo; he ran down the steps and
+          into the street.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          An indescribable feeling of freedom regained thrilled through him. He
+          had escaped. It was incomprehensible even to him. Never had he been
+          received so kindly, so cordially; never had he been treated in a
+          manner approaching this. But why his antipathy? When he left she was
+          going to kiss him, but he managed to dodge her. Why? He didn&rsquo;t
+          know. But it made him shudder to think of it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Should he go home now? What excuse could he give for coming back so
+          soon?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Involuntarily he bent his steps toward Ash Gate. It was not his
+          intention to visit Femke&mdash;not at all, really not! For he didn&rsquo;t
+          have his Ophelia with him&mdash;proof conclusive that when he left
+          home he had not thought of Femke.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And when he came in sight of his mills on the Buitensingel&mdash;oh,
+          they were silent! Was there no wind? Or were they observing Sunday?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Buitensingel was full of people taking a Sunday stroll. Walter
+          followed the small stream, which led him towards Femke&rsquo;s house.
+          Soon he stood before the low enclosure; but he did not dare to go in.
+          Why? He put the blame on the absent Ophelia.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If I only had that picture here I&rsquo;d certainly go in!&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb154" href="#pb154">154</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That is questionable. Even with the picture he would have probably
+          been just as shy. He didn&rsquo;t know what he ought to say&mdash;or,
+          better, whether he could say anything, or not. He reflected. Suppose
+          Femke&rsquo;s mother should ask, &ldquo;Did you want anything?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          We&mdash;yes, the &ldquo;gentle reader&rdquo; and I&mdash;we should
+          have known what to answer. I wonder if our wisdom would have been
+          wiser than the stupidity of the child, who stood irresolute and
+          hesitating before the fence?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He stood staring at the house, his mouth wide open. His knees
+          trembled, his heart fluttered, his tongue was dry.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A small column of smoke curling up from the chimney aroused him. What
+          if a fire should break out! Then he would have to go in. He would
+          rescue her, and carry her away in his arms&mdash;far, far away&mdash;to
+          the end of the world, or at least outside of the town! Just anywhere
+          where the people wear red velvet and green silk, where the gentlemen
+          carry big swords and the ladies wear long trains. They would be so
+          becoming to Femke. And she should ride horseback, and he would follow
+          her&mdash;no, he would ride by her side, with a falcon on his hand!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If a fire should break out!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Walter saw that the house was in no danger. This smoke came from
+          the kitchen. He noticed other houses in the neighborhood where cooking
+          seemed to be going on, and everywhere the chimneys were bearing
+          witness to activities below which were presumably similar to those of
+          Femke.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Finally a crowd of fellows came along who had <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb155" href="#pb155">155</a>]</span>evidently been stopping at one
+          of those establishments where &ldquo;refreshments&rdquo; are served.
+          They had been greatly refreshed, and in their exuberance of freshness,
+          so to say, they crowded Walter away from the fence and took him along
+          with them for a little way.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was easily reconciled to this; for why, he thought, should he stand
+          there and watch the smoke? There wasn&rsquo;t going to be any fire;
+          and then he didn&rsquo;t have Ophelia with him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But to-morrow! To-morrow he would bring that picture with him! And
+          then he wouldn&rsquo;t stand at the fence like a baby.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He felt ashamed when he thought of his friends in their gay colors, or
+          in armor, with plumes and swords. Those kings and knights and pages&mdash;they
+          had been courageous, otherwise they never would have received such
+          high orders and distinctions. Unless there were some change, he felt
+          that he would never be pictured like that.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          However, he expected that such a change would come&mdash;without
+          doubt, surely, certainly, truly! The further he went, the more
+          determined he became to go in the next day and put on a bold front and
+          say: &ldquo;Good-day, Juffrouw, how do you do?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was more difficult for him to decide what he would say to Femke.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He made up various little speeches in the manner of Floris the Fifth.
+          In case Femke shouldn&rsquo;t like them he was going to say, &ldquo;Why,
+          that is from our greatest poet.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And then he would ask her to explain a lot of mysterious <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb156" href="#pb156">156</a>]</span>words in
+          Floris that he hadn&rsquo;t understood&mdash;for instance, &ldquo;fast
+          fellow,&rdquo; &ldquo;coverture,&rdquo; &ldquo;chastity,&rdquo; and
+          others.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s development was determined by his desire to know
+          things. His feeling for Femke, which was hardly real love, was
+          subordinated to his thirst for knowledge. He knew that he couldn&rsquo;t
+          get much from her, especially book-learning; but it was a pleasure
+          merely to discuss things with her, even if she knew nothing about
+          them.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was curious to know all that she might have to tell him, or to ask
+          him; for no doubt she too had been saving up her impressions for her
+          first friend. But, alas! he was not so certain of her friendship!
+          True, when he was sick she had asked about him; but perhaps she was
+          just passing by, and thought how easy it would be to ring the bell and
+          ask, &ldquo;How is Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Still it had taken courage to do it. What would Mungo Park have said
+          if he had seen him hesitating before the gate! Walter knew that wasn&rsquo;t
+          the way to conquer the world.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And if anybody had asked Mungo Park: &ldquo;What do you want in
+          Africa?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Well, he would have answered. Such a traveller in such a book is never
+          embarrassed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then Walter began to address all sorts of remarks to negro kings that
+          he had conquered with lance and sword. All the women kissed his hand
+          as he rode by on his bay, with fiery red caparison. He inquired
+          patronizingly after those good girls who had nursed him in his
+          illness, &ldquo;because the strange white man was <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb157" href="#pb157">157</a>]</span>far from mother and sisters
+          and had no home.&rdquo; He would reward them princely.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In all this conquered land Walter was king and Femke was&mdash;queen!
+          How magnificent the big red velvet cloak would look on her&mdash;and
+          the gold crown!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Conquering continents was easy. He was scarcely thirteen; and yet he
+          was afraid that somebody might get ahead of him while he was being
+          detained by the treacherous Pennewip with declensions and
+          conjugations. And, then there were still more things to learn before
+          one could be king, even of a small country. Pocket-change would have
+          to be increased too, for, with all possible economy, six doits a week
+          were insufficient. The Hallemans&mdash;well, they had more; but
+          fortunately they were not thinking of Africa. For the present he was
+          not afraid of any competition from that quarter; but other children,
+          nearer the &ldquo;grown-up&rdquo; stage, might get the idea in their
+          heads! And then, what would he do to keep his mother from guessing
+          when he made his trips into the &ldquo;interior&rdquo; longer, and
+          stayed out later than was allowed by the regulations of the Pieterse
+          household?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was a difficult matter, but he would manage it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All that might happen to him and Femke in Africa would be read
+          afterwards in pretty little books with colored pictures. He already
+          saw himself sitting on a throne, and Femke by his side. She was not
+          proud; she was willing for everybody to know&mdash;all those kneeling
+          before her&mdash;that she had been a poor wash-girl. She had become
+          queen because Walter had loved her; and now they needn&rsquo;t kneel
+          any more. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb158" href="#pb158">158</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On special occasions&mdash;well, of course, that was different; for
+          instance, when his mother and Stoffel came to visit him. They should
+          see how all the people honored him&mdash;and Femke whom they had
+          treated so badly. But once would be enough; then he would forgive them
+          everything and build them a big house with water-barrels and
+          wash-tubs. For Pennewip he would build a big schoolhouse, with desks
+          and ink-bottles and copy-books and wall maps of Europe and tables of
+          the new weights and measures. Then the old master could give
+          instruction from early in the morning till late at night&mdash;or even
+          all night.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was just puzzling over how he was going to reconcile Master
+          Pennewip and the dusky young African to one another when Leentje
+          opened the door.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Without noticing it he had got home and rung the door-bell.
+          Unsuspectingly he fell into an environment quite different from that
+          in which he had moved for the last half hour. He scarcely understood
+          what his mother meant when she asked him how the visit turned out, and
+          whether Juffrouw Laps was satisfied with his report on the sermon.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Sermon? Laps? He was unprepared for such an examination. He stammered
+          out a sort of miscellaneous and irrelevant jumble of words, but
+          fortunately containing nothing about Africa.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It now developed that in the meantime there had been a sudden change
+          in certain details of religious belief.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You see, mother?&rdquo; said Stoffel. &ldquo;Just as I&rsquo;ve
+          always said, it would take a lawyer to explain anything to suit her.
+          She always knows better&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s so,&rdquo; answered the mother. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s
+          cracked <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb159" href="#pb159">159</a>]</span>or
+          crazy. Now, just tell me, Stoffel, if anyone can expect such a child
+          to remember everything a preacher says. I can&rsquo;t do it myself;
+          and you can&rsquo;t do it, either. Master Pennewip can&rsquo;t do it.
+          I tell you, nobody can do it. And to require that of such a child! She
+          just wants to play the professor; that&rsquo;s the reason she does it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel was of the same opinion. Encouraged by his sympathy the mother
+          became eloquent.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I would like to know what she&rsquo;s thinking about; or if she
+          thinks she&rsquo;s a pastor. With all her biblical quotations! And
+          then to torment a child hardly out of a sick bed&mdash;it&rsquo;s a
+          disgrace. You don&rsquo;t need to go to her. What business have you
+          got with her? I tell you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Here it occurred to her that she herself had compelled Walter to go,
+          and she interrupted this line of thought to scold Walter and tell him
+          to get out of his Sunday breeches. Her dissatisfaction with herself
+          expressed itself further in a funeral oration on Walter&rsquo;s last
+          suit, which had cost so much &ldquo;hard work.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And then to let that child sit there for an hour without
+          anything to eat or drink! She would&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s feeling for justice couldn&rsquo;t let that pass. He
+          assured them that on the contrary&mdash;and then that excessive
+          kindness got in his way again. In his confusion he went into all the
+          details of the chocolate.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well! Why didn&rsquo;t you say so at once? But it&rsquo;s all
+          the same. I was going to add that she ought to have given you
+          something to eat. That&rsquo;s the way such folks are&mdash;always
+          grumbling about others and they won&rsquo;t see themselves. I believe
+          in grace too, and when <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb160"
+          href="#pb160">160</a>]</span>I have my housework done I like to hear
+          the Scripture read&mdash;but to be everlastingly and eternally prating
+          about it? No, that isn&rsquo;t religion. What do you say, Stoffel? One
+          must work part of the time. Walter! aren&rsquo;t you going to pull off
+          those new breeches? I&rsquo;ve told him a dozen times. Trudie, give
+          him his old ones!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter changed his breeches; but he promised himself that in Africa he
+          would wear Sunday breeches every day. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb161" href="#pb161">161</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch20" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XX
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The next day Walter rang the doctor&rsquo;s door-bell. His heart was
+          in a flutter, for the doctor lived in an imposing house. He was
+          admitted and, after he had been announced, was told just to come
+          upstairs.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The maid conducted Walter to the &ldquo;study,&rdquo; where the doctor
+          was busy performing one of his paternal duties: he was teaching his
+          children.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There were three. A boy, somewhat older than Walter, sat alone in one
+          corner writing at a small table. The other two, a boy of Walter&rsquo;s
+          age and a girl that seemed to be a few years younger, stood before the
+          table behind which the doctor was sitting. On the table stood a large
+          globe, evidently the subject of discussion. This became clear to
+          Walter later, for, as far as he knew, he had never seen such a large
+          ball. He didn&rsquo;t know that there was any other way to explain the
+          location of countries except by means of maps. Thus he noticed in the
+          room all sorts of things that he didn&rsquo;t understand till later.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When the maid opened the door of the room he heard the voices of the
+          children, and also that of the father. He even heard laughter; but
+          when he walked in all became as still as death. The two children at
+          the table stood like soldiers. There was something so comical in their
+          attitude that Walter could have laughed at them if he hadn&rsquo;t
+          been so embarrassed. Even the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb162"
+          href="#pb162">162</a>]</span>girl had a touch of official earnestness
+          in her face more striking than he had seen it in older people, even at
+          church. While the doctor was welcoming Walter and offering him a
+          chair, the boy stood with hands clapped down on the seams of his
+          trousers as if he expected someone to say, &ldquo;Right about&mdash;face!&rdquo;
+          or, &ldquo;Forward, column right, march!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The larger boy in the corner had only looked up once, but with that
+          peculiarly hostile expression which distinguishes man from other
+          animals&mdash;to the disadvantage of the former. It is noticeable
+          especially in children&mdash;sometimes in women.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad to see you, my boy. It was nice of you to come.
+          What have you there?&rdquo;&mdash;then he turned to the little
+          soldiers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Remind me afterward to tell you at dinner something about
+          Olivier van Noort. William, you can think of it, can&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter squinted at his Lady Macbeth, and was so embarrassed that he
+          was helpless to present it to the doctor. The room was so magnificent;
+          and the furnishings&mdash;the big cases full of books! His picture
+          seemed so common and ugly that, if he could have done so, he would
+          have swallowed it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At home they had taught him how he must stand and sit and speak; and
+          now he stood there, as awkward as a cow, stammering and stuttering.
+          Making a supreme effort he managed to get it out that he had &ldquo;come
+          to thank the doctor&rdquo; for his recovery&mdash;&ldquo;but God first&rdquo;!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The two soldiers bit their lips; and even the doctor found it
+          difficult to keep a straight face. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb163"
+          href="#pb163">163</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;God first! Well said, my boy. Have you already thanked God?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, M&rsquo;nheer, every evening in bed, and yesterday at
+          church.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Little Sietske unable to control herself any longer had to laugh
+          outright. Her laughter threatened to become contagious. William was
+          busier than usual with his nose; Hermann had come to life and was
+          eyeing Walter slyly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Order!&rdquo; thundered the doctor, giving the table a rap with
+          a ruler that made the globe tremble. Walter was frightened. &ldquo;Order!
+          This is a nice caper during study-hours.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The clock began to strike. Sietske seemed to be counting, for at every
+          stroke she raised a finger.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am going to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Five!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;All my fingers&mdash;just look,
+          five! Five o&rsquo;clock, papa&mdash;Tyrant! Hurrah, hurrah!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Both boys joined in the uproar. It was a quodlibet from &ldquo;Gaudeamus
+          igitur,&rdquo; &ldquo;<span lang="fr">Vive la joie</span>,&rdquo; and
+          &ldquo;God save the king.&rdquo; Forward, all! <span lang="fr">Vive la
+          vacance! A bas les tyrans!</span> Revenge! * * * *
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The children were determined to have their well earned romp; and they
+          had it. Walter rubbed his eyes, and would not believe his ears. It was
+          beyond his comprehension. * * * *
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That will do now,&rdquo; said the doctor. &ldquo;Come, mamma is
+          waiting dinner&mdash;and you, too, my boy!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          William took Sietske on his back and Hermann mounted the father. Thus
+          they descended the stairs, Walter bringing up the rear. Lady Macbeth
+          had disappeared, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb164" href="#pb164">164</a>]</span>being
+          now crumpled up in Walter&rsquo;s breast-pocket.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was nonplussed. Was this the same man who used the gold pen?&mdash;whose
+          coachman wore the furs?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How was it possible? Was it a dream, that he and all the family had
+          looked on this man and simply been overcome by his dignity?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He couldn&rsquo;t understand it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again the atmosphere of the dining-room was quite different from that
+          of the schoolroom, either before or directly after five.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Present the young gentleman to your mamma,&rdquo; said the
+          doctor, turning to William.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;May I do it?&rdquo; asked Sietske.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Doctor Holsma nodded, and the little girl took Walter by the hand and
+          conducted him to a lady who sat at the head of the table preparing the
+          salad.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mamma, this is a young gentleman&mdash;oh, I must know your
+          name. What is your name?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Walter Pieterse.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;This is Mr. Walter Pieterse, who has come to thank papa,
+          because he&mdash;he was sick; and he&mdash;the young gentleman is
+          going to stay for dinner, papa?&rdquo;&mdash;the doctor nodded again&mdash;&ldquo;and
+          he&rsquo;s going to stay for dinner, mamma.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;With mamma&rsquo;s consent,&rdquo; said the father.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, with mamma&rsquo;s consent.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mevrouw Holsma spoke to Walter kindly and offered him a chair. It was
+          necessary, too.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Everything seemed so princely to Walter that he was glad to be seated.
+          Three-fourths of his little figure <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb165"
+          href="#pb165">165</a>]</span>was hidden under the table. That was
+          something gained. He was amazed at almost everything he saw and heard.
+          He folded his hands.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you want to say a grace, little man?&rdquo; asked the
+          doctor.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, M&rsquo;nheer,&rdquo; Walter stammered.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A good custom. Do you always do that at the table?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, always&mdash;at warm meals, M&rsquo;nheer!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Those children had been taught good manners. Nobody smiled.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter bowed his head for a moment; and the doctor took advantage of
+          the opportunity to give the children a look of warning. They
+          remembered; and, if afterwards Walter discovered that he had cut a
+          singular figure in this household, they were not to blame.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You do well to do it,&rdquo; said Holsma. &ldquo;We don&rsquo;t
+          do it; and perhaps we do well not to.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; said the mother. &ldquo;Everyone must act
+          according to his own conviction.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This simple statement moved Walter more than any of them could have
+          imagined. He&mdash;a conviction! That short sentence of Mevrouw Holsma
+          attributed to him a dignity and importance that was strange to him,
+          and gave him a right he had never thought of before. Through the soup
+          he was thinking continually: &ldquo;I may have a conviction!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It never occurred to him that a thing could be interpreted otherwise
+          than it was interpreted for him by his mother or Stoffel, or some
+          other grown-up person. The whole question of praying, or not praying,
+          did not <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb166" href="#pb166">166</a>]</span>appear
+          so important to him as this new fact, that he could have a conviction.
+          His heart swelled.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The doctor, who understood Walter, recalled him from his thoughts.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Everyone must act according to his conviction; and in order to
+          come to a conviction one has to reflect a long time over the matter. I
+          am convinced that our little guest would like to eat some of those
+          peas. Pass them to him, Sietske.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had grasped the import of Holsma&rsquo;s words, and also the
+          meaning of this transition to the peas. Walter felt&mdash;without
+          putting his feelings into words&mdash;that the pedantry of the
+          schoolroom had been put aside at five o&rsquo;clock, and that his host
+          merely wanted to give him a friendly warning against dogmatic bigotry,
+          without tainting the fresh, wholesome atmosphere of the dining-room.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Despite his shy, retiring nature&mdash;or, better, in connection with
+          this characteristic&mdash;Walter was an extremely intelligent boy.
+          This fact had escaped almost everybody he had come in contact with
+          because of his lack of self-confidence, which prevented him from
+          revealing his true self. He usually seemed to comprehend more slowly
+          than others; but this was because he was less easily satisfied with
+          the result of his thinking. His mind was exacting of knowledge. During
+          Walter&rsquo;s sickness Holsma had remarked this peculiarity of the
+          boy, and his interest had been enlisted at once.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s shyness was due in a great measure to the manner in
+          which he had been taught what little he knew. Everything his teachers
+          taught him was looked <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb167"
+          href="#pb167">167</a>]</span>upon by them as something immutable and
+          irrefutable. Twice two is four, Prince so-and-so is a hero, good
+          children go to heaven, God is great, the Reform Church represents the
+          true faith, etc., etc. It was never hinted to him that there was any
+          room for doubt. Indeed, he was led to believe that his desire to know
+          more about things was improper and even sinful.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After all those extraordinary occurrences in the study, Walter was
+          prepared to expect almost anything in the way of the unusual, but that
+          William and Hermann, and even little Sietske, were allowed to help
+          their plates to whatever they wanted&mdash;that was more wonderful to
+          him than the a&euml;rial voyage of Elias. With Genevi&egrave;ve in the
+          famous wilderness&mdash;yes, even in Africa it couldn&rsquo;t be any
+          more free and easy. He was continually surprised and taken off his
+          guard by the unwonted and unexpected. In fact, his thoughts were so
+          far away that when during dessert the little girl passed him a saucer
+          of cream&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Ye gods, it happened and&mdash;I must tell it. Oh, if like the
+          chroniclers of old, I might put the blame on some privy councilor,
+          &ldquo;who unfortunately advised,&rdquo; etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But what privy councilor in the whole world could have advised Walter
+          to let that porcelain spoon tilt over the edge of the saucer and fall
+          into Sietske&rsquo;s lap! He did it, he!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, how sad it was. He had just begun to pull himself up in his chair.
+          Another moment and he would have actually been sitting. Perhaps he
+          might have said something soon. The name of a certain country in
+          Africa, which Sietske could not remember a moment <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb168" href="#pb168">168</a>]</span>before, had occurred to him.
+          It was not that he might seem smarter than Sietske that he was going
+          to speak out. No, it was only that he might seem a little less stupid
+          than himself. But now&mdash;that miserable spoon!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Before he had time to wonder how his awkwardness would be received,
+          Sietske was talking along smoothly about something else&mdash;just as
+          if this little &ldquo;catastrophe&rdquo; was a matter of course.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Papa, you were going to tell us something about Olivier van
+          Noort.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She arose, wiped off her little skirt and fetched Walter another spoon
+          from the buffet.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, papa, Olivier van Noort! You promised it, papa.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All urged him to tell the story. Even Mevrouw Holsma manifested great
+          interest in it. Walter was aware that this conversation was intended
+          to cover up his accident. He was moved; for he was not accustomed to
+          anything like this. As Sietske took her seat again she noticed a tear
+          creeping down across his cheek.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Mamma, I got a silver spoon. That&rsquo;s just as good, isn&rsquo;t
+          it? These porcelain things are so heavy and awkward. They&rsquo;ve
+          fallen out of my hand three times; and Hermann can&rsquo;t manage
+          them, either.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mother nodded to her.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And how it is with Olivier van Noort?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The door-bell rang, and almost immediately afterwards a gentleman
+          entered the room who was greeted by the children as Uncle Sybrand.
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb169" href="#pb169">169</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The host now invited all to the garden and sent Hermann to the study
+          for a book.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You young rascal, don&rsquo;t you go now and maliciously break
+          that globe. It can&rsquo;t help it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then came the story of Admiral Olivier van Noort and the poor
+          Vice-Admiral Jan Claesz van Ilpendam, who was put ashore in the Strait
+          of Magellan for insubordination. It interested all, and called forth a
+          lively discussion, in which the entire family as well as the guests
+          took part. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb170" href="#pb170">170</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch21" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXI
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          To readers of a certain class of fiction it will no doubt seem strange
+          if I say that Walter&rsquo;s visit to the Holsma family influenced
+          greatly his spiritual development. Not immediately; but a seed had
+          been planted which was to grow later. He saw now that after all
+          independent thought was possible, even if he could not yet allow
+          himself that luxury. The mere knowledge that there were other opinions
+          in the world than those of his daily mentors was a long stride
+          forward.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was depressed on account of his lack of knowledge. Those children
+          knew so much more than he did; and this made him sad.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          They had spoken of someone who was startled to find footprints. Who
+          was it? The child had never heard of Defoe&rsquo;s hermit. He asked
+          Stoffel.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Footprints? Footprints? Well, you must tell me what footprints
+          you mean&mdash;whose footprints. You must give names when you ask
+          questions.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s right,&rdquo; said the mother, &ldquo;when you
+          want to know anything you must mention names. And Mevrouw made the
+          salad herself? Well, that&rsquo;s strange. The girl must have been out
+          somewhere.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As to other &ldquo;strange&rdquo; things, which were not likely to
+          meet the approbation of his family, Walter was silent. Not a word
+          about that Saturnalia, or the omission of grace at a &ldquo;warm meal&rdquo;!
+          Nor did he mention the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb171"
+          href="#pb171">171</a>]</span>liberties that were allowed the children,
+          or the freedom with which they joined in the conversation. Perhaps it
+          was a superfluous precaution. That bearskin would have been excused
+          for many shortcomings.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse asked repeatedly if he had been &ldquo;respectable.&rdquo;
+          Walter said he had, but without knowing exactly what she meant. That
+          affair with the spoon&mdash;had it been respectable? He didn&rsquo;t
+          care to have this question decided&mdash;at least by his mother. But
+          it was nice of Sietske; and wouldn&rsquo;t he have done the same?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He learned that the day was approaching when he must return to school.
+          More than ever he felt that this source of knowledge was insufficient
+          for him; but opposition was not to be thought of. He was dissatisfied
+          with himself, with everything.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I shall never amount to anything,&rdquo; he sighed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His Lady Macbeth seemed uglier to him than ever. He tore her up. And
+          Ophelia?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Goodness! He hadn&rsquo;t thought of Femke the whole day. Was it
+          because she was only a wash-girl, while the doctor&rsquo;s children
+          were so aristocratic? Walter censured himself.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He took advantage of the first opportunity to pay his debt in that
+          quarter. For he felt that it was a debt; and this consciousness gave
+          him courage. Picture in hand, he passed the familiar fence this time
+          and knocked boldly on the door. His heart was thumping terribly; but
+          he must do it! In a moment he stood before Femke. The lady of his
+          heart was quietly darning stockings. It is hard on the writer; but
+          this little detail was a matter of indifference to Walter. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb172" href="#pb172">172</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; she cried, extending her hand. &ldquo;Mother, this
+          is the young gentleman we saw that time&mdash;the little boy who was
+          so sick. And how are you now? You look pale.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Take a seat, little boy,&rdquo; said the mother. &ldquo;Yes,
+          you do look pale. Worms, of course.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, mother. The child has had nervous fever.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All right&mdash;fever, then; but it could be from worms. Give
+          him a cup, Femke. It won&rsquo;t hurt you to drink coffee; but if it
+          were worms&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mrs. Claus&rsquo;s worms were more in Walter&rsquo;s way than the
+          stockings.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where does your mother have her washing done?&rdquo; she asked.
+          &ldquo;Not that I want to pump you&mdash;not at all. But if she isn&rsquo;t
+          satisfied with her wash-woman&mdash;it sometimes happens, you
+          understand. Everybody must look out for himself; and I just thought I&rsquo;d
+          mention it. Whenever there are any ink-spots Femke takes them out with
+          oxalic acid; and it never makes any holes&mdash;yes, it did happen
+          once, and we had to pay for a pair of cuffs. You can ask Femke.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The fact was, he wanted to ask Femke something else; and she knew it.
+          The story of Aztalpa had left its marks on her mind. But she was
+          hampered very much like Walter was at home. She couldn&rsquo;t say,
+          &ldquo;Mother, speak a bit more Peruvian!&rdquo; So she simply asked
+          what the roll was that he had in his hand.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was confused, but he managed to stammer that it was a present
+          for her. Femke said she would always take good care of the picture.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the mother, &ldquo;and you must iron out <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb173" href="#pb173">173</a>]</span>those
+          creases. We iron, too, little boy, and we deliver the clothes ready to
+          put on. Nobody can complain. You can tell your mother. And your collar&mdash;it
+          isn&rsquo;t ironed nicely&mdash;and such bluing! Ask Femke. Femke, isn&rsquo;t
+          the blue in stripes?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His collar not ironed nicely? and blued in stripes? And the infallible
+          Pietro had laundered it! Even here, were there differences in method
+          and conception? And in this respect, too, was the Pieterse tradition
+          not the only one that brought happiness?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke was on nettles. She studied Ophelia, wondering who she was, and
+          tried to turn the conversation. At last something occurred to her. It
+          was necessary for her to run some errand or other, and &ldquo;the
+          young gentleman&rdquo; could &ldquo;accompany&rdquo; her a part of the
+          way.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;As far as I&rsquo;m concerned,&rdquo; said the mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The young couple retired, taking one of those ways which in the
+          neighborhood of Amsterdam are simply called &ldquo;the ways.&rdquo;
+          That is all they are. Whoever walks there for pleasure must take a
+          good stock of impressions with him, in order to escape tedium.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Walter and Femke were not lacking in this respect. Walter had so
+          much to tell Femke that he could scarcely hope to get through; and
+          she, too, had thought of him more than she was willing to admit, and
+          more than he had any idea of. She began by saying that she hadn&rsquo;t
+          told her mother of her unfriendly reception by Walter&rsquo;s mother
+          and sisters, because she didn&rsquo;t want her mother&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, Femke&mdash;and you thought I would come?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; said Femke, hesitating, but still with a <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb174" href="#pb174">174</a>]</span>readiness
+          that delighted Walter. &ldquo;Yes, of course I expected to see you
+          again. And I had a mass said for your recovery.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Really?&rdquo; said Walter, who hardly knew what it meant.
+          &ldquo;You did that for me?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and I prayed, too. I should have been sad if you had died.
+          For I believe you are a good boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I ought to have come sooner; and I wanted to, but&mdash;Femke,
+          I was afraid.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He related to her how he had been near her on Sunday. The girl
+          attributed his timidity to his diffidence toward her mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My mother is a good woman. She wouldn&rsquo;t hurt anybody, but&mdash;you
+          understand. She doesn&rsquo;t mix with people much. I understand the
+          world better, because, you see, I was a nurse for three weeks. I was
+          only substituting; I was too young to be a real nurse. It was at a
+          relation&rsquo;s of ours, where the girl was sick. You know we really
+          come of a good family. But that makes no difference. Tell me, are you
+          well and strong again?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter told her now all about his sickness, and soon he came
+          involuntarily to the thing that gave him most trouble, his defective
+          knowledge.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All the children know French; but at our school it isn&rsquo;t
+          taught. It&rsquo;s impossible to be a great man without knowing
+          French.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had difficulty in explaining to her that he meant something
+          other than the possession of three houses, though that might not be
+          bad.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I should like&mdash;you understand? I should like&mdash;yes&mdash;I
+          should like&mdash;how shall I explain?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb175" href="#pb175">175</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The sovereignty of Africa was on the end of his tongue; but he didn&rsquo;t
+          have the courage to put his dreams into words.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You know, Femke, that we live here in Europe. Now, down there
+          in the south, far away&mdash;I will draw it for you. We can sit down
+          here and I will show you exactly what I mean.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He selected some small sticks suitable for making outlines on the
+          ground, then he and Femke sat down on a low pile of boards. He
+          proceeded to scratch up the sand for some distance around.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That is Europe. The earth is round; that is, it consists of two
+          halves, like a doughnut. You see, it looks like a pair of spectacles.
+          With that half we are not concerned. That&rsquo;s America. You can put
+          your feet on it if you want to. Here is where we live; there is
+          England; and here is Africa. The people there are uncivilized. They
+          can&rsquo;t read, and they don&rsquo;t wear many clothes. But when a
+          traveler comes along they are very nice to him&mdash;the book says so.
+          I&rsquo;m going down there and teach all the people to read and give
+          them clothes and see to it that there is no injustice done in the
+          whole land. And then we will&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I, too?&rdquo; asked Femke in amazement.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, certainly! I wanted to ask you if you were willing to go
+          with me. We will be man and wife, you understand; so when I get to be
+          king you will be&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I? Queen?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She laughed. Involuntarily she rose and trampled to pieces all the
+          kingdoms that Walter had just laid at her feet.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But&mdash;won&rsquo;t you be my wife?&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb176" href="#pb176">176</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, you boy! How did you get such nonsense into your head? You
+          are still a child!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Will you wait then till I&rsquo;m grown up? Will you let me be
+          your friend?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly! Only you mustn&rsquo;t think of that nonsense&mdash;not
+          that you may not go to Africa later. Why not? Many people go on
+          journeys. Formerly there lived a carpenter near us, and he went to the
+          Haarlem with his whole family. But&mdash;marrying!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She laughed again. It pained Walter. The poor boy&rsquo;s first
+          proposal was turning out badly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Suddenly Femke became serious.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I know that you are a good boy; and I think a great deal of
+          you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And I!&rdquo; cried Walter. &ldquo;Femke, I have thought of you
+          all the time&mdash;when I was sick&mdash;in my fever&mdash;I don&rsquo;t
+          know what I thought of in my fever, but I think it must have been you.
+          And I talked to the picture I painted for you as if it were you; and
+          that picture answered like you and looked like you. I was Kusco and
+          Telasco, and you were Aztalpa, the daughter of the sun. Tell me,
+          Femke, may I be your friend?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl reflected a moment; and in her pure, innocent heart she felt
+          the desire to do good. Was that seventeen-year-old girl conscious of
+          the influence that Walter&rsquo;s childish soul exerted upon her?
+          Scarcely. But she wanted to give him a less cruel answer.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, certainly you shall be my friend. But&mdash;but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She was hunting for some excuse that would not hurt him, and still let
+          him see the difference in their ages. He had grown during his illness,
+          to be sure, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb177" href="#pb177">177</a>]</span>but
+          still&mdash;she could have carried him on her arm. And he had dreamed
+          of rescuing her from a fire!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My friend, yes. But then you must do everything that I require.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Everything, everything! Tell me quick what I can do for you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was painful for the girl. She didn&rsquo;t know what she should
+          require; but she was under the necessity of naming something. She had
+          always heard that it was good for children to study hard. What if she
+          should spur him on to do that?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Listen, Walter. Just for fun I told my mother that you were the
+          best in school.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I?&rdquo; cried Walter abashed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Study hard and be the first in school inside the next three
+          months,&rdquo; said Femke to the conqueror of continents, unaware of
+          the sarcasm that lay in her words. &ldquo;Otherwise, you see, my
+          mother might think I had made fun of you; and I don&rsquo;t want that
+          to happen. If you will only do that&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will do it, Femke!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then you must go home and begin at once.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus she sent him away. As she told him &ldquo;Good-bye&rdquo; she
+          noticed all at once that he was too large for her to kiss. A few hours
+          later, when Father Jansen was calling on her mother and incidentally
+          saw Walter&rsquo;s painting, Walter suddenly became a child again. The
+          priest had said that in Dutch Ophelia meant Flora, who was the
+          patron-saint of roses and forget-me-nots.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, that picture is from a little boy, a very small boy. He&rsquo;s
+          about ten years old&mdash;or nine. He&rsquo;s certainly not older than
+          nine!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb178" href="#pb178">178</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Girl, you are foolish!&rdquo; cried the mother. &ldquo;The boy
+          is fifteen.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, that may be&mdash;but I just meant that he&rsquo;s still
+          only a child.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She stuck Ophelia away in some hidden nook, and Mrs. Claus and Father
+          Jansen never saw that new edition of the old flower-goddess again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke, I will do it!&rdquo; Walter had said.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was really reason to believe that he would learn faster now; but
+          Pennewip&rsquo;s instruction would wear Femke&rsquo;s colors. Walter
+          knew very well that in requiring this service she had had his own
+          welfare in view; but this showed her interest in him, and was not so
+          bad. How would it have looked, he thought, if, after all that had gone
+          before, he had answered: &ldquo;Everything except that!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Of course he would have greatly preferred to serve his lady on some
+          journey full of adventure. But one cannot select for one&rsquo;s self
+          heroic deeds. In these days Hercules and St. George would have to put
+          up with <span class="corr" id="xd0e3980" title="Source: minature">
+          miniature</span> dragons.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At all events, Walter took hold of his work in earnest. He studied his
+          &ldquo;Ippel,&rdquo; his &ldquo;Strabbe,&rdquo; his &ldquo;National
+          History&rdquo; and even the &ldquo;Gender of Nouns,&rdquo; and
+          everything else necessary to the education of a good Netherlander.
+          Poetry was included; and Walter&rsquo;s accomplishments along this
+          line were such that other &ldquo;Herculeses&rdquo; might have envied
+          him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He had never read the stories of tournaments. No enchantress gave him
+          a charmed coat of mail; no Minerva put the head of Medusa on his
+          shield&mdash;no, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb179" href="#pb179">179</a>]</span>nothing
+          of all that. But&mdash;Keesje, the butcher&rsquo;s boy, might look
+          sharp for his laurels!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In justice to Walter it must be said that he gave his opponent fair
+          warning, in true knightly style.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At the end of three months Walter was actually the first in his
+          classes. Pennewip was compelled to take notice of it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It is strange,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;I might say that it
+          is remarkable. Yes, in a way, it is unprecedented&mdash;without a
+          parallel!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At home the result was that a great council was held regarding Walter&rsquo;s
+          future. He didn&rsquo;t want to become a compositor; and to be a
+          sailor&mdash;that would have suited him, but his mother was opposed to
+          it. Stoffel, too, objected on the ground that usually only young
+          people who are worthless on land are sent to sea.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus Walter&rsquo;s plans for conquest were slipping away from him. He
+          was not attracted by the brilliant careers that were proposed: They
+          left Africa out of account. He didn&rsquo;t want to be a
+          school-teacher, or a shoemaker, or a clerk, or a counter-jumper.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          However, after all authorities had been heard, Stoffel came to the
+          conclusion that Walter was peculiarly well fitted for &ldquo;business.&rdquo;
+          Juffrouw Pieterse agreed with him thoroughly. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb180" href="#pb180">180</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch22" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A responsible business firm wants a young man (Dt. Ref.) of
+          good family. He must be moral, well-behaved and not under fifteen
+          years old. Prospect of salary if diligent and reliable. Good treatment
+          guaranteed. Address written applications in own handwriting to &lsquo;Business,&rsquo;
+          care E. Maaskamp&rsquo;s book and art store, Nieuwendyk, Amsterdam.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The writer cannot recall what sort of art publications E. Maaskamp was
+          dealing in just at that time, and will not make any guesses, for fear
+          of getting the reader into chronological difficulties. If it should
+          become necessary in writing Walter&rsquo;s history, the writer would
+          have no compunctions of conscience in putting the republic after
+          Louis, or William I. before the republic.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And as for that &ldquo;Dt. Ref.&rdquo;&mdash;Dutch Reform&mdash;in the
+          advertisement&mdash;that gives the writer no trouble. He knows very
+          well that &ldquo;Dt. Ref.&rdquo; as a necessary qualification for
+          servants, apprentices, etc., was introduced after E. Maaskamp&rsquo;s
+          pictures had been forgotten. Nevertheless, it must be insisted upon
+          that the aforesaid abbreviation was in the advertisement which was now
+          occupying the undivided attention of the Pieterses. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb181" href="#pb181">181</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There couldn&rsquo;t be anything more fortunate,&rdquo; said
+          the mother. &ldquo;What do you think, Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother, it couldn&rsquo;t be better.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What pleases me especially is the &lsquo;well-behaved.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Moral and well-behaved, mother.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, moral and well-behaved&mdash;do you hear, Walter? Just as
+          I have always said. And &lsquo;prospect of salary.&rsquo; What do you
+          think of that, Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother; but&mdash;he must be &lsquo;diligent and reliable.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Walter, you must be diligent and reliable. Haven&rsquo;t I
+          always told you that? And they require &lsquo;Dt. Ref.&rsquo;; but you
+          are that, thank God.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother, he&rsquo;s that all right.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Stoffel, don&rsquo;t you think you&rsquo;d better write the
+          letter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But it says &lsquo;in own handwriting.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s so! But if you write the letter in your own
+          handwriting&mdash;that will be better than for such a child to write
+          it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel had some difficulty in making it plain to his mother that
+          &ldquo;own handwriting&rdquo; meant Walter&rsquo;s own handwriting;
+          but she finally saw the point, and Walter was given a seat at the
+          table.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well? What must I write at the top?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Now, have you forgotten that again? Such a simple thing? Have
+          you got down the date? Then write &lsquo;Gentlemen,&rsquo; in business
+          style. It says, &lsquo;responsible business firm.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the mother, &ldquo;and add that your father
+          had a business, too. We sold shoes from Paris. Otherwise they will
+          think we&rsquo;re only shoemakers.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb182" href="#pb182">182</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And write that you are the first in school.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And that you belong to the Dutch Reform Church.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And that you are moral and well-behaved.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And that you are diligent and reliable. Don&rsquo;t you see,
+          you may get a salary then right away.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At last the letter was ready. It only remained to stamp it and post
+          it. But why couldn&rsquo;t the young applicant deliver the letter in
+          person and save the postage? Stoffel thought there would be no
+          impropriety in such a course. Even a responsible business firm ought
+          to overlook such a detail.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With a heavy heart Walter started out on his important errand. He was
+          entering the real world, and was about to become a worshiper of the
+          great god of &ldquo;business.&rdquo; He was depressed by his lack of
+          confidence, and felt that it was unbecoming in himself to make
+          application to a &ldquo;responsible business firm.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If he met a man that looked well-to-do, he would ask himself if the
+          gentleman was a &ldquo;business man,&rdquo; and belonged to a &ldquo;responsible
+          business firm.&rdquo; This last high-sounding expression embodied
+          mysteries which he did not attempt to understand. He would learn it
+          all later.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter stammered an excuse to the young fellow in the shop for not
+          having sent his letter by post. The fellow didn&rsquo;t understand
+          him, but threw the letter carelessly into a box containing a few dozen
+          others that were awaiting the favorable consideration of Messrs.
+          Motto, Business &amp; Co.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The fellow was busy with some Turkish battles in glaring colors, and
+          declined to enter into any conversation <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb183" href="#pb183">183</a>]</span>with our hero. Walter&rsquo;s
+          mouth watered for a bright picture of Grecian chivalry. But what good
+          did it do? He had no money; and, besides, he was out for business, not
+          for heroic deeds.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Later!&rdquo; he thought.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Arrived at home he received the usual scolding. His mother maintained
+          that he had certainly not entered the shop in a &ldquo;respectable&rdquo;
+          manner; otherwise the young gentleman would have given him a
+          friendlier reception. She was afraid that those excellent gentlemen,
+          Motto, Business &amp; Co., would take this into consideration to his
+          detriment.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you say there were already a whole lot of letters there?
+          You see, Stoffel&mdash;if he only isn&rsquo;t too late! That&rsquo;s
+          the way&mdash;those people would break their necks or be first. And
+          who knows but what some of them are Roman Catholics? I wonder if they
+          all think they&rsquo;re moral and well-behaved. You can just see what
+          kind of people there are in the world!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had to go back to Maaskamp&rsquo;s and get the address of the
+          firm in question. The idea was for him to call on the firm in person
+          and thus get ahead of everybody else. Juffrouw Pieterse wanted to bet
+          her ears that not a one of the other applicants could boast of a
+          father who had sold Parisian shoes.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Tell them that! Your father never took a stitch in his life. He
+          didn&rsquo;t even know how to. It&rsquo;s only to prove that we had a
+          business, too. He never had an awl in his hand&mdash;isn&rsquo;t it
+          so, Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Those eminently respectable gentlemen, Motto, Business &amp; Co.,
+          lived&mdash;I don&rsquo;t know where they lived; but they had founded
+          on the Zeedyk a cigar store and <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb184"
+          href="#pb184">184</a>]</span>a circulating library. It was probably
+          not far from the place where six or eight centuries earlier a few
+          fishermen had founded the greatest commercial city of Europe.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter found one of those worthy gentlemen behind the counter. He was
+          in his shirt-sleeves, and was engaged in weighing out some snuff for
+          an old woman. &ldquo;Business&rdquo; was evidently being carried on.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As Walter had formed no conception of &ldquo;responsible business
+          firm,&rdquo; he was far from thinking that the gentlemen had claimed
+          too much for themselves. With his peculiar timidity he even reproached
+          himself for not having understood the conception &ldquo;business&rdquo;
+          before.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Now he understood it. Business meant to stand behind a counter, in
+          shirt-sleeves, and weigh snuff. And, too, on the Zeedyk.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The cigar store occupied only half the width of the house, and was
+          connected with the circulating library by a side door. Motto, Business
+          &amp; Co. were simultaneously cultivating two industries: those who
+          didn&rsquo;t care for snuff or tobacco could get something to read,
+          and vice versa.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Over the shelves, on the tobacco side, were posted signs bearing the
+          assurance that something was &ldquo;manufactured&rdquo; here.
+          Differing entirely from the Pieterses, these gentlemen seemed to think
+          that to make a thing meant more than merely to sell it. We leave the
+          question undecided.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Was it true that this business firm manufactured anything? The only
+          thing they manufactured was the paper bags that were to be pasted
+          together by the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb185" href="#pb185">185</a>]</span>moral,
+          well-behaved, diligent and reliable young man who was a member of the
+          Dutch Reform Church.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The amount of business done was small, the profits barely paying the
+          rent. The wicked world on the Zeedyk even said that the two blue
+          porcelain vases bearing in old-fashioned letters the inscriptions
+          &ldquo;Rappee&rdquo; and &ldquo;Zinking,&rdquo; had been borrowed from
+          a second-hand dealer in the neighborhood, and that the good man came
+          by every day to look after his property.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The shop was small, and was closed off in the rear by a green curtain,
+          which was calculated to make customers think there was something more
+          beyond. To be exact, there <i>was</i> something beyond that curtain.
+          There hung a dilapidated mirror, consoling with a lonely chair, which
+          was now ornamented by the coat of the worthy senior partner; and
+          leaning against the wall was a half-round table, on which a
+          pomatum-pot was making fun of a comb because for years it had been
+          expecting to grow new teeth. Business was not so exacting but that Mr.
+          Motto could devote a little spare time to the improvement of his
+          personal beauty. He had succeeded in developing two beautiful bunches
+          of hair on the sides of his face. They cost him much pains and grease;
+          but they were the delight of all the ladies who entered the shop.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And so you want to go into business, do you?&rdquo; asked Mr.
+          Motto, after he had given the old woman a &ldquo;pinch&rdquo; from the
+          jar. &ldquo;What all have you studied? Reading, writing, arithmetic,
+          French? Eh? And what are your parents.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;They dealt in shoes&mdash;from Paris, M&rsquo;neer. But I <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb186" href="#pb186">186</a>]</span>don&rsquo;t
+          know French. Arithmetic&mdash;yes. Went through Strabbe.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you know arithmetic, do you? How much then is a Pietje and
+          a half?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter stammered that he didn&rsquo;t know. Does the reader know?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But you must know that if you expect to calculate. And you don&rsquo;t
+          know what a Pietje is? Do you know the difference between a sesthalf
+          and a shilling? And between a dollar and a twenty-eight piece? Look&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mr. Motto pulled out the cash-drawer and seemed to be hunting for a
+          dollar; but for some reason or other he decided to make out with a
+          sesthalf. This he laid on the counter and asked Walter to imagine a
+          shilling lying beside it. He then proceeded to test Walter&rsquo;s
+          knowledge of business by asking him to point out the differences
+          between the two coins. Mr. Motto claimed that in business one must
+          know these details thoroughly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And Mr. Motto was right about it. At that time there were more
+          different kinds of money in the Netherlands than there are in Germany
+          now. To be able to distinguish the various coins readily and make
+          change accurately a regular course of study was necessary. Just as a
+          law was about to be passed to confer the title, &ldquo;Doctor of
+          Numismatics,&rdquo; on examination, the secretary of the treasury
+          discovered that all this trouble could be spared by simplifying the
+          money. He became very unpopular after this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In Walter&rsquo;s time, though, such a reform had not been thought of.
+          The florin had twenty stivers; the regular Holland dollar had fifty
+          stivers, the Zeeland <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb187" href="#pb187">187</a>]</span>dollar
+          had forty-two. The dollar was worth a florin and a half, and the gold
+          florin was called a &ldquo;twenty-eight,&rdquo; because it contained
+          twenty-eight stivers. The coins were well-worn and seldom exhibited
+          any traces of inscriptions, milling, etc. Matters were further
+          complicated by three-florin pieces and ducats of sixty-three stivers,
+          not to mention any other coins.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For Walter the money question was a serious one.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you don&rsquo;t know French, either?&rdquo; in a tone that
+          was scarcely encouraging.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; mournfully.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And would your parents put up cash security for you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter didn&rsquo;t understand the question.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Caution. Don&rsquo;t you understand? Security! There&rsquo;s
+          lots of money handled, and I must know who I&rsquo;m turning the shop
+          over to. And&mdash;do you know Danish?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mr. Motto did not always speak grammatically.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No&mdash;M&rsquo;neer.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What! Nor Danish, either? But Danish sailors come in here to
+          buy tobacco, and then you need to speak Danish. In a business like
+          this here you must know all languages. That&rsquo;s the main thing&mdash;otherwise
+          your cake&rsquo;s dough! I&rsquo;ve even had Greeks to come in here.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s heart gave a jump. What heroic deeds might they not do
+          on such occasions!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Greeks; but they were drunk and wanted a smoke for
+          nothing. We don&rsquo;t do it that way. The main thing is to look out
+          for the little things. Otherwise your cake&rsquo;s dough, you
+          understand. Yes, in <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb188" href="#pb188">188</a>]</span>business
+          you must know all languages, otherwise you can&rsquo;t talk to the
+          customers. That&rsquo;s the main thing. But that will be all right if
+          your parents can deposit a caution. Sometimes there are at least ten
+          florins in the cash-drawer, you know; and in business a man must have
+          security. That&rsquo;s the main thing. Otherwise your cake&rsquo;s
+          dough; you can see that for yourself.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My father is dead,&rdquo; said Walter, as if that fact rendered
+          the cash security unnecessary. He didn&rsquo;t know anything else to
+          say.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That so? Dead! Yes, it often happens. Dead? All right! But
+          haven&rsquo;t you a mother who can pay for you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&mdash;will&mdash;ask&mdash;her,&rdquo; Walter stammered.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly. Ask her right away; for you know in business things
+          are done in a hurry. Said, done! That&rsquo;s the main thing.
+          Otherwise your cake&rsquo;s dough. Here is another shop, and you will
+          have work to do in there, too&mdash;if your mother can put up the
+          money. That&rsquo;s the main thing.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mr. Motto conducted Walter into the circulating library. On three
+          sides of the room were bookcases reaching to the rather low ceiling.
+          For the rest, the place was provided with a ladder to be used in
+          gathering such fruits of literature as hung out of reach. And then
+          there was a big, thick book, in which the diligent and reliable young
+          man of Protestant faith was to enroll the names of the people who paid
+          a dubbeltje a week for a book. It&rsquo;s cheaper now.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You see,&rdquo; said Mr. Motto, &ldquo;that is the book, so to
+          say the great book. You understand bookkeeping, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb189" href="#pb189">189</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Unfortunately Walter had to admit that he had not yet studied that
+          branch.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Nor bookkeeping, either? Boy! that&rsquo;s the main thing in
+          business. If a man can&rsquo;t do that his cake&rsquo;s dough. It&rsquo;s
+          very simple. You write down who takes out a book, with the day and
+          date and street and number. And when they bring the book back you
+          drawn a line through it; and you&rsquo;ve got a pretty kettle of fish
+          if you don&rsquo;t do it. When you don&rsquo;t know the people you
+          must&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ask for a deposit!&rdquo; cried Walter quickly, rejoiced that
+          he knew something. It&rsquo;s doubtful if he knew what he was to draw
+          the line through.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, a deposit. A florin a week for a volume. Then, you
+          understand, when a volume&rsquo;s gone, the cake&rsquo;s dough with
+          that volume. Later I will explain to you everything about the cigars
+          and tobacco; but first I must know whether your mother&mdash;ask her
+          right away! And now I&rsquo;ve explained everything to you at least
+          half a dozen times. For there&rsquo;s no lack of boys that want to go
+          into business; but when it comes to Moses and the Prophets&mdash;then
+          they set the bow-sails. And that&rsquo;s the main thing. Otherwise you
+          look a little delicate, but I must know first if your mother can
+          deposit a caution. <i>Adieu!</i>&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter went home in a peculiar frame of mind. At first the family did
+          not think favorably of that &ldquo;cash security.&rdquo; Stoffel,
+          however, had often heard of such things, and negotiations were opened
+          with the said firm. It was finally agreed that a deposit of one
+          hundred florins should be made, for which the firm agreed to pay 3&frac12;%
+          interest. <span class="corr" id="xd0e4168" title="Source: Juffrow">
+          Juffrouw</span> Pieterse was <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb190"
+          href="#pb190">190</a>]</span>not quite satisfied with this, as she was
+          accustomed to getting 4%; but &ldquo;one must do something for one&rsquo;s
+          children.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel, who represented the Pieterses in these negotiations, was
+          surprised that he never got to see more than the first half of the
+          firm&mdash;or, better, the first third. He even took the liberty of
+          remarking on the peculiar circumstance, when he learned that the
+          &ldquo;Co.&rdquo; was merely ornamental, while &ldquo;Business&rdquo;
+          existed only in Mr. Motto&rsquo;s imagination. In fact that handsome
+          and worthy gentleman alone constituted the &ldquo;responsible business
+          firm,&rdquo; and like an Atlas carried on his broad shoulders all the
+          responsibilities incident to such a complicated and extensive
+          undertaking. It was quite natural that he should desire to put a part
+          of the burden on the back of some diligent, reliable Protestant boy,
+          who could furnish cash security. For that was &ldquo;the main thing.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On the library side Walter developed a diligence against which only
+          one thing could be urged: it was prejudicial to the tobacco industry
+          adjoining. If he had smoked as much as he read, he would have made
+          himself sick; and even his reading wasn&rsquo;t the best thing in the
+          world for his health.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He devoured everything indiscriminately&mdash;whether ripe or green.
+          Most of that literary fruit was green. In a short time he was able to
+          foretell the fate of the hero with a certainty that would have piqued
+          the author. The cleverest literary craftsman couldn&rsquo;t let the
+          poor orphan boy be as poor as a church mouse for ten pages, but that
+          Walter would see the flashing of the stars and knightly crucifixes
+          with which he was <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb191" href="#pb191">191</a>]</span>to
+          be decked out on the last page. One might think this would cause him
+          to lose interest in the book; but, no! He was constant to the end&mdash;to
+          the official triumph. For him it would have been a sin to call to the
+          Saxons and Normans a second too soon: &ldquo;See if Ivanhoe isn&rsquo;t
+          going to smash that big-mouthed Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert!&rdquo; And
+          all the time he felt as if he were&mdash;Ivanhoe? No, as if he were
+          the deity, who must give the hero strength to overcome that infamous
+          scoundrel, Brian de Bois-Guilbert.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then all at once the door-bell would ring, and the magnanimous Walter
+          would have to occupy himself with things less chivalrous.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The only thing he could do in such moments was to weigh accurately,
+          and not give anybody a cigar from the &ldquo;tens&rdquo; instead of
+          from the &ldquo;eights.&rdquo; Such conscienciousness, however, was
+          futile, for in the cigar-boxes were cigars that ought to have been
+          called &ldquo;twenties.&rdquo; Mr. Motto said that the customers were
+          usually drunk, and that it was all right to give them cabbage leaves
+          to smoke. &ldquo;You must size up your customer. That&rsquo;s the main
+          thing.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This was something Walter never could learn. With him, ten was ten,
+          eight eight&mdash;no matter who the customer was. To take an unfair
+          advantage, or tell a lie never occurred to him. From fear or
+          embarrassment he might possibly tell an untruth; but if he had been
+          asked a second time&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As strange as it may seem, this aversion to lying and deception was
+          nourished by the books he read. The brave knight fought till he was
+          victorious, or dead. Only the fatally wounded surrendered. All <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb192" href="#pb192">192</a>]</span>this had
+          Walter&rsquo;s hearty endorsement: He would not have acted
+          differently. The beautiful heroine was loved by everybody; and the
+          rejected suitors died of despair, or joined some desperate band. All
+          quite proper. The good remained steadfast, in spite of the Devil and
+          all his machinations&mdash;yes, in spite of tedium. Once selected by
+          the author to be a high-toned, moral hero&mdash;then spotless
+          garments! Walter wondered if such a one could have a pain in the
+          stomach, or suffer other inconvenience. Certainly not in books!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He did not know that such perfection was humbug. He was satisfied when
+          the characters in such novels did what was required of them by the
+          author. The villains were always betraying somebody; the heroes killed
+          everything that got in their way; and the beautiful virgins charmed
+          everybody. Even God, the God of romance, did his duty much better than&mdash;but
+          that&rsquo;s another detail.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yesterday on the Zeedyk a big boy had beaten a little fellow. That
+          ought to happen in a book. How all the knights would have come
+          running! Walter, too, was going to&mdash;but how could he help it if
+          his employer called him back? &ldquo;What in the devil have you got to
+          do with that? Your work is here in the store. You attend to your own
+          business now, and don&rsquo;t mix yourself in other people&rsquo;s
+          brawls. That&rsquo;s the main thing!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As a rule of conduct, this was not just what Walter was used to in his
+          novels.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Despite such interruptions he continued his reading. He was almost
+          ready to begin on the last section of <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb193" href="#pb193">193</a>]</span>books, when he came to the
+          store one morning and found everything locked up and under seal.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The worthy Mr. Motto, it seems, had gone to America, as a sailor; and
+          doubtless that was the &ldquo;main thing.&rdquo; The unfortunate owner
+          of the two snuff-vases had a big law suit over them. The point was
+          whether they were a part of the assets, or not.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On the Zeedyk at Amsterdam such processes must be tried according to
+          Roman law; but as the Romans did not use snuff there is nothing said
+          about &ldquo;Rappee&rdquo; in the Roman laws. The writer doesn&rsquo;t
+          know how the matter finally turned out. It is to be hoped that
+          everybody got what was coming to him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Pieterse, however, did not recover her hundred florins; and,
+          as usual, she groaned: &ldquo;There&rsquo;s always trouble with this
+          boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter couldn&rsquo;t help her. He had his own troubles: he had been
+          cruelly interrupted in his reading. Of course the mysterious parentage
+          of the young robber was perfectly clear to him; but still one likes to
+          see whether one has guessed correctly, or not. <span class="pagenum">
+          [<a id="pb194" href="#pb194">194</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch23" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXIII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          <span class="corr" id="xd0e4214" title="Not in source"> &ldquo;</span>Do
+          you think stivers grow on my back?&rdquo; asked the mother the next
+          day. &ldquo;You still don&rsquo;t earn a doit! Do you have to buy
+          tobacco for old soldiers?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had nothing to say. Recently his mother had given him a
+          shilling to give to Holsma&rsquo;s maid. Walter neglected to do this,
+          and spent one stiver of the money on snuff for an old soldier.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mother continued her tirade, making use of the word &ldquo;prodigue,&rdquo;
+          prodigal.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother,&rdquo; said Stoffel, &ldquo;that isn&rsquo;t it. He&rsquo;s
+          behind in everything. He doesn&rsquo;t know yet how to handle money,
+          that&rsquo;s it!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes. He doesn&rsquo;t know how to handle money! All the other
+          children at his age&mdash;when they have a stiver they either save it
+          or buy themselves something. And he&mdash;what does he do? He goes and
+          gives it away! Boy, boy, will you never learn any sense?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was cut to the quick by the accusation of wastefulness and
+          prodigality. In his eyes a prodigal was somebody, a man! &ldquo;Prodigue,
+          prodigue,&rdquo; he murmured. He knew the word.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In one of the bedrooms hung a series of crude, highly colored pictures
+          illustrating the story of the prodigal son. The pictures were French;
+          and a study <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb195" href="#pb195">195</a>]</span>of
+          the titles convinced the family that &ldquo;prodigue&rdquo; could mean
+          nothing but prodigal in the worst sense, <i>i. e.</i>, &ldquo;lost.&rdquo;
+          Stoffel had maintained this proposition against one of his colleagues,
+          till that one drew a lexicon on him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After much argument it was decided to compromise on the &ldquo;mistake&rdquo;
+          in the French Bible by allowing &ldquo;prodigue&rdquo; to have
+          sometimes the meaning of &ldquo;extravagant.&rdquo; Those pictures had
+          afforded Walter much food for thought.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <i>First picture:</i> The &ldquo;lost&rdquo; or prodigal son tells his
+          father good-bye. The old gentleman wears a purple coat. Very pretty&mdash;but
+          the prodigal himself! A mantle floated about his shoulders&mdash;it
+          seemed to be windy in the colonnade. It was princely; and his turkish
+          trousers were of pure gold. At his side was a bent sabre, and on his
+          head a turban, with a stone in it&mdash;certainly onyx, or sardonox,
+          or a pearl, or a precious stone&mdash;or whatever it might be!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The old gentleman seemed to be out of humor; but no wonder&mdash;all
+          those loaded camels, and the slaves, and all the accessories for that
+          long, long journey! A negro, as black as pitch, was holding a horse by
+          the rein. Another negro was holding the stirrup, and seemed to say:
+          &ldquo;Off to the Devil; prodigal, get on!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          What boy wouldn&rsquo;t have been a prodigal son? The bent sabre alone
+          was worth the sin.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <i>Second picture:</i> Hm&mdash;hm. Wicked, wicked! Why, certainly;
+          but not for Walter, who in his innocence attached no importance to the
+          extravagant dresses of the &ldquo;Juffrouwen.&rdquo; It was sufficient
+          that all were eating and drinking bountifully, and that they <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb196" href="#pb196">196</a>]</span>were in
+          good <span class="corr" id="xd0e4250" title="Source: spirts"> spirits</span>
+          and enjoying themselves. How prettily one of the girls, in glossy
+          silk, was leaning over the shoulder of the &ldquo;lost&rdquo; one! How
+          much nicer to be lost than found!&mdash;anyway, that was the
+          impression the feast made on Walter. The true purpose of the picture&mdash;to
+          deter people from a life of dissoluteness&mdash;escaped Walter
+          entirely. Perhaps he knew what it meant; but in his heart he felt that
+          it meant something else. What attracted him most was not the food and
+          drink, under which the table &ldquo;groaned,&rdquo; nor the sinful
+          sensuality painted on the faces of the ladies. It was the freedom and
+          unconventionality of the company that charmed him. In order to
+          emphasize the idea of prodigality, the painter had allowed some big
+          dogs to upset an open cask of wine.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The wine was streaming, and straying away as if it were the lost
+          sinner. This pleased Walter immensely. None of the guests seemed to
+          notice such a small trifle, not even the waiters. This ought to have
+          happened just once in the Pieterse home&mdash;and even if it were only
+          a stein of beer!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The artist says to himself, Do you suppose I didn&rsquo;t foresee the
+          seductive influence of such a picture? The next one makes it all
+          right!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Well, maybe so.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <i>Third picture:</i> Magnificent. How romantic this wilderness! Oh,
+          to sit there on that boulder and stare into the immeasurable depths of
+          the universe&mdash;alone!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To think, think, think!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No schoolmaster, no mother, brother, or anyone to <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb197" href="#pb197">197</a>]</span>say what he must do with his
+          heart, with his time, with his elbows, or with his breeches! That&rsquo;s
+          the way Walter saw it. The young man there didn&rsquo;t even have on
+          breeches; and he looked as if he wouldn&rsquo;t have been ashamed to
+          stretch himself out on his back, with his arms over his head, and
+          watch with wide-open eyes the passing of the moon and stars. Walter
+          asked himself what he would think of when he had founded such an
+          empire of solitude.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Hm! Femke could sit on the boulder with him. Prodigal son&mdash;oh,
+          sin divine with her! He was surprised that in the whole Bible there
+          was only one prodigal son. Of all sins this seemed to him the most
+          seductive.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And the desert was so&mdash;endurable. There were trees in it, which
+          one could climb, when one really got lost, or use to build a nice
+          little cabin&mdash;for Femke, of course.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The prodigal in the picture didn&rsquo;t seem to have thought of all
+          that. Why wasn&rsquo;t the Juffrouw in green silk with him? She will
+          come soon, Walter said to himself. Perhaps she&rsquo;s not quite
+          through with her prodigality. If she would only hurry up and come! He
+          longs for her. But that is the only annoyance that a genuine prodigal
+          takes with him from the profane world into that capital wilderness.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It must be remarked in passing, however, that the hogs with which that
+          picture was equipped looked ugly. The pious artist had made them
+          shield-bearers of sin, and had supplied their physiognomies with all
+          kinds of horrible features. And, too, the trough looked dirty. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb198" href="#pb198">198</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If it happens to me, said Walter, I&rsquo;ll take sheep with me; and
+          Femke can card the wool.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The artist ought to admit that even this third picture is inadequate
+          to inspire a proper disgust for prodigality.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And the fourth one? No better.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The old gentleman is excessively friendly. We are again in the
+          colonnade, where the camels have just waited so patiently. One of the
+          slaves clasps his hands and looks toward heaven&mdash;because he&rsquo;s
+          glad, of course, that little Walter has come back.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He? The real Walter? Returned home, and friendly received in his high
+          rank of a &ldquo;has-been&rdquo; and &ldquo;recovered&rdquo; prodigal?
+          Oh, no!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And that fatted calf! In direct opposition to the custom that was
+          familiar to Walter! It worried the boy. Juffrouw Pieterse never
+          slaughtered anything. She ran a weekly account with Keesje&rsquo;s
+          father; and even a roast was a rarity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was no prospect of a fatted calf, whether he became a prodigal
+          or not. But that didn&rsquo;t keep the rank of a prodigal from being
+          higher than that of a stupid boy who didn&rsquo;t know how to handle
+          money.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was encouraged to think that he was indebted to his friendly enemy,
+          Juffrouw Laps, for something. She always cited the Bible, and spoke
+          continually of feeding swine. Walter wanted to answer: &ldquo;That&rsquo;s
+          very nice, Juffrouw Laps, but can&rsquo;t it be sheep this time?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He knew very well that she had never had any passion for carding, and
+          consequently was not interested <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb199"
+          href="#pb199">199</a>]</span>in that blue muffler, which would be so
+          becoming to Femke&rsquo;s favorite sheep.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But she assured him that he was a prodigal; and that was enough.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I&rsquo;ve always said!&rdquo; replied
+          Juffrouw Pieterse. &ldquo;What does he do but squander his mother&rsquo;s
+          money? If that man wants snuff, let him buy it. The king pays him. I
+          have to work too hard for my money. Don&rsquo;t I, Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother; but it&rsquo;s only childishness in Walter!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Childishness! That&rsquo;s what I call it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No it isn&rsquo;t!&rdquo; cried the pious Laps. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s
+          on the straight road to the trough of Luke 15. He will eat husks! Do
+          you think the Master doesn&rsquo;t carry out his parables? Just send
+          him to me. The pastors are to blame for it. They don&rsquo;t explain
+          the Bible. Send him to me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If I only knew how he gets such things into his head!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know? It&rsquo;s arrogance!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She spoke the truth.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Arrogance, Arrogance pure and simple&mdash;just as it was in
+          Belshazzar, or Sennacherib, or Nebuchadnezzar.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How thankful Walter was! If at this moment he had had a letter to
+          write&mdash;preferably to Femke&mdash;he would have boasted of being
+          as wicked as three old kings put together.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Arrogance!&rdquo; repeated Juffrouw Laps. &ldquo;Gold on top,
+          iron in the middle, and feet of clay. The Master will overthrow him.
+          Send him to me.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb200"
+          href="#pb200">200</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This invitation to turn over the royal villain to her for religious
+          instruction was repeated so often that it was necessary to give her an
+          answer.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, dear Juffrouw, the boy don&rsquo;t want to. He&rsquo;s
+          stubborn; and what can one do with such a child?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter knew that his mother was not quite truthful; but, after his
+          former experience with his friendly enemy, he found it desirable to
+          keep quiet. When pressed, however, for an explanation he said:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The man wanted snuff, and nobody would give him any; so I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps knew enough. Walter was as good as her prisoner: she now
+          knew exactly how to take his fortifications, if they could be taken at
+          all.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If he doesn&rsquo;t want to come to me, don&rsquo;t compel him,&rdquo;
+          she said sweetly on leaving. &ldquo;To force him won&rsquo;t do any
+          good. Let him exercise his own pleasure. I&rsquo;m afraid you pick at
+          the child too much, anyway. What an awful fuss we&rsquo;ve made over a
+          stiver!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I say, too,&rdquo; replied the mother.
+          &ldquo;It looks as if we begrudged him the money! We could have spared
+          another stiver, and we wouldn&rsquo;t have missed it, would we,
+          Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother, but it&rsquo;s time for Walter&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Goodness, what a hullaballoo to raise about a few pinches of
+          snuff! The Master will repay it seven times seventy times. Whatever ye
+          have done to the least of my brothers&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With this consoling passage on her lips she took her leave of the
+          astonished family.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, it wasn&rsquo;t so easy to see through Juffrouw Laps! <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb201" href="#pb201">201</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch24" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXIV
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          In his efforts to reconcile the various conflicting authorities
+          contesting for supremacy in his soul, Walter threw himself into a
+          severe spell of blues. He was not conscious of the contrast between
+          the world of his high-flown fancy and the earthy environment of his
+          home-life. The sympathetic care which he should have received after
+          his illness had not fallen to his lot.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He felt dejected.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke!&rdquo; he thought; and he longed for her fresh healthy
+          face, for her pure, unselfish glance, for her friendly smile. The
+          Fancy that had led him away to the stars in search of his misty sister
+          had got lodged on that girl of the Amsterdam lowlands, Femke&mdash;with
+          her unpoetical length, breadth, thickness, and weight.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am going to see her,&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I will! And if
+          Mrs. Claus asks me about worms a dozen times, it&rsquo;s all the same
+          to me; I am going to see her!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter reached the house and knocked. &ldquo;Come in!&rdquo; someone
+          called. This was a little sudden, for it took some time to get hold of
+          the latch. But Walter did it. Perhaps he was thinking of Missolonghi.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Turks that he saw now were not revolting in appearance. They were
+          unarmed and did not murder a single baby. <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb202" href="#pb202">202</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But&mdash;Femke was not in the party.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mrs. Claus was at the wash-tub, while Father Jansen was quietly
+          smoking.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is that you, young man? Very nice! That&rsquo;s the young man
+          who gave Femke the picture, you remember, father?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The father nodded to him kindly and smoked away, without manifesting
+          any special Godliness.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Juffrouw, I wanted to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Very nice of you! Won&rsquo;t you have a slice of bread and
+          butter? And how is your mother? Is she better now? She was sick, wasn&rsquo;t
+          she? That&rsquo;s a good boy, father. Femke said so. Is your mother
+          better again? It was fever, wasn&rsquo;t it? or apoplexy&mdash;or what
+          was it then?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, no! Juffrouw.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You mustn&rsquo;t call me Juffrouw. I am only a wash-woman.
+          Everyone must stay in his own class, mustn&rsquo;t he, father? Well,
+          it&rsquo;s all the better; I thought she had been sick. It must have
+          been somebody else. One has so much to think of. Do you like cheese?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The good woman prepared a slice of bread and butter, with cheese. If
+          Trudie could have seen it, she would have fainted. In the &ldquo;citizen&rsquo;s
+          class,&rdquo; such and such a sub-class, according to Pennewip, is
+          found a certain scantiness that does not obtain in the common laboring
+          class. In the matter of eating, laborers, who do not invest their
+          money in Geneva, are not troubled so much by &ldquo;good form&rdquo;
+          as people who give their children French names.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had never seen such a slice of bread. He didn&rsquo;t know
+          whether he ought to bite through the <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb203" href="#pb203">203</a>]</span>width, or the thickness. The
+          bit of cheese gave him his cue.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He liked Mrs. Claus much better this time. And Father Jansen, too;
+          even if he wasn&rsquo;t like Walter had imagined him to be.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He had never conceived a preacher as being anything else but a very
+          supernatural and spiritual and celestial sort of person. Father Jansen
+          didn&rsquo;t seem to be that kind of a man at all.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He visited the sheep of his fold, especially the plain people, not to
+          make a display of beneficence&mdash;for he had nothing, but because he
+          was happiest among simple people. He was fond of bread and butter of
+          the Mrs. Claus variety. For the rest, he said mass, preached about
+          sin, catechised, confirmed, absolved, and did whatever needed to be
+          done. He performed the functions of his office, and did not think it
+          at all strange that he should have gone into the church, while his
+          brother in Nordbrabant succeeded to the business of his father, who
+          was a farrier and inn-keeper.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And what are you going to be?&rdquo; he asked Walter; &ldquo;for
+          everybody in the world must be something. Wouldn&rsquo;t you like to
+          be a bookbinder? That&rsquo;s a good trade.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I was&mdash;I was in business, M&rsquo;neer; and I&rsquo;m
+          going back to business.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s good, my boy. You may get rich. Especially here in
+          Amsterdam; for Amsterdam is a commercial city.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter wanted to add: &ldquo;The greatest commercial city of Europe.&rdquo;
+          But he was abashed by the&mdash;worldliness <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb204" href="#pb204">204</a>]</span>of Father Jansen&rsquo;s talk.
+          He didn&rsquo;t find it disagreeable: he was merely surprised at it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A boy like you ought to eat a lot. You look pale. My brother
+          can bend a horseshoe. What do you say to that? Have you ever eaten our
+          Brabant bread? Ham isn&rsquo;t bad, either. A person that doesn&rsquo;t
+          eat enough gets weak. I always eat two slices of bread and butter
+          whenever I&rsquo;m here at Mrs. Claus&rsquo;s; but I&rsquo;m not
+          nearly so strong as my brother. You ought to see the Vucht fair. That&rsquo;s
+          a great time.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was more than surprised to hear such talk from a preacher: he
+          was almost pleased. He had never received such charming messages from
+          heaven. Of course they came from heaven, those friendly words uttered
+          in Brabant dialect between the puffs of Father Jansen&rsquo;s pipe.
+          This man in a priest&rsquo;s coat chattered away as if there were no
+          such thing in the world as God, Grace, and Hell&mdash;especially the
+          latter. He was as happy as a child in telling about the strength of
+          his brother, the horseshoer. It was his business to lead the world to
+          eternal happiness; and he liked thick slices of bread and butter with
+          cheese.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had never had religious things opened up to him so
+          delightfully. He felt encouraged to speak:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;M&rsquo;neer, I would like to know who God is!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Father Jansen started, and looked at Walter as if he hadn&rsquo;t
+          clearly understood the question.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes&mdash;that&rsquo;s very praiseworthy in you. You must&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, father,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Claus, &ldquo;the child isn&rsquo;t
+          in the church! Are you?&rdquo;&mdash;to Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Juffrouw, I have been confirmed.&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb205" href="#pb205">205</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;To be sure, to be sure, but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;On the Noordermarkt!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, you see he&rsquo;s in the church all right.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The good woman didn&rsquo;t have the heart&mdash;or else she had too
+          much heart&mdash;to tell the father that it wasn&rsquo;t the right
+          church.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Whoever wants to get acquainted with God,&rdquo; said Father
+          Jansen, &ldquo;must study diligently.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;To be sure,&rdquo; said Mrs. Claus, &ldquo;the articles of
+          faith. You ought to hear my Femke repeat them. It&rsquo;s a pleasure,
+          isn&rsquo;t it, father? She&rsquo;s my only child, but&mdash;she&rsquo;s
+          a girl worth having!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Femke is an excellent girl. I don&rsquo;t have any trouble
+          with her.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The father spoke in a business-like manner; and he meant it that way.
+          The spots on Femke&rsquo;s soul were easily removed. He praised Femke
+          as a cook would praise a kitchen-pot.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Father Jansen had still more praise for Femke: she had patched his
+          drawers so nicely.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, Fancy!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The mention of this fact did not touch Walter&rsquo;s &aelig;sthetic
+          feelings. With him there were other considerations. Fancy was used to
+          seeing everything nude&mdash;fathers, humanity&mdash;so there was no
+          difficulty here.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was sixteen years old, already a little man&mdash;why must
+          Femke patch drawers for this father!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the mother. &ldquo;Femke is clever at
+          patching. If you&rsquo;ve got anything else that needs mending, just
+          send it over.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was warm. If it had been collars, socks, <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb206" href="#pb206">206</a>]</span>waistcoats, or&mdash;well, if
+          it had to be something questionable&mdash;if it had only been
+          trousers!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just send it over, and if Femke isn&rsquo;t here&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where is she going to be?&rdquo; thought Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then I will attend to it myself. I can do it neatly.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thank God! Dear, good, magnificent Mrs. Claus! Do it, do it yourself,
+          and leave Femke where she is.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But&mdash;where was she?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus Walter&rsquo;s thoughts; but what did he say?&mdash;the
+          hypocrite, the budding man.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, indeed, Mrs. Claus, I had almost forgotten to ask where
+          your daughter Femke is.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke? She&rsquo;s at my niece&rsquo;s, where the girl is sick.
+          You know we&rsquo;re of good family. Femke is looking after my niece&rsquo;s
+          children.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter didn&rsquo;t have the courage to ask where this niece lived, so
+          he assumed a look of contentment.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After much waiting and twisting and turning on his chair, Walter
+          finally left the house with Father Jansen. He had not yet learned how
+          to end a visit: some people never learn it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you want to do me a favor?&rdquo; said the good
+          man. &ldquo;Then walk on my right side. I&rsquo;m deaf here&rdquo;&mdash;pointing
+          to his left ear.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will tell you how it happened. When I was a little boy&mdash;are
+          you a good climber?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, M&rsquo;neer!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, I am! In the whole of Vucht there wasn&rsquo;t a boy who
+          could climb as well as I could. Do you know what I did once? I climbed
+          up and slipped a flower-pot from a third-story window. And&mdash;my
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb207" href="#pb207">207</a>]</span>priest
+          wasn&rsquo;t in a good humor at all! He didn&rsquo;t want to accept me
+          till I had returned that flower-pot; and then I had to go and beg the
+          old woman&rsquo;s pardon. And she herself went to the priest to
+          intercede for me. Then he accepted me. But I got twenty &lsquo;confiteors&rsquo;&mdash;oh,
+          he was severe!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But I was going to tell you why I&rsquo;m deaf in the left ear.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;In one of the seminaries was a student&mdash;he&rsquo;s a
+          canonicus in the Rhine country, and will get to be a cardinal, perhaps
+          pope, for&mdash;he was very sly! I will tell you, his name was&mdash;Rake;
+          but, you understand, his name was really something else. This Rake was
+          a mean rascal; but he was never punished, because he was careful. See
+          if he doesn&rsquo;t get to be a cardinal, or pope! You ought to hear
+          him quote from the Vulgate. He could rattle away for three hours and
+          never made a mistake.&rdquo; * * *
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you perfectly crazy, boy, or what is the matter with you?
+          Walking with a priest! What in the name of the Lord are you thinking
+          about? Go in the house&mdash;quick! Jesu, what troubles I have with
+          that child!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With these words Juffrouw Pieterse broke off Walter&rsquo;s
+          acquaintance with Father Jansen for this time.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The way that the father and Walter had taken led them directly by
+          Walter&rsquo;s home. Juffrouw Pieterse, who was haggling with a Jew
+          over the price of a basket of potatoes, narrowly escaped a stroke of
+          apoplexy when she saw them together.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;With a priest!&mdash;Stoffel! Come down quick&mdash;that boy is
+          walking with a priest!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb208"
+          href="#pb208">208</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Tears rose in Walter&rsquo;s eyes. He had found Father Jansen a good
+          man, and was grieved that that gentleman should meet with such a
+          reception.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It is to be hoped that those rude words were received by his left ear.
+          In fact, this seemed to be the case, for when Walter said that he was
+          at home now and that his mother was calling him, Father Jansen
+          answered kindly:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So? You live there? Then I will tell you the next time why I am
+          so deaf in my left ear&mdash;entirely deaf, you understand!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thank God, Walter thought, and wiped away his tears. In his eyes his
+          mother had committed a sin so grave that about fifty &ldquo;confiteors&rdquo;
+          would be necessary for its expiation.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, yes. I was going to tell you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With these words Father Jansen turned around again. He continued:
+          &ldquo;The flower-pot of the old lady, Juffrouw Dungelaar, you know&mdash;it
+          wasn&rsquo;t for the flowers, you understand, nor for the pot, but
+          only because I could climb so well. Otherwise&mdash;one mustn&rsquo;t
+          take anything away, even if it is so high up. <i> Adieu</i>, young
+          man!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          After giving Juffrouw Pieterse a friendly greeting that she did not
+          deserve, the man continued on his way.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel said that to walk with a priest was &ldquo;simply
+          preposterous.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;As if he were crazy!&rdquo; said Juffrouw Pieterse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; agreed Stoffel, &ldquo;but it&rsquo;s because he
+          has nothing to do but loaf around. If that keeps up, he will never
+          amount to anything.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb209"
+          href="#pb209">209</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          True, Walter was loafing around; but he was not idle. His activities
+          brought nothing palpable to light, still he was building up the inner
+          life in a manner of which Stoffel had no idea.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo; said the mother. &ldquo;He must have work. If
+          he were only willing to be a compositor! or an apprentice in the
+          shoe-business. To make shoes&mdash;that he shall never do.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;This running with priests comes only from idleness, mother. Do
+          I run with priests? Never. Why not? Because I have to go to my school
+          every day!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Stoffel, you go to your school every day.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Besides, there are good priests. There was Luther, for
+          instance. He was a sort of priest. What did he do?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, I know. He reformed the people.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He made them Lutherans, mother; but that&rsquo;s almost the
+          same thing. One mustn&rsquo;t be narrow-minded.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I say, Stoffel, people ought not to be so
+          narrow-minded. What difference does it make what a person&rsquo;s
+          religion is, just so he&rsquo;s upright, and not a Roman Catholic!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When Walter told Father Jansen that he &ldquo;was in business,&rdquo;
+          and that he was &ldquo;going back to business,&rdquo; he spoke better
+          than he himself knew. He did go back to business.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Through a leather-dealer, who, speaking commercially, was in close
+          touch with shoes that came from Paris, Walter got a position with a
+          firm whose &ldquo;responsibility&rdquo; was somewhat less apocryphal
+          than that of Messrs. Motto, Business &amp; Co. He was to begin his new
+          apprenticeship in the offices of Messrs. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb210" href="#pb210">210</a>]</span>Ouwetyd &amp; Kopperlith, a
+          firm of world-wide reputation.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          However, before he was to enter upon his new duties, all sorts of
+          things were destined to happen, with the tendency to make Walter
+          appear as a &ldquo;hero of romance,&rdquo; which he wasn&rsquo;t at
+          all. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb211" href="#pb211">211</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch25" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXV
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          It was Thursday. Stoffel came home with the important news that the
+          king&mdash;I don&rsquo;t know what king&mdash;had arrived in the city
+          unexpectedly and would visit the theatre that evening. Everything and
+          everybody was in a commotion; for in republican countries much
+          importance is given to pomp and title.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This time curiosity was more wrought up than usual. Many foreign
+          princes, including an emperor, were visiting the king; and these
+          distinguished personages would follow the court to Amsterdam, coming
+          from The Hague, Utrecht and Haarlem. To put it tamely, it was to be a
+          great occasion.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That republican populace was to get to see the countenance and
+          coat-tails not only of their tyrant, but also the countenances and
+          coat-tails of many other tyrants, not to mention female tyrants.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The old doughnut women on the &ldquo;Dam,&rdquo; which the city rented
+          to them as a market-place, were threatening to bring suit against the
+          city. They felt that it was hard to have to pay rent for the fresh
+          air, day after day, with the prospect of selling a few doughnuts to
+          the youth of the street, and now be run out because his majesty wanted
+          to exhibit himself to the people from the balcony of the old City
+          Hall.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Why shouldn&rsquo;t the old women be seen at their accustomed places?
+          Must the doughnut industry be carried on secretly? Was it for fear of
+          imitations and <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb212" href="#pb212">212</a>]</span>unprincely
+          competition? Or was it to keep the old women from seeing the king?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At any rate, the whole kit of them had to leave. At most, they could
+          only mix with the crowd incognito, and afterwards might join in the
+          prearranged &ldquo;Long live the King!&rdquo; or somebody else, as the
+          case might be.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It is really remarkable that princes die. Seemingly the &ldquo;vivats&rdquo;
+          are of no avail.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The crowd was especially large, on account of the many majesties and
+          highnesses who had gathered about the tyrant.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Among the number was the Prince of Caramania, who had especial claims
+          upon the sympathy of the people, so all the newspapers said. One of
+          his ancestors had been a captain in the service of the state and had,
+          therefore, spilt his blood for the freedom of the Netherlands.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This blood, and perhaps the freedom as well, was newspaper arabesque.
+          It was certain, however, that the prince wore a green coat with gold
+          frogs; and upon his head he had a big plume. It was, therefore, quite
+          proper for the crowd to cry occasionally &ldquo;Long live the Prince
+          of Caramania!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Among the eminent gentlemen was a certain duke, who, by reason of his
+          virtues, had got himself banished from his country. The man was
+          thrifty and economical, though without neglecting himself.
+          Nevertheless, the rabble had dethroned him and sent him across the
+          border with a bushel of diamonds. Of these diamonds he was now to
+          display a few dozen in the shape of coat-buttons and the like. The
+          newspapers <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb213" href="#pb213">213</a>]</span>gave
+          the crowd their cue accordingly. They were to cry: &ldquo;Long live
+          the Duke with his diamonds!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Princess Erika was the niece of the king, and was to marry the
+          crown-prince of a great empire, which was indebted to the Netherlands
+          for its prominence. The newspapers gave the assurance that this empire
+          would pay off the national debt of the Netherlands if the people would
+          only put enough enthusiasm into a &ldquo;Long live Princess Erika!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The old Countess-palatine of Aetolia was descended directly from a
+          certain knight who treated his hostlers like princes. In this case it
+          was not inappropriate for a republican populace to ask for a
+          prolongation of her ladyship&rsquo;s life. The cry was: &ldquo;Long
+          live the Countess-palatine of Aetolia!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Grand-duke of Ysland was the handsome grandson of a shopman. His
+          merits would fill three columns of fine print. The man was a master of
+          the type-case himself, and by exerting himself could even set up his
+          own name. The newspapers said that having safely passed an ocean of
+          pitfalls, he had now perfected himself as the brother-in-law of a
+          demi-god. Therefore, whoever had the interest of his country at heart
+          could not afford to fail to bellow at the top of his voice: &ldquo;Long
+          live the Grand-duke of Ysland!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There were still more potentates and ladies of quality who had honored
+          Amsterdam with a visit. They had heard that the city was <i lang="fr">la
+          V&eacute;nise du Nord</i>, that it was <i lang="fr">tres interessant,
+          tres interessant</i>! etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And the Holland herrings! <i lang="fr">D&eacute;licieux!</i>
+          Unfortunately the Netherlanders didn&rsquo;t know how to cook them;
+          they must be baked. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb214" href="#pb214">214</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And the Holland school of painting! <i> Rambr&agrave;nn&mdash;magnifique!</i>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There were still other good things in Holland, as their highnesses
+          testified with patronizing kindness.
+        </p>
+        <p lang="fr">
+          &ldquo;Il parait qu&rsquo;un certain Wond&egrave;le a &eacute;crit des
+          choses, des choses&mdash;mais des choses&mdash;passablement bien!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And the dikes! And the Katwyk sluice&mdash;<i lang="fr">gigantesque</i>!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Whatever spare time they might have after making cheese and cooking
+          herrings, the Holland people liked to devote to fighting the elements.
+          After skating and racing this was the favorite recreation of the
+          nation.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I can assure the reader that the aristocratic party took their
+          departure thoroughly satisfied with our country. The only person who
+          received quite a different impression&mdash;but I will not anticipate
+          the feelings of our hero. Even a writer has his duties.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The first evening everything was to be illuminated. Two hundred and
+          fifty thousand candles were to proclaim the enthusiasm of the people.
+          Two hundred and fifty thousand fiery tongues were to cry: &ldquo;Hosanna!
+          Blessed be he who comes in the name of&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; In whose
+          name? Hosanna for whom? For what?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Well, that was a matter of indifference to the people. They knew that
+          there was something doing, that there was a crowd, and that was
+          enough. People are somewhat like children, who amuse themselves
+          immensely in the confusion of a &ldquo;moving,&rdquo; of a <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb215" href="#pb215">215</a>]</span>death, or
+          of anything that causes commotion and excitement.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had got permission to see the illumination. Unconsciously he
+          assumed that stupid expression which is obligatory on such occasions.
+          He listened to the conversation of those about him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I call illuminating! Nine candles for such a
+          big house!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Twelve!&rdquo; cried another.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, nine.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Twelve!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Nine!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Three&mdash;three&mdash;three&mdash;and three. Look there are
+          twelve, or I can&rsquo;t count.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, the three above don&rsquo;t count. That story is rented. I
+          know it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well&mdash;if you mean it that way. I only said that four times
+          three are twelve. What do you say, Hannes?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Hannes found the calculation correct.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How long will the candles burn?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Till about one o&rsquo;clock, I suppose.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe it!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, I do!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But I don&rsquo;t!&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Have you been in the Sukkelgracht?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, it isn&rsquo;t pretty there.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You think so? Prettier than here.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, no!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, it is!&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Look there; there&rsquo;s a verse.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, a verse. Can you read it?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb216" href="#pb216">216</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly! Let me see, what is it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I can read it, too.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s about &lsquo;illustrious blood&rsquo;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and &lsquo;our country,&rsquo; and &lsquo;dedicated to
+          honor and virtue.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And &lsquo;his illustrious blood&rsquo;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, there it stands&mdash;&lsquo;torn from the barbarians&rsquo;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That comes later. &lsquo;Illustrious blood&rsquo;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of Holland&rsquo;s hero&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Welcome, hero!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wonder if the king looks at the candles. Do you suppose he
+          reads such verses and copies them?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, he has his ministers for that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Or generals. He has seen or read about lots of nice things.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;As nice as here?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, of course!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, I do.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you know what I think? He likes to look at the lights too.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You think so?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, you don&rsquo;t believe that.<span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e4696" title="Not in source">&rdquo;</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t crowd so!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t help it. They&rsquo;re crowding me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The people are pushing and shoving as if they were crazy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Did you ever see the like? You know what I think? Kalver Street
+          ought to be as wide again as it is.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb217" href="#pb217">217</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, as wide again. The street&rsquo;s too narrow.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s why everybody&rsquo;s scroudging so.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was much truth in this. Pressure was high. People were mashed
+          and squeezed together. Those who, by reason of a lack of avoirdupois,
+          were less firmly attached to the ground, were lifted bodily. Walter
+          hung suspended in mid-air and looked over the heads of men much taller
+          than he.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you walking on stilts?&rdquo; asked a big fat woman, whose
+          hips had come into collision with Walter&rsquo;s knees. &ldquo;Well,
+          that&rsquo;s something.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The pressure was increasing. It seemed that the fat woman would soon
+          have Walter on her shoulder, like a gun; while Walter was thinking
+          that soon he would be roaming over the country like a knight. No one
+          was looking at the candles now. People were finding their amusement in
+          crowding and being crowded.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No, Kalver Street ought not to be widened. For, properly understood,
+          this crowding and pushing and shoving was the nicest part of the whole
+          business.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How tedious it would have been quietly to watch those two hundred and
+          fifty thousand candles from some comfortable position.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Our little man lay on the heads and shoulders of his brothers. Like
+          some aspirants to a throne, he threw himself upon the masses. But he
+          was beginning to feel generally uncomfortable. He wanted to hold on
+          fast to something, or somebody&mdash;to somebody&rsquo;s ears, or
+          nose. That, however, did not suit the masses. They didn&rsquo;t mind
+          being squeezed; but they didn&rsquo;t like to be held on to. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb218" href="#pb218">218</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Crash!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Don&rsquo;t let the reader be alarmed. Walter had not burst under the
+          strain; but the pressure of the crowd had broken in the double doors
+          of a caf&eacute;! The irruption was terrible. The way the crowd
+          streamed in might be compared to the flow of molten lava. Walter
+          described a <span class="corr" id="xd0e4729" title="Source: parobolic">
+          parabolic</span> curve and landed on a table, without suffering any
+          damage.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Walter Pieterse!&rdquo; cried the astonished party sitting
+          around the table.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Have you hurt yourself, Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No, he hadn&rsquo;t hurt himself; but he was rigid with surprise.
+          Firstly, over his ascent; secondly, over his a&euml;rial journey; then
+          over his descent among all kinds of glassware; and, finally&mdash;and
+          that was not the least surprising thing&mdash;he was surprised to find
+          himself all at once in the bosom of the Holsma family.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was Sietske who asked him if he was hurt.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All the glasses, both great and small, were broken; but Walter was
+          still in one piece. Uncle Sybrand helped him to his feet. It wasn&rsquo;t
+          easy, for the press was great. However, Walter&rsquo;s size
+          facilitated matters.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The proprietor couldn&rsquo;t reach the scene of action, but he was
+          able to make his voice heard to the effect that everything broken must
+          be paid for. From other tables came the noise of more breaking glass.
+          The man was desperate. He cursed kings and masses indiscriminately.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;One bottle of wine, three lemonades, six glasses!&rdquo; cried
+          Holsma, assuming the responsibility for Walter&rsquo;s unintentional
+          work of destruction. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb219" href="#pb219">219</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Uncle Sybrand was holding up the money to pay for everything.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, M&rsquo;neer, I&rsquo;m afraid to go home after this,&rdquo;
+          cried Walter. &ldquo;How can I pay for that? And my mother&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In the noise and jumble Holsma did not understand; but Sietske
+          understood.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh!&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Papa will pay for it all.
+          Besides, I have money; and William, too; and Hermann. Just be quiet.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter still did not understand. When, under the protection of the
+          Holsmas, he was safe on the outside again, and the entire party had
+          escaped the mob by taking a side street, he reiterated that he did
+          dare show his face to his mother and Stoffel.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It doesn&rsquo;t make any difference about the money,&rdquo;
+          said Holsma. &ldquo;I will attend to that. Why, boy, you&rsquo;re
+          scared half to death. You&rsquo;re shaking. Come along home with us
+          where you can rest a bit and quiet yourself.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The distance, however, proved too short to have the desired quieting
+          effect on Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My mother will be angry when I come home late.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Holsma told him that a messenger should be sent to his mother at once,
+          so that she would know where he was.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The doctor gave him a sedative and led him into a room adjoining that
+          in which the Holsma family were sitting. Walter was to walk up and
+          down the room till he felt better; but he soon got tired of this and
+          did the very thing that he was not to do; he sat down on a sofa and
+          fell asleep. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb220" href="#pb220">220</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Whether, in general, it is a good thing to keep in motion after a
+          fright&mdash;that I do not know. Walter, on the contrary, always felt
+          the need of sleep under such circumstances; and this remedy, with
+          which nature provided him, usually restored his mental equilibrium.
+          Perhaps, after all, it wasn&rsquo;t real sleep: he merely dreamed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again he was lifted up, higher and higher, borne by strong hands. A
+          man bit him in the hand. The fact was he had scratched his hand on a
+          refractory horsehair, which had become tired of acting as stuffing for
+          a sofa-pillow.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          An angry woman assailed him with abuse. Stupid? Not stupid? We, the
+          masses? She let him fall. But he fell in Sietske&rsquo;s lap; and
+          there wasn&rsquo;t a single sliver of glassware.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was happy&mdash;but the horsehair scratched him again. Then he
+          heard a voice. Was he still dreaming? Yes, dreaming again of soaring
+          and falling. There was Femke.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Of course there had to be something about her in his dream, and about
+          bleaching the clothes. Father Jansen was there, too, exhibiting to the
+          stars the particular garment that Femke had patched. Orion and the
+          Great Bear admired this specimen of her handiwork. Walter did not.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Did you do it yourself?&rdquo; he heard <span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e4780" title="Source: Sietska">Sietske</span> asking in the
+          next room. &ldquo;Or couldn&rsquo;t you get through the crowd?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, it was impossible to get through such a mob. I turned it
+          over to the man with the peddler&rsquo;s wagon.&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb221" href="#pb221">221</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          What was that? Walter sat up. Father Jansen was gone; Orion, too; and
+          the clouds, and the &ldquo;masses&rdquo;; but&mdash;that voice!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He heard it again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I know him very well&mdash;oh, so well! He&rsquo;s a good boy.&rdquo;
+          This he heard Femke say!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He jumped up and ran into the room where the Holsmas were. He saw a
+          triangular piece of a woman&rsquo;s dress disappear through the door;
+          then the door closed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He didn&rsquo;t have the courage&mdash;or was something else beside
+          courage necessary to ask, &ldquo;Is that Femke?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On his way home that evening Walter did not suffer in the least from
+          the sensation of being borne through the air; or from anything
+          similar. He was on the earth, very much on the earth. He felt lowly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If he had only seen that bit of Femke&rsquo;s dress somewhere else,
+          and not at the Holsmas&mdash;not in that swell family; not in the
+          company of Sietske, who had so much money in her &ldquo;savings-bank,&rdquo;
+          nor in the presence of the vain William, who was studying Latin!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was brave enough to feel ashamed of himself; and that&rsquo;s all I
+          can say in his favor.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Let us now look at things from the point of view of Juffrouw Pieterse.
+          That lady was in the clouds. She was hoping that the messenger who had
+          brought her news of Walter had not been able to find her flat at once.
+          The idea of someone from Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s asking for her through the
+          neighborhood was decidedly pleasant. The longer he might have had to
+          inquire for her the better!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course he was at the grocer&rsquo;s,&rdquo; she said. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb222" href="#pb222">222</a>]</span>&ldquo;Such
+          messengers never know where they have to go. Of course he told that
+          the &lsquo;young gentleman&rsquo; was staying at Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s!
+          And such a man always tattles; such people don&rsquo;t do anything but
+          tattle. But, as far as I&rsquo;m concerned, everybody can know it. I
+          only mean that such people like to tattle. But&mdash;say, Walter, how
+          did it happen that you went with the family? You&rsquo;re a nice
+          rascal. Stoffel, what do you say?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel made a serious face&mdash;as much as to say: &ldquo;Hm! I&rsquo;ll
+          have to think over it. He&rsquo;s been up to something.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I met the Holsma family in Kalver Street,&rdquo; Walter said.
+          He told the truth; he had met the family in Kalver Street. But why
+          didn&rsquo;t he tell anything about the extraordinary circumstances
+          under which he met them? Ah&mdash;there&rsquo;s the rub!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Your back is so sticky!&rdquo; complained Pietro, whose care it
+          was to look after the washing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The family rubbed, and felt, and smelt; and then they declared
+          unanimously that Walter&rsquo;s back had been guilty of absorbing all
+          kinds of sticky gases and liquids.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Really, it smells like lemon,&rdquo; said Trudie.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And like wine!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And it&rsquo;s just coated with sugar. Boy, where have you
+          been? Don&rsquo;t you have any sense of shame? To go to visit such
+          swell people with lemon and sugar on your back! It&rsquo;s a disgrace,
+          a disgrace.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There was such a crowd on the street.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That don&rsquo;t explain the wine on your back&mdash;nor the
+          lemon&mdash;nor the sugar. What say you, Trudie?&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb223" href="#pb223">223</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was complete unanimity. Timid, as usual, Walter didn&rsquo;t
+          have the courage to tell everything. Nor would this have done any
+          good. The understanding of the Pieterse family was like a rusty lock
+          that no key will open. Walter knew this, and remembering former sad
+          experiences, allowed the storm to rage above his head. Unfortunately
+          he, too, in a sense, was rusty. His nobility of character had
+          suffered; he had been guilty of cowardice.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He felt it. No minister could pray it away. Not even God himself could
+          revoke it. Everyone must act according to his conviction, Mevrouw
+          Holsma had said. He had not done this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A dog would have kissed the hem of Femke&rsquo;s garment, meeting her
+          after such a long separation. For it was she. Certainly it was Femke&mdash;or&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, he was hunting for or&rsquo;s!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Could it have been somebody else? It must have been somebody else. How
+          could Femke be at Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No, no, it was she! Didn&rsquo;t she say that she knew me? Didn&rsquo;t
+          she speak with the same voice that I heard when she called me a dear
+          boy and gave me the kiss at the bridge?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She didn&rsquo;t know then what a coward I am! She wouldn&rsquo;t deny
+          me and betray me. She would say to everybody: That is Walter, my
+          little friend that I kissed that time, because he was so brave in
+          fighting off those boys!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And I? Oh, help me God!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No, God has nothing to do with it. I am a coward. I can&rsquo;t live
+          this way. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb224" href="#pb224">224</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He thought of suicide; and in this mood he spent that Thursday night.
+          He arose Friday morning with the firm determination to put an end to
+          his unworthy existence.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Fortunately, just after breakfast he was put to work on a job that is
+          calculated to reconcile one with life.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He had been tried and convicted, the verdict being unanimous. The
+          penalty was that he should wash his jacket till it was clean. He
+          entered upon the task with such enthusiasm that in an hour he was
+          running to his mother crying triumphantly:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Look, mother! You can&rsquo;t see a trace of it now!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This little conquest dispelled all the clouds that had darkened his
+          life.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There are plenty of people who would gladly fall into a barrel of
+          lemonade if they only understood the salutary effects of cleaning a
+          coat.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The poor unfortunate who has never washed his own clothes does not
+          know what life is.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I will ask her pardon, thought Walter; and he pictured it all to
+          himself, wondering whether it would do for him to fall at her feet at
+          Holsma&rsquo;s, in the presence of the one who had delivered the
+          message. Finally, however, he quieted himself with the thought that
+          Femke would probably not be at the doctor&rsquo;s very long. He hoped
+          to be able then to settle the matter quietly, when only the two
+          concerned were present. This was not courageous, to be sure; but his
+          punishment was already on the way. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb225"
+          href="#pb225">225</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch26" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXVI
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The events of an eventful Friday were at an end, as it seemed; and
+          Walter prepared to climb into the narrow bedstead, which he shared
+          with his brother Laurens. He was now in a tranquil frame of mind. He
+          didn&rsquo;t even have any desire to romp with Laurens, who, without
+          laying claim to geometrical knowledge, usually managed to find the
+          diagonal of the bed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was Walter&rsquo;s intention to think over recent events again. He
+          wished to busy himself with others; he was tired of himself&mdash;at
+          least he thought so for a moment.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was a prince, who distributed money among the people. Oh, if I
+          were only a prince!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That wasn&rsquo;t a bad thought. Under the same circumstances, most
+          people would have thought: Oh, if I could only have got some of the
+          money!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The countess-palatine from&mdash;where from? Well it makes no
+          difference. She was in the museum and the papers said she was
+          gracious, very gracious.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I would do it too, thought Walter, if I were a countess-palatine. What
+          sort of a profession is that?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The king had given audiences&mdash;and a dinner&mdash;and had said&mdash;well,
+          the usual things. But for Walter it <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb226" href="#pb226">226</a>]</span>was new and interesting. The
+          welfare of the city seemed to lie heavily on his majesty&rsquo;s
+          heart. It lay heavily on Walter&rsquo;s heart, too; but that did not
+          prevent Walter from admiring this peculiarity of the king. In Africa
+          he would do the same thing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No, away with Africa!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He threw off his left stocking so violently that it curled around the
+          leg of the chair like a dying earthworm.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          What strange things he had heard of Princess Erika! It was said that
+          she was to have married a grand-duke, but rejected him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The middle classes were delighted with this news; though not knowing
+          but that it might merely have been stubbornness on the part of the
+          princess.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She was of such a strange nature that she did not know how to behave
+          herself in her high position.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter slipped off his other stocking, finding fault with the princess
+          for disregarding the usual customs and conventions. Hm! He wondered if
+          she would like to change places with him, and let him be Prince Erich&mdash;and
+          she&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He wondered if she too wore an ugly nightcap. But&mdash;no! Princesses
+          would wear caps of diamonds.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Princess Erika!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter blew out the light&mdash;no, he was on the point of blowing it
+          out. He had selected one of the triangles that Laurens had described
+          in the bed, when suddenly he became aware of a great tumult in the
+          Pieterse home.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, somebody had rung violently three or four times and was still
+          banging at the door. Fire? <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb227"
+          href="#pb227">227</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Hm! Could it be Princess Erika, he thought, who was coming to change
+          places with him?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Alas, it was only Juffrouw Laps; and she did not come to exchange.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Well, what did she want then, so late in the evening?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter pulled himself together and listened.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The compartment where Walter and Laurens slept was a boxed-up
+          arrangement over the sitting-room. Two of their sisters shared the
+          space with them. From considerations of modesty, therefore, the boys
+          always had to get sleepy a quarter of an hour before the young ladies.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The writer is unable to say how much oxygen four <span class="corr"
+          id="xd0e4915"
+          title="Source: family, the female part, of course, was still in the">young
+          people need during eight hours without suf</span>focating; but anyway
+          there wasn&rsquo;t much room in this little nook.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In another closet-affair there was a similar division, and here, too,
+          the hour for retiring was determined by similar laws of modesty.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reader will now understand why a part of the family, the female
+          part of course, was still in the sitting-room when Walter imagined
+          that Princess Erika had come to exchange places with him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps, who had rushed up the steps like a crazy woman, burst
+          into the room weeping and moaning and sobbing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The usual cries of, &ldquo;What on earth is the matter?&rdquo; &ldquo;Lord
+          &rsquo;a&rsquo; mercy&mdash;what has happened?&rdquo; were
+          forthcoming. Walter noticed, too, that the customary glass of water
+          was offered and drunk, and that proper efforts were being made to get
+          the unhappy one to &ldquo;calm herself.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb228" href="#pb228">228</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps began her story with the positive assurance that it was
+          impossible for her to utter a word.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It seemed, therefore, that the affair was something important. Walter
+          pulled on one of his stockings and prepared to listen.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I swear, Juffrouw Pieterse, by the omnipotent God, that I&rsquo;m
+          so frightened and excited that I can&rsquo;t talk.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Goodness!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where are your children? In bed? Not all of them, I hope.
+          Really, I can&rsquo;t speak. Give me another glass of water, Trudie.
+          Listen, how my teeth are chattering. That comes from fright, doesn&rsquo;t
+          it? I&rsquo;m in a tremble all over. Thank you, Trudie. Where&rsquo;s&mdash;Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He&rsquo;s undressing,&rdquo; said Juffrouw Pieterse. &ldquo;He
+          goes to bed before me and Pietro. Mina makes so much noise, you know;
+          and Trudie must stay with the boys to keep them from fighting. That&rsquo;s
+          why I sleep with Pietro, you see. Stoffel undresses himself, and then
+          he draws the curtain when he hears us on the steps. But why&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How that concerns me, you mean? To be sure. I&rsquo;m just
+          beside myself from fright! And is&mdash;Laurens in bed too?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course! A long time already. He has to go to the
+          printing-house early.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All in bed! And I&mdash;I run through the streets, wretched,
+          crazy, and don&rsquo;t know what to do. Is everybody in bed?&mdash;everybody?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But what has happened?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb229" href="#pb229">229</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to tell you, Juffrouw Pieterse. Oh, if you only
+          knew how frightened I am!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Consideration of acoustics now led Walter to put on his other
+          stocking.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You know, Juffrouw Pieterse, that of late so much stealing has
+          been going on.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And burglary and murder! And the police can&rsquo;t catch
+          anybody. You know the old woman and the servant-girl who were murdered
+          in Lommer Street.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But three are already behind the bars for it. What more do you
+          want?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all right; the murderers are running around
+          scot-free. They&rsquo;ve locked up three fellows just to keep the
+          people from thinking too much. They don&rsquo;t want anybody to ask,
+          &lsquo;What are the police for?&rsquo; You see what I mean? I tell you
+          that such a low-down rascal, who commits a murder and steals lots of
+          money, cannot hide his bloody clothes; nor the money, either. He&rsquo;s
+          not used to having so much money. All the neighbors know his coat and
+          breeches; and such a man hasn&rsquo;t any trunk where he can hide his
+          things. He doesn&rsquo;t know how to manage with drafts and notes; and
+          he don&rsquo;t know enough to get away to a foreign country. As for
+          friends to help him get rid of the stolen things, he hasn&rsquo;t any.
+          I tell you, Juffrouw Pieterse, a murder or a robbery, when they don&rsquo;t
+          catch the murderer right away&mdash;then some respectable person has
+          done it, who has more clothes and boxes and presses and linen&mdash;and
+          he has friends among bankers. A common fellow would stick a hundred
+          thousand florins in the bread-box, and the <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb230" href="#pb230">230</a>]</span>children would find it when
+          they went to slip a slice of bread and butter. What do you say,
+          Trudie?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Trudie was not versed in criminal statistics and had never reflected
+          on the matter. At least Walter heard no answer. Curiosity compelled
+          him to draw on his trousers.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But,&rdquo; he heard his mother saying again, &ldquo;what has
+          happened to you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What has happened? I am beside myself. Don&rsquo;t you see how
+          I&rsquo;m trembling? The city is full of murderers!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My goodness! How can I help it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t. But I am beside myself, and I want to ask your
+          advice. Do they all go to bed so early?&mdash;Stoffel&mdash;and
+          Laurens&mdash;all of them? Look, how I&rsquo;m shaking. Do you suppose
+          I dare go back to my room?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why not? Do you think you&rsquo;re going to be murdered?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes. I do think it! The murderers of that old woman and of the
+          servant-girl are still on the war-path. Yesterday at the illumination
+          how many watches did they steal? And the police&mdash;what do they do?
+          Nothing, nothing! Yes, they watch you to see if you beat a rug in the
+          morning after ten o&rsquo;clock. That&rsquo;s what the police do. They
+          don&rsquo;t bother murderers.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What do you know about the murderers? It&rsquo;s your duty to
+          report them if you know them.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter put on his vest and wrapped his muffler around his neck.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What I know about them! They are besieging <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb231" href="#pb231">231</a>]</span>me in my own house. Isn&rsquo;t
+          that pretty rough? I went out at noon to see the boat race on the
+          Amstel; but there was nothing to see, because there was no wind. And
+          such a crowd! All the kings were there, and the visiting princes and
+          princesses, you know; and everybody stared at the carriages, and I did
+          too. Not that I care anything about a king. Goodness, no! For he is
+          only a worm in God&rsquo;s hand, and when the Master doesn&rsquo;t aid
+          him&mdash;all is vanity, vanity. Dust and ashes&mdash;that&rsquo;s
+          all. But I looked at the carriages, you know, and at the horses, and
+          at the staring crowd. I thought to myself, I will fry the potatoes
+          when I go home. They had been left over from dinner; and when there
+          are any potatoes left over, you know, I always fry them for supper.
+          There was a big crowd, and all were mad because there was no wind; for
+          people are foolish about pleasure and never think of the Master.
+          Worldly, worldly, they were&mdash;and the princes and princesses. I
+          thought, well, it&rsquo;s no wonder that there&rsquo;s so much robbery
+          and murder; for they try God&rsquo;s patience. I thought, God will
+          punish you; He&rsquo;s only abiding His time. He always does it,
+          Juffrouw Pieterse! A lady&mdash;the creature had red pimples on her
+          face, and was older than you&mdash;what do you suppose she had on her
+          head? A turban! She rode in a carriage with four horses. What do you
+          think of that? She was playing with a fan; and, when a prince rode up
+          to her carriage, she stuck out her hand and let the fan go up and down
+          three times. And the prince did that way three times. Were they crazy,
+          or not? What will the Master say to that? If He only doesn&rsquo;t
+          send a pestilence on us!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb232"
+          href="#pb232">232</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, but the murderers&mdash;what did they do to you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, certainly&mdash;what they did? I am going to tell you. I&rsquo;m
+          still trembling. I had sliced my potatoes, put them on a saucer and
+          set them away in the cupboard. Then I thought, I will fry them when I
+          come home; for I didn&rsquo;t expect to stay long in the crowd, for I
+          have been saved by grace and don&rsquo;t care for worldly things&mdash;ah,
+          dear Juffrouw Pieterse, you must call Stoffel, so he can hear what has
+          happened.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel was already on his way down; and Walter was glad of it. Walter
+          had heard the noise Stoffel was making putting on his clothes in the
+          adjoining booth, and upon this he builded hopes that he too might be
+          allowed to go down, where he could hear the exciting story better than
+          was possible through the cracks in the floor. In the meantime he had
+          completely dressed himself. The noises below told him of Stoffel&rsquo;s
+          arrival in the sitting-room. He heard the usual greetings and Juffrouw
+          Laps&rsquo;s solemn assurance that she was still in such a tremble
+          that she couldn&rsquo;t say a word. Then he heard her ask immediately
+          where Laurens was.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Laurens? Well, he was asleep.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That youth&rsquo;s absence seemed to trouble the visitor. She couldn&rsquo;t
+          proceed. Was it really necessary for Laurens to be present?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What do you say, Stoffel? Isn&rsquo;t the city full of thieves
+          and murderers?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel drew in his upper lip and tried to make the lower one touch
+          his nose. Let the reader try the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb233"
+          href="#pb233">233</a>]</span>same; then he will know how Stoffel
+          answered, and what his answer meant.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps pretended to believe that he had said &ldquo;yes.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see, Stoffel says so too! The city is full of
+          thieves and murderers, and&mdash;a respectable person is afraid to go
+          to bed alone any more. It&rsquo;s just that way.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But&mdash;Juffrouw!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The police? Nonsense! What good do the police do, when people
+          don&rsquo;t believe in God? That&rsquo;s the truth. Whoever doesn&rsquo;t
+          do that is lost. Human help&mdash;I cannot understand at all why
+          Laurens goes to bed so early. You surely know that so much sleep isn&rsquo;t
+          good for anybody. What does the Bible say? Watch and pray! But&mdash;everyone
+          according to his notion. I swear before God that I don&rsquo;t dare to
+          go home alone and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s curiosity was at high tension. In order to hear better
+          he was leaning over, supporting himself with the chair. The point of
+          support was unsteady. The chair slipped and rattled across the floor,
+          crashing into another piece of furniture.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Heaven and earth! What are they up to now,&rdquo; groaned the
+          mother. &ldquo;Laurens, is that you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter peeped in, &ldquo;It was me.&rdquo; The result was that he was
+          soon in the midst of the interesting conversation that he had been
+          trying to hear from above.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His entrance took place under unfavorable circumstances. He was blamed
+          for not having been undressed. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb234"
+          href="#pb234">234</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you always put on your nightcap before you undress?&rdquo;
+          cried the mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The boy had actually forgotten to take off his nightcap. He was so
+          ashamed that he felt he would like to fall through the floor. He would
+          rather have neglected anything else.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And&mdash;what have you there?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Alas, our hero looked more ridiculous than anyone could look by simply
+          putting on a nightcap. He had armed himself with an old rusty knife
+          that his father had used in prehistoric times for cutting leather!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          During the whole of the Laps recital, which progressed so slowly, he
+          had thought and hoped and intended&mdash;yes, he heard something that
+          sounded like, &ldquo;Where is Walter?&rdquo; The speaker really did
+          not say it&mdash;no, on the contrary, those were the very words she
+          wished to avoid&mdash;still, he thought he heard her say them. On this
+          Friday he had acted mean and cowardly; but he was still Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Murderers? Thieves? A lady in danger? What other answer could there be
+          but: &ldquo;I am here, I, Walter!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, fate, why did you put that sword in his hand and let him forget to
+          remove that nightcap? Why didn&rsquo;t you divide these two
+          absurdities between Stoffel and Walter! Or why couldn&rsquo;t you put
+          that feathery diadem on the head of the sleeping Laurens? It would
+          have been all the same to him how he looked in his sleep.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was in a rage. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb235"
+          href="#pb235">235</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And I am, too. Towards Femke his chivalry had remained in the
+          background; and now it must burst forth at a doubtful call from
+          Juffrouw Laps!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In his anger he threw the weapon down violently and allowed it to
+          rebound across the room. He slapped the nightcap on the table.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No one would have thought that the little man could be so vehement.
+          His mother, with her usual solicitousness, inquired into the condition
+          of his mind, asking if he was only cracked, or downright crazy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I tell you,&rdquo; said the visitor, &ldquo;you ought not to
+          worry that child so much.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Go to bed at once!&rdquo; cried the mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why can&rsquo;t you let the child stay here? But&mdash;oh, yes!
+          I was going to tell you about my potatoes.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter stayed. For this privilege he was indebted to the general
+          curiosity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just imagine, when I came home about half past ten o&rsquo;clock&mdash;I
+          couldn&rsquo;t get away earlier on account of the crush, you know. Don&rsquo;t
+          you know, I don&rsquo;t care for these big occasions. Well, when I got
+          home&mdash;the city is full of thieves, murderers, and that must not
+          be forgotten&mdash;well, my potatoes were&mdash;what do you think my
+          potatoes were? They were&mdash;gone!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Gone?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Gone!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All gone?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All gone!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Your potatoes&mdash;gone?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My potatoes&mdash;all completely gone!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb236"
+          href="#pb236">236</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I tell you those thieves and murderers did it. Who else could
+          have done it? Thieves and murderers in my house! And I wanted to ask
+          you&mdash;for I&rsquo;m afraid in my room&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s eyes fairly shone.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wanted to ask, if perhaps&mdash;your son Stoffel&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel&rsquo;s face was a study, a curiosity. If the said thieves and
+          murderers could have seen it they would have been greatly pleased, for
+          it bore evidence of Stoffel&rsquo;s intention to leave them
+          undisturbed in their work.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Juffrouw,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;haven&rsquo;t you a cat
+          in your room?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A cat? A cat to fight murderers with!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, Juffrouw, not to fight murderers; but a cat that might have
+          eaten the potatoes.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know anything about a cat. I only know that the
+          city is full of low-down people when so many murders are committed and
+          no one tries to catch the murderers. Not that I am anxious about my
+          life&mdash;no, not at all. When the Master calls me I shall say,
+          &lsquo;Let thy daughter go in peace; my eyes have seen thy glory.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, woman, why didn&rsquo;t you look in your closet, and under
+          the bed?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t want to do that, Juffrouw Pieterse! The Lord
+          will take care of me&mdash;but one must not try the Lord&rsquo;s
+          patience. I would not go in the closet, or look under the bed&mdash;not
+          for everything in the world! For of course he&rsquo;s there, and that&rsquo;s
+          why I wanted to ask if <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb237"
+          href="#pb237">237</a>]</span>your son&mdash;Stoffel, or, if Stoffel
+          doesn&rsquo;t want to, if perhaps your son&mdash;Laurens, or&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Juffrouw, why didn&rsquo;t you call the neighbors?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus spoke Stoffel.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The neighbors? Well, I guess they know about it. The man who
+          lives under me is afraid of a poodle-dog, not to mention a murderer.
+          There&rsquo;s a man living next to me; but, you know, he is&mdash;what
+          shall I say&mdash;he is a sort of bachelor, and I don&rsquo;t want to
+          get talked about. You know a woman must always think of her
+          reputation, and not get mixed up in gossip.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It did not occur to anyone to ask what sort of a creature Stoffel was.
+          Was he a bachelor? Or did his position as a teacher protect him
+          against any worldly suspicion?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And, besides,&rdquo; continued the seductive Laps, &ldquo;do
+          you think all men have courage? No! They&rsquo;re as afraid of a thief
+          as they are of death. Last week an insolent beggar was on the steps,
+          and the fellow wouldn&rsquo;t leave. Do you think the men did anything
+          to him? Scared to death! But, I tell you, I got hold of him in a hurry
+          and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She had gone too far, and she saw it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, I would have done that if I hadn&rsquo;t been a woman;
+          for a <span class="corr" id="xd0e5104" title="Source: women"> woman</span>
+          must never use violence. It isn&rsquo;t becoming. What do you say,
+          Trudie? I ran and shut my door. Wasn&rsquo;t that right? No, none of
+          the men-folk has any courage!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          None of the men-folk! Walter felt insulted. He was swelling with
+          suppressed courage; he was eager <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb238"
+          href="#pb238">238</a>]</span>for a fray. At least, he was eager to
+          show that he was an exception to Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s general
+          indictment. Of course Juffrouw Laps noticed this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, if Stoffel doesn&rsquo;t want to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;To tell the truth, I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And if Laurens is already asleep&mdash;and if&mdash;if no one
+          else will&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She arose.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Then I suppose I must, relying upon God, go alone. But it&rsquo;s
+          horrible for a woman to be entirely alone!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She looked at them all in turn, all except the one she was talking to.
+          Walter felt that he was being forgotten, or overlooked. This only
+          increased his latent courage and made him burn with a desire to be
+          numbered with the knighthood of the house.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, if there&rsquo;s nobody here who&rsquo;s not afraid&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not afraid!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All but Juffrouw Laps were surprised. She was a good psychologist, and
+          had not expected anything else. It was her part, however, to pretend
+          to be as much surprised as any of the rest.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You, Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Boy, are you crazy? You?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, I. I&rsquo;m not afraid; not if there were ten in the
+          closet and a hundred under the bed!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A little Luther! But with a difference. Luther had a God in whom he
+          felt he could trust&mdash;reinforced by a few grand-dukes. Walter,
+          without any grand-dukes, was ready to enter the field against a God
+          who <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb239" href="#pb239">239</a>]</span>was
+          allowing any number of murderers to take shelter under the roof and
+          bed of Juffrouw Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Boy!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll risk it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Let him go, Juffrouw Pieterse. You understand&mdash;it&rsquo;s
+          company for me to have such a child with me. Then I&rsquo;m not
+          frightened so badly, if a murderer is in the closet. Nobody wants to
+          be entirely alone. Isn&rsquo;t that so?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps gained her point: Walter was permitted to go with her.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was principally their vanity that caused the Pieterses to consent
+          so readily to Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s request and allow her to take
+          Walter away to act as her castellan. Not one of them felt that it was
+          a good thing for Walter to go with the Juffrouw; but they were all
+          proud of his courage. The story would get noised abroad, and people
+          would pass it on to their friends. Juffrouw Pieterse would see to it
+          that the people knew it was &ldquo;the same young gentlemen, you know,
+          that went home with Dr. Holsma.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, and then people would say: &ldquo;There&rsquo;s something in
+          those Pieterse children.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mothers like to hear such things.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With his package under his arm Walter marched away with Juffrouw Laps
+          to do battle for that pious lady. That prehistoric weapon he left
+          behind, on her assuring him that she had a well-filled store of
+          weapons and ammunition enough to kill all the murderers that he would
+          have occasion to contend with. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb240"
+          href="#pb240">240</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch27" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXVII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Walter shuddered as he crossed Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s threshold. He
+          reflected, and wondered how he could have entered upon this knightly
+          expedition without considering certain details connected with it and
+          inseparable from it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The first thing she offered him, of course, was the fried potatoes,
+          that dainty dish which the murderers had greedily made <span
+          class="corr" id="xd0e5165" title="Source: way">away</span> with!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was beginning to feel that the game wasn&rsquo;t worth the
+          candle. The adventure didn&rsquo;t offer sufficient outlet for his
+          chivalry. In fact, he thought something other than chivalry was
+          necessary to face single-handed and alone those fried potatoes and
+          Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s persistent attentions.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Make yourself at home and eat all you want. Don&rsquo;t be a
+          bit embarrassed. Or would you rather take off your coat first? You
+          know, you&rsquo;re to stay all night with me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter preferred to keep on his coat for the present.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <span class="corr" id="xd0e5175" title="Not in source"> &ldquo;</span>And
+          I have a dram for you, too, my boy&mdash;something extra. It&rsquo;s
+          from Fockink&rsquo;s. You know where he has his distillery, there in
+          that narrow street. You must never pass along there. Bad women live in
+          that street. They stand at the doors and windows, don&rsquo;t you
+          know; and that isn&rsquo;t good for a bachelor like you.&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb241" href="#pb241">241</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter, the &ldquo;bachelor,&rdquo; looked surprised. He was abashed;
+          though he was not displeased. This promotion was more flattering than
+          going into &ldquo;business.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Still, he was embarrassed. Juffrouw Laps found it desirable,
+          therefore, to continue along this line.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, Walter, you&rsquo;re a bachelor. Don&rsquo;t you
+          know that? It&rsquo;s only because at home they treat you like a
+          child. I tell you, you&rsquo;re a bachelor, just as much so as anybody
+          else. Do you think I like Stoffel as well as I do you? No, no, no! Not
+          a bit of it! I like you lots better. Don&rsquo;t you want a pipe to
+          smoke? You are man enough for that. Of course you are; and why shouldn&rsquo;t
+          you smoke a pipe like other men?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Men, men!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter answered that he couldn&rsquo;t smoke yet. It cost him an
+          effort to make the admission; but his first attempt to equal Stoffel
+          in that respect had turned out badly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So? You don&rsquo;t smoke?&rdquo; She omitted his &ldquo;yet.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, it&rsquo;s a good thing. It&rsquo;s a stupid habit in
+          men. And forever the terrible smoke! I know other young gentlemen who
+          do not smoke. For instance, there is Piet Hammel. He&rsquo;s as old as
+          you, but a little smaller. He&rsquo;s going to marry a cousin of mine;
+          and he doesn&rsquo;t smoke either.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter felt better now. He was interested.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, they&rsquo;re going to get married about&mdash;well, I don&rsquo;t
+          know exactly when. But they intend to marry. I tell you, you are a
+          real bachelor; and it&rsquo;s awfully stupid of them still to treat
+          you like a child. I&rsquo;ve told your mother so a hundred times.
+          There on the street <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb242" href="#pb242">242</a>]</span>just
+          now, when we were together&mdash;I&rsquo;m a delicate woman; but do
+          you think I was afraid?&mdash;with you with me? Not a bit. Not a trace
+          of fear. And why? Because everybody could see that I had a man with
+          me. I ought to have taken hold of your arm&mdash;you&rsquo;re almost
+          taller than I am&mdash;but I didn&rsquo;t do it because you had a
+          package. And then&mdash;the people talk so much! The watchman might
+          have seen it, and he would have spread the news broadcast that I had
+          been seen at night with a gentleman.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          With a gentleman! Walter was listening.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A woman must always think of her reputation. But we&rsquo;re
+          here at home now, and that&rsquo;s very different, entirely different.
+          I know that of course you wouldn&rsquo;t tell anything bad about me.
+          Whoever tells anything bad on a woman isn&rsquo;t a true gentleman.
+          You know that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, Walter knew it. He understood Juffrouw Laps better than she
+          imagined.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What I wanted to say was, you must never go through that
+          street. So long as you were a child, it made no difference. But now!
+          Let me fill your glass for you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter drank.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          O Fancy, my muse, where art thou?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How do you like it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter owned that the liquor had a pleasant taste.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Satan&rsquo;s handmaid filled the glasses again. They were &ldquo;so
+          small,&rdquo; really &ldquo;mere thimbles.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you must eat something, dearest. Oh, I have always thought
+          so much of you! It&rsquo;s good for you to have a little dram like
+          that.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb243" href="#pb243">243</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter began to eat.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just take off your coat; there&rsquo;s nobody here but us.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Quite so. Walter did take off his coat.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And I&rsquo;m going to sit close to you, for you are a dear,
+          good, sweet boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Fancy, Fancy!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The liquor was strong, and Walter drank more of it than was good for
+          him. He lost some of his modesty, and hardly knew what he was saying
+          to the talkative Juffrouw, as she asked questions from time to time.
+          She was not quite satisfied with the way things were going, but hoped
+          for the best.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Occasionally Walter found time to wonder why he was there, what the
+          purpose of the enforced visit might be. His hostess seemed to have
+          forgotten all about those thieves and murderers; and when he reminded
+          her of them, she showed a spirit of valor that did him good. For he
+          and his valor were undone.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will do them! Do you think I&rsquo;m afraid of such a fellow?
+          Well, I guess not. Not afraid of three of them. I wouldn&rsquo;t be
+          afraid of ten of them&mdash;I&rsquo;m not afraid of the whole world. I
+          will do them.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All the better, thought Walter; for then he wouldn&rsquo;t have to
+          &ldquo;do&rdquo; them.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          They now heard something rustling around in the closet, or else they
+          imagined they heard something. Walter was frightened. He was a perfect
+          child again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Stay here, and I will see what it is,&rdquo; cried the
+          Juffrouw. &ldquo;Do you think I would let them beat you, or stab you,
+          or murder you, my boy! Never! Whoever <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb244" href="#pb244">244</a>]</span>touches you will have to walk
+          over me. But I will give them all they need.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She went out, taking the light with her, to see what was the matter&mdash;if
+          anything. She was careful to leave Walter in the dark long enough for
+          him to wish for her return. The tables were being turned. A little
+          more, and the boy would seek protection under her apron.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, Juffrouw&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will let you call me Christine. That&rsquo;s my name.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This was too much for Walter. He preferred to avoid addressing her
+          directly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But hadn&rsquo;t I better go home now?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Not at all. You don&rsquo;t want to leave me, do you? You know
+          your mother is in bed asleep now. Besides, it was understood that you
+          were to spend the night here and take breakfast with me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Breakfast! The boy hadn&rsquo;t been doing anything else for an hour.
+          Was that to continue till morning?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you what! Just undress yourself; and you needn&rsquo;t
+          be a bit ashamed before me. I will make down a pallet for you there in
+          the corner. When I&rsquo;m here alone&mdash;just a woman&mdash;with
+          all the thieves and robbers&mdash;oh, it&rsquo;s so horrible!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter did not dare to say no; nor did he dare to do what was proposed
+          so enticingly. He hesitated.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She talked sweetly and persuaded him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He began to&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The child was as if hypnotized.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          O Fancy, Fancy! Where art thou? <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb245"
+          href="#pb245">245</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch28" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXVIII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          It will be remembered that on this significant Friday a boat-race had
+          been arranged for the amusement of the visiting princes and
+          princesses. It had to be called off on account of a disinclination on
+          the side of the wind to fill its part of the program, or rather, to
+          fill the sails. For it was to have been a &ldquo;sail.&rdquo; Rowing
+          was not in style then; it was not considered dignified and manly.
+          Besides, the boats were not built to be propelled in this way.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The boat-race had been canceled; but the crowd remained, and continued
+          to discharge its enthusiasm for royalty till a late hour. It was a
+          great day; and the populace perspired and shouted and howled.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was so hot that kings and princesses perspired like ordinary
+          mortals. They flourished fans indolently. At that time there was a
+          special kind of fan: &ldquo;<span lang="fr">joujoux de Normandie</span>.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was observed that the old countess-palatine manipulated her fan
+          more elegantly than anyone else. No doubt it was through this &ldquo;gentle
+          art&rdquo; that she exerted her greatest influence on humanity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Gradually the carriages of the distinguished guests disappeared, and
+          the knightly horsemen tired of the saddle. The day drew to a close.
+          The populace pushed and crowded and sang and hurrahed and drank.
+          Fireworks were discharged, to express, so <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb246" href="#pb246">246</a>]</span>the newspapers said, the
+          inexpressible love of the people for princes and princesses.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, those firecrackers, and the danger in them! Quick, quick&mdash;throw
+          it&mdash;a second longer and it will burst in your hand&mdash;hurrah!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was magnificent&mdash;the danger and thrilling anxiety. There was a
+          tradition that somebody had once held a firecracker in his hand too
+          long and had been badly hurt by it. This traditional &ldquo;somebody&rdquo;
+          was now inspiring the revelers with fresh enthusiasm.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          So it was on that evening, before the city authorities had prohibited
+          the use of fireworks. After the houses had been covered with slate, it
+          was thought that there was too much danger of fire in firecrackers,
+          but on that evening, when the houses still had thatch roofs, the
+          dangerous pleasure of Amsterdam youth was unrestrained.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          And the other dangerous pleasures! How many lasses went home with
+          their skirts singed, some of them hardly getting home at all.
+          Interesting adventures! And a boy&mdash;&ldquo;those boys have to have
+          their noses in everything&rdquo;&mdash;yes, a youth came very near
+          getting a load in his face. Thrilling delight!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The crowd was now in the street where Juffrouw Laps resided. The
+          reader will recall that Walter was spending the night with her.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Boom! went a gun, or a cannon-cracker; and Walter awoke just as his
+          affectionate hostess and religious adviser was going to give him a
+          kiss.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Juffrouw Laps had burned her sinful lips. &ldquo;Lord have mercy on
+          us, what is that!&rdquo; she cried. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb247" href="#pb247">247</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Both ran to the open window. Ordinarily a respectable Hollandish girl
+          never leaves her window open at night; but the extreme heat of the
+          evening must be urged in Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s favor.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was clear to them at once that they had not been fired upon by
+          those &ldquo;murderers,&rdquo; for nobody paid any attention to them
+          or showed any interest in them. Other windows were open, as well; and
+          on all sides people were looking out. Right and left a cannonade of
+          firecrackers was going on.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In the interest of privacy Juffrouw Laps took the precaution to blow
+          out the light as quickly as possible. Another might have neglected
+          this.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter looked down on it all with the delight of a child. He forgot
+          the insistent kindness of his hostess; he thought of nothing but the
+          crowd below and their antics. The noise and tumult sobered him; and it
+          even had a quieting effect on Juffrouw Laps.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How foolish the people are. They push one another hither and
+          thither and don&rsquo;t know themselves why they do it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Click, click!&rdquo; answered an enthusiast with a gun. He was
+          in the midst of a bevy of girls, who scattered in an uproar.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;They&rsquo;re all drunk,&rdquo; said Juffrouw Laps. &ldquo;I
+          wish they would go home. I&rsquo;m tired&mdash;and it&rsquo;s two o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just a little more!&rdquo; begged Walter. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not
+          tired&mdash;not a bit!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid you&rsquo;re catching cold. For you know, the
+          night air after a hot day&mdash;well, put on your cap, dearest. I
+          wouldn&rsquo;t have this night air to give you <span class="pagenum">
+          [<a id="pb248" href="#pb248">248</a>]</span>a cold for everything in
+          the world. Look, there goes another one.&rdquo; It was a Roman candle.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem" lang="fr">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Amour &agrave; la plus belle.
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            Honneur au plus vaillant&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t they sing Dutch? Do you understand any of it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter knew something of the handsome Dunois, who slew so many Turks
+          and received as his reward the daughter of the duke, his master. How
+          would a knight be rewarded after he had already received one reward?
+          Or how would it have been if the master had had no daughter?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          While Walter was asking his lady friend such difficult questions as
+          these, they heard an outburst of cries and abuse and oaths below. A
+          reaction had set in. It was a perfect riot. The crowd swayed first one
+          way then the other, according as one party or the other was in the
+          ascendency.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Non-combatants were pushing their way out; combatants, themselves
+          crowded, were crowding others. Cries of &ldquo;help&rdquo; were heard.
+          Mothers, with babies in their arms, attested their fear; women in
+          delicate health made their condition known.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The press was worst on the corner, whither the revelers were streaming
+          from three directions. Here was located a popular restaurant and
+          drinking-place, which was probably the destination of the stream
+          coming from Amstel Street. The second stream, coming from Utrecht
+          Street, evidently had the same objective in view. The strongest
+          current was flowing <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb249" href="#pb249">249</a>]</span>from
+          the belligerent group, which was now squeezed into close quarters.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          From his recent experience Walter knew what it meant to be in such a
+          mob. Whoever fell was walked over. But it really wasn&rsquo;t so bad
+          as that: to fall was impossible. The danger was in being crowded off
+          the street into basements, where limbs and necks might be easily
+          broken. In this respect there was more danger than there had been the
+          evening before in Kalver Street.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Christian souls!&rdquo; cried Juffrouw Laps. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+          getting right sick at the stomach.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter&rsquo;s condition was about the same. All at once he seized her
+          arm. He thought that he saw somebody&mdash;somebody who looked like&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s right, dear. Hold fast to me. It&rsquo;s simply
+          death and murder!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter did not say anything.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t it enough to run anybody crazy?&rdquo; continued
+          the dear Juffrouw. &ldquo;Hold fast to me, and remember that I am your
+          Christine.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was remembering something else.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be afraid&mdash;Lord, that child&rsquo;s beside
+          himself&mdash;nobody shall hurt you. I will take care of you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He held on to her arm all the tighter; otherwise he was as if turned
+          to stone.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t pay any attention to it, sweetheart. But&mdash;it
+          is bad enough. Do you see that girl there with the North Holland cap
+          on? I wouldn&rsquo;t like to be in her place.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It is&mdash;Femke! O God, it is Femke!&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb250" href="#pb250">250</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Shaking off Juffrouw Laps, who attempted to hold him back, he rushed
+          down the steps and in a few minutes was in the thickest of the fray.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He fought his way through the crowd like a mad-man, soon reaching the
+          point where he had seen Femke. She, however, had disappeared. A man
+          with flashy cap and sailor&rsquo;s jacket, who from above had looked
+          like her escort, was still contending with the crowd. It seemed as if
+          the two had come arm in arm through Amstel Street.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is there a girl here with a North Holland cap on?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The man was too busy fighting and wrestling for standing-room to make
+          answer. Meanwhile, Walter noticed that the fellow was struggling
+          toward the &ldquo;Herberge,&rdquo; and concluded that his lady must
+          have taken refuge there.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter paid no more attention to the punches and blows he received. He
+          was only concerned to give as many blows as were necessary to hasten
+          his arrival at the restaurant. The place was about as badly crowded as
+          the street, but there was no fighting going on.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, Walter had made a good beginning: yesterday in the &ldquo;Polish
+          Coffeehouse,&rdquo; to-day in the &ldquo;Juniper Berry&rdquo;&mdash;thrown
+          in there, fighting his way in here.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was in the restaurant at last, looking for Femke. Now he thought
+          that he had discovered her, standing on a step, or something of the
+          kind. With lips tightly closed, her arms crossed, the girl was looking
+          quietly down on the multitude as if in silent contempt. The rim was
+          torn from her cap and was hanging down. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb251" href="#pb251">251</a>]</span>Walter thought that he even
+          saw blood on her face&mdash;Femke&rsquo;s dear face!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was exhausted and could not reach her. He looked at her. She did
+          not see him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She stood there proud and haughty. He called to her. She did not hear.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;O God! she despises me. I deserve it for my cowardice at Holsma&rsquo;s.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Boy,&rdquo; said the woman behind the bar, &ldquo;we don&rsquo;t
+          have any bellowing here. If you want to bellow go to your mother.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Easier said than done. He couldn&rsquo;t move a peg, such was the
+          press. He was shoved against the counter; and it was impossible for
+          him to keep sight of Femke. The tears began to roll down his cheeks.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What are you doing in such a crowd anyway?&rdquo; continued the
+          woman, &ldquo;when you&rsquo;re so weak. You look as flimsy as a
+          dish-rag. What have you been doing? Let me give you a glass of cognac.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He would have been only too glad to pay for his place; but, as he
+          &ldquo;received at home everything that he needed,&rdquo; he did not
+          have the wherewithal. Still, there was no danger of his being thrown
+          out. The crowd, which was threatening to expend its remaining energy
+          in destroying the liquids of the place, was now occupying the barmaid&rsquo;s
+          attention. I should say Mrs. Goremest&rsquo;s attention. She was the
+          proprietress.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl continued to hold her position of advantage. There was
+          something scornful in her features. &ldquo;Who dares!&rdquo; she
+          seemed to say.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was feeling bad. She looked over in his <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb252" href="#pb252">252</a>]</span>direction, but without seeing
+          him. He called; but she did not hear.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then the fellow with the flashy cap and sailor jacket appeared in the
+          door. He had not been one of the belligerents; but he had suffered the
+          fate of neutral powers. As his clothing testified, both parties had
+          been his enemies.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          So intent was the fellow on getting in that he did not even take time
+          to return the shoves and cuffs that he received. Twice, three times he
+          was crowded back; for where so many want the same thing, it isn&rsquo;t
+          easy to obtain. Nevertheless, he had one advantage over the others,
+          who sought only a resting-place and a glass of liquor. He was incited
+          by something else.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter hoped with all his heart that the fellow would succeed in
+          reaching Femke. She looked so lonely in the midst of that wild mob. If
+          he had been stronger, he would have&mdash;but she wouldn&rsquo;t have
+          anything to do with him. Wouldn&rsquo;t she push him off, just as she
+          did the insolent fellow who first caught hold of her apron?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl seemed now to spy the sailor. She nodded to him and smiled,
+          as if to encourage him. Or was she thanking him for his fidelity? Her
+          smile bore the message that she was uninjured, and fearless. Yes, she
+          stood there a statute of repose.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The sailor nodded back.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He would never have denied her, Walter thought.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mrs. Goremest happened to see the new arrival; and, from the way she
+          greeted him, he seemed to be a frequent visitor to her place: <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb253" href="#pb253">253</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Hello, Klaas. Are you there too? You&rsquo;re out of breath,
+          aren&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She gave orders to let him through, and even came out a few steps and
+          helped open up the way for him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus it happened that Klaas Verlaan found standing-room at the counter
+          not far from Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, they&rsquo;ve made the most of you!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He saw it the same way. He was never certain of a moment&rsquo;s
+          recreation before bedtime. Walter, as well as the girl who still
+          maintained her elevated position in the corner, agreed with the
+          bar-woman&rsquo;s verdict.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Had a good day?&rdquo; continued the woman. &ldquo;It was bad
+          about the boat-race.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Klaas placed his finger on his mouth, as if he were going to tell her
+          a secret. He wanted to tell of an adventure with Princess Erika.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A glass of corn?&rdquo; translated the bar-woman, but without
+          guessing the right thing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Half and half?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Nor that either.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Red?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This time Klaas was particularly dainty and hard to please. He
+          declined regularly whatever she suggested and continued to exert
+          himself to draw her into a more confidential talk. He had had the
+          pleasure of pulling Princess Erika out of the water.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On the outside they were still singing, &ldquo;Amour &agrave; la plus
+          belle.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The devil take those Welsh songs!&rdquo; cried one of the
+          drinkers. &ldquo;We are Dutchmen forever!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">
+          [<a id="pb254" href="#pb254">254</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, we are Dutchman forever&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And our prince&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will sing what I please; and, if anybody doesn&rsquo;t want
+          to sing&rdquo;&mdash;he struck himself on the chest, and the whole
+          party was Dutch and enthusiastic over royalty. &ldquo;Our Prince&rdquo;
+          was sung lustily, and to a finish.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, when we were still true Dutchmen&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, when we were still true Dutchmen&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And under the republic!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Long live the republic!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You all ought to have seen a yacht-race then.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And our prince&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Under the republic all men were equal.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Equal. No difference at all.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Down with the tyrants!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;They&rsquo;re not a bit better than we are!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;They suck the life out of the people.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, they bleed us.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And why? Because you&rsquo;re all cowardly dogs.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, they&rsquo;re all cowardly dogs.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You put your necks under the yoke.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Whenever a king comes around, or an emperor, or a prince, then
+          all of you are so frightened you tremble like an aspen leaf.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, like an aspen leaf!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If you fellows were&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All men are born free.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, we were born free and equal.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And true Dutch hearts&mdash;what say you, Mrs. Goremest? <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb255" href="#pb255">255</a>]</span>What do
+          you think, that&rsquo;s a daughter of M&rsquo;neer&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The name died on the speaker&rsquo;s lips. He became pale.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A daughter of M&rsquo;neer&mdash;&mdash;!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly. Ask Verlaan.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Verlaan nodded.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is that so, Klaas? Really and truly? Why then does she stand
+          there dressed that way&mdash;like an ordinary girl?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, those clothes came from my Gertie, you know. Rich people
+          have&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Come, boys, we must go home now. Mother Goremest needs sleep,
+          too. We are not made of iron; we are flesh and blood.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Down with the tyrants! We were born free. True Dutch hearts&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh! The young lady&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What? That girl? What then?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh! The daughter of&mdash;but don&rsquo;t say a word. Damme if
+          it isn&rsquo;t so&mdash;the daughter of M&rsquo;neer&mdash;Kopperlith!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Kopperlith on <i>Keizersgracht</i>? What are you talking about,
+          man! Kopperlith&mdash;on <i>Keizersgracht</i>!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, of course. Come, we&rsquo;re going.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;His daughter? His&mdash;&mdash;natural daughter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That&rsquo;s right. You understand it now; but keep quiet about
+          it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The true Dutch hearts and republicans paid and left the bar.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was a sudden whim of Klaas Verlaan&rsquo;s to make his ward a child
+          of <i>Keizersgracht</i>; but it brought <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb256" href="#pb256">256</a>]</span>him in more ducats than he
+          cared to admit afterward.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Kopperlith? Kopperlith? on <i>Keizersgracht</i>? Femke on <i>
+          Keizersgracht</i>! And on the day after to-morrow he was to begin work
+          for this wealthy gentleman.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His head swam. Was he still Walter Pieterse? He doubted it. Before he
+          had quite come to himself, he was forced through the door with other
+          late stragglers. It was time for Mrs. Goremest to close.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The street was comparatively quiet now. Walter remained near the
+          &ldquo;Herberge,&rdquo; which to him was a sort of temple where his
+          Goddess was being worshiped. Now and then somebody else was pitched
+          out the door, who would have been glad to stay longer. It was not
+          every day that one got an opportunity to see a daughter of M&rsquo;neer
+          Kopperlith. Some wanted to join the triumvirate of Verlaan, the
+          republican speaker, and Mrs. Goremest; but the three felt themselves
+          strong enough to do the work and share the rewards.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At last the outflow ceased, and Walter was just going to peep through
+          the curtains of the glass door, when the door opened again and the
+          republican emerged. Walter heard Klaas call to him:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There on the corner in Paarden Street, you know<span
+          class="corr" id="xd0e5559" title="Source: ,">.</span> If it costs a
+          dollar more, that&rsquo;s all right. Tell the cabby&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter understood. The republican was to get a cab&mdash;for Femke?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter waited. In the meanwhile, Mrs. Goremest had locked the door and
+          drawn the curtains, so that it was impossible for him to look in now.
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb257" href="#pb257">257</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In a short time a carriage drove up, and the republican sprang out of
+          it. The door of Mrs. Goremest&rsquo;s establishment opened again, and
+          Klaas Verlaan with the ostensible daughter of Kopperlith appeared.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke, I am here!&rdquo; Walter cried, hurrying to her. &ldquo;I
+          am here. Oh, Femke, don&rsquo;t go with the strange men!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What in the devil are you doing here again!&rdquo; snorted
+          Verlaan, seizing Walter by the collar to pull him back into the
+          restaurant. &ldquo;What do you want? And who are you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke, don&rsquo;t go with the strange men. I will take you
+          home, I, Walter.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The boy is weak in the upper story,&rdquo; affirmed Mrs.
+          Goremest. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s been bellowing around her the whole
+          evening like a calf, and he hasn&rsquo;t spent a doit.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter reached for Femke&rsquo;s hand; and then he noticed how
+          curiously she was rigged out. She was completely covered. Of her head,
+          face, shoulders, figure&mdash;nothing was to be seen. Mrs. Goremest
+          had contributed her cloak; but what would one not do for a Kopperlith?
+          Still, she was saving: Only the stump of one tallow candle was
+          burning. It flickered strangely, giving to everything a ghostly
+          appearance.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is it you, Erich?&rdquo; the girl asked.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke, Femke, for God&rsquo;s sake, don&rsquo;t go with those
+          strange men!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Tearing himself away from Verlaan, he threw himself at Femke&rsquo;s
+          feet. He pulled aside her cloak and covered her hand with tears and
+          kisses.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Just like I tell you,&rdquo; declared Mrs. Goremest. &ldquo;The
+          boy is as crazy as a bedbug.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb258" href="#pb258">258</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke, I will never deny you again. Strike me, tread on me,
+          kill me, but&mdash;don&rsquo;t go with those strange men.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Light!&rdquo; cried the girl peremptorily&mdash;a word that
+          even a Dutchman understands.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The republican took the candle from the counter and held it so that
+          the light fell on Walter&rsquo;s face. The boy was still kneeling.
+          Through an opening in her hood the girl looked down on him and was
+          silent. She did not withdraw the hand that Walter held closely pressed
+          to his lips.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Verlaan made a motion as if to remove the intruder; but the girl
+          stopped him with a look. Then she laid her free hand on Walter&rsquo;s
+          head, saying simply:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My brother!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Another <span class="corr" id="xd0e5600"
+          title="Source: descendent">descendant</span> of Kopperlith!&rdquo;
+          growled the republican. The young people have strange ideas about how
+          to spend the night.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When Walter came to his senses, he was in the street again. The
+          carriage had driven away&mdash;whether with her, or without her;
+          whether with the two men, or without them&mdash;that he did not know.
+          It made no difference to him: she had called him &ldquo;brother,&rdquo;
+          seriously, solemnly. She had spoken clearly and distinctly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;O God! I thank thee. Thou art kind and compassionate. I didn&rsquo;t
+          know that Femke could speak like that. She must have felt it down in
+          her heart.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To-morrow, he thought, he would become immensely wealthy&mdash;in
+          &ldquo;business&rdquo;&mdash;and, of course, he was going to be a king
+          again, and still more: For Femke he would be more than a brother!
+          Juffrouw <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb259" href="#pb259">259</a>]</span>Laps
+          had awakened in him&mdash;well, something, he did not know himself
+          what it was. His heart rejoiced; he walked upon stilts, as tired as he
+          was, and wondered that his head did not bump against the clouds. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb260" href="#pb260">260</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch29" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXIX
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          For anyone in Walter&rsquo;s present mood, there are only two things
+          in the world; self, and&mdash;nothingness!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter looked about him. &ldquo;Butter Market,&rdquo; he read on a
+          sign. He noticed that in the street socks could be bought, wagons
+          hired, etc., etc.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But what did it all mean? Nothing. He had kissed Femke&rsquo;s hand!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It is too bad that the world did not sink out of existence on that
+          summer night.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If Walter had noticed such an occurrence, he might have asked if Femke
+          was hurt; otherwise the phenomenon would not have disturbed him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The reader will understand, of course, that on this eventful night the
+          world did not go down.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter forgave the sun for rising. He even excused the Butter Market
+          for being such a hot place; but it was difficult for him to convince
+          himself that it was not all a dream.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A new feeling took possession of him. His ambitious plans of a
+          material nature receded into the background of consciousness. His one
+          desire now was to love Femke&mdash;and win her love. Those continents
+          that were expecting salvation from him might wait.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He thought of Femke and her soft hand. Never had her hand felt like
+          that. Formerly it had seemed <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb261"
+          href="#pb261">261</a>]</span>harder and rougher; but, of course, he
+          had just been mistaken about it. He imagined, too, that hitherto he
+          had not marked her voice well, nor her carriage. Surely, he had never
+          seen the true Femke till to-night&mdash;better, this morning.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But&mdash;Klaas Verlaan and his rough companions! What did all that
+          gab about M&rsquo;neer Kopperlith mean? There were other questions
+          too; but&mdash;Femke had called him brother; and that was one thing
+          which with him was as firm as the rock of Gibraltar.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Brooding thus, he slipped along through the streets. Weak and tired,
+          he came to the &ldquo;Dam.&rdquo; Here he saw a long row of carriages.
+          The coachmen sat in their places waiting for the princely guests, who
+          had wanted to see a Holland sunrise. The sun was already in sight; but
+          there were no princes and princesses to see him. A few laborers were
+          looking on indifferently.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yesterday Walter would have exerted himself to see a live, fullgrown
+          king, just to find out if he looked like Macbeth, or Arthur, or Lear.
+          To-day he was so tired that kings did not interest him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was just starting on, when the coachmen suddenly assumed a rigid
+          attitude. A boy remarked that &ldquo;they&rdquo; were coming now. He
+          was right: they did come; and all, except one old lady, drove away so
+          rapidly that scarcely anyone saw them. She touched her coachman on the
+          shoulder.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She has forgotten something,&rdquo; said the boy.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Three or four cavaliers stormed back into the palace and brought her
+          fan. While they were gone, the boys wondered at the pimples on her
+          face. Walter&rsquo;s <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb262" href="#pb262">262</a>]</span>pictures
+          had had nothing of that kind. How different Femke&rsquo;s face was!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter trudged along further; and, without thinking of where he was
+          going, he came to the meadow where Femke and her mother dried their
+          clothes. He sat down on the grass, intending to wait for the first
+          signs of life in Femke&rsquo;s home. He was not certain that she was
+          there; he did not know but that she might still be at Holsma&rsquo;s;
+          but there would be somebody there.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Overcome by weariness he lay down and gradually fell asleep. His cap
+          came off, rolled down into the ditch and disappeared in the mud.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If anyone passed by, he remarked that there lay a drunken fellow. Yes,
+          youth begins early. Possibly the fellow was sick; but then the police
+          would take care of him. Nobody hurt him; nobody touched him. His
+          dreams were undisturbed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He dreamed of various things; but the principal object of his dreams
+          was a young girl, who was standing on a platform playing ball with
+          heavy men, as if that were nothing. Suddenly it was little Sietske
+          Holsma.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Then in his dreams he heard a voice:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Goodness, boy, how did you get here?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At first the voice was far away, then nearer, and finally quite near.
+          He had the dim impression that somebody was pulling him up to a
+          sitting posture.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sietske!&rdquo; he whispered, still sleeping.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, that&rsquo;s my name. How did you know it?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sietske&mdash;&mdash;!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, certainly. Who told you? And what are <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb263" href="#pb263">263</a>]</span>you doing here. It isn&rsquo;t
+          very respectable. Are you drunk? And so young, too.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He called Sietske&rsquo;s name again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You may call me by my first name, if you want to; but how does
+          it come? Did Femke tell you? It&rsquo;s a real disgrace to lie here
+          like a hog. What were you going to say?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter rubbed his eyes and felt of his head. &ldquo;I would like to
+          wash myself,&rdquo; he said, not yet wide awake.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Claus. &ldquo;And you&rsquo;re not
+          hurt, are you? Where is your cap?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Wash&mdash;with cold water,&rdquo; Walter said.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Good! Come to the pump with me.&rdquo; She led him through the
+          house and across the back yard.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You needn&rsquo;t be afraid to undress here; nobody can see
+          you. But how did you happen to call me by my first name all at once.
+          Not that I&rsquo;m offended at all.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was still too much asleep to recall what had happened to him
+          during the past few hours; so he only said that he had a headache and
+          must wash himself first.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Mrs. Claus, noticing that he was ashamed to undress, hung some quilts
+          on the fence, thus converting the yard into a sort of room. It never
+          occurred to her that her own presence might embarrass him. Walter was
+          still not quite pleased with the outlook for a bath; but since
+          yesterday he had been thinking of other things as strange.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He began to strip, allowing Mrs. Claus to help him, just as if he had
+          been fifteen years younger than he was. To Mrs. Claus he was only a
+          child. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb264" href="#pb264">264</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She laid him on a bench under the spout and began to pump. At the
+          first drops he shivered; then the water flooded his head and
+          shoulders. He could neither see nor speak. His efforts to speak she
+          interpreted as calls for more water.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, this will be good for you.&rdquo; Her words were drowned
+          by the splashing water.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t hurt yourself, did you? Do you think that will
+          be enough now? I&rsquo;ve pumped till I&rsquo;ve got a pain in my
+          side. But if you think that&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She stopped all at once, but still held on to the pump handle, as if
+          to show her willingness to continue.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I forgot entirely to&rdquo;&mdash;she began pumping again&mdash;&ldquo;wash
+          you off with green soap. Femke always washes herself with it. It makes
+          the skin nice and smooth.&mdash;You ought to see your back now. It
+          shines like a looking-glass.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter wanted to say something but couldn&rsquo;t.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and your forehead, too. It&rsquo;s the green soap that
+          does it. I guess your mother never washes you with green soap, does
+          she? Then one must scour and scrub and rub. But, if you are not used
+          to soap&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She lifted that terrible pump handle again.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I believe this will be about enough,&rdquo; Walter blubbered.
+          His mouth was so full of water that again Mrs. Claus did not
+          understand him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Green soap is good for corns, and for rheumatism.&rdquo; She
+          was pumping away for dear life.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter finally succeeded in rescuing himself and the bench from that
+          destructive stream of water. He was now able to make his cries for
+          mercy understood; but <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb265"
+          href="#pb265">265</a>]</span>he was not yet able to get up. Besides,
+          the good woman had hung his clothes out of his reach, and he was
+          ashamed. He remained sitting.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you want anything else?&rdquo; inquired the water nymph.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, no!&rdquo; he answered quickly. She was already lifting
+          the pump-handle again. &ldquo;But&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The simple, innocent woman did not understand; and, when he continued
+          to sit there like a helpless lump of misery, she asked:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you have a pain anywhere?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, I haven&rsquo;t any pains.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you tired?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was still tired, and said so.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And I woke you up! I&rsquo;ll tell you what, you must go to
+          sleep and take a good nap.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She began drying him off, as if that were a usual thing in her day&rsquo;s
+          work. Then she rolled him up in a sheet and carried him off like a
+          sack of clothes. He could not but notice the way she laid him down.
+          Then she covered him warmly.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Straighten out your legs, my boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter did as she said, and experienced an indescribable feeling of
+          comfort. And when she punched him and patted him and tucked him in,
+          and said: &ldquo;Poor child, you can sleep good now. This is Femke&rsquo;s
+          bed, you know&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; then he was more than comfortable;
+          he was delighted.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When he awakened at about four o&rsquo;clock in the afternoon he heard
+          whispering voices. He listened, at first to find out where he was, and
+          then to understand what was being said. <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb266" href="#pb266">266</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It seemed as if there were a plot further to confuse Sietske with
+          Femke in his mind.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Sietske; but what does he mean by lying out like that? If
+          I were his mother&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The answer was:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Cousin, I don&rsquo;t suppose his mother knows about it.
+          Hermann did the same thing once. That&rsquo;s the way boys are.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oho! Sietske was there; and Mrs. Claus was her cousin, and her name
+          was Sietske too! And that girl&mdash;there in Mrs. Goremest&rsquo;s
+          place?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His thoughts became more and more confused; though physically he felt
+          well.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          How would it do, he thought, to tear a little piece out of the sheet,
+          so as to be able to examine it to-morrow and make certain of himself
+          and his adventures?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          If he had been accustomed to fine bedlinen at home, he might now have
+          taken an especial pleasure in Mrs. Claus&rsquo;s extremely rough
+          homemade linen. Hm! He had always dreamed of princesses sleeping on
+          embroidered silk, among diamonds and pearls! He did not yet know that
+          it is possible to conceive royal and imperial highnesses otherwise at
+          night, and that perhaps a princess might sometimes be willing to
+          tousle Femke&rsquo;s bed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He looked about the room. There was another small bed, where, he
+          supposed, Femke&rsquo;s mother slept. Across the room was the chimney.
+          Here were small shelves decorated with works of art. Walter noticed
+          the &ldquo;resurrection of Lazarus.&rdquo; Four chairs were in the
+          room. One was standing by his bed, and on it his clothes were
+          carefully arranged. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb267" href="#pb267">267</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In the middle of the room stood a table; and the drawer was partly
+          open. It was too full. Father Jansen&rsquo;s woolen socks were peeping
+          out while they waited for repairs. Walter wondered if those other
+          objectionable articles were there too.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On the wall, at the head of his bed, hung a crucifix, with a small
+          basin of holy water. With that she crosses herself, he thought. He
+          stuck his hand into it: it was dry. The whole arrangement was fastened
+          to an embroidered piece of cardboard, and, when he touched it,
+          something fell from behind it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It looked like a large-sized letter. Walter picked it up and looked
+          for the address. He felt that it must be a letter from Femke to him.
+          Then he reproached himself, and, trembling with emotion, restored the
+          piece of paper to its place. He had held it up to the light: it was
+          the Ophelia that he had presented her after his illness! She had
+          treasured the picture together with the most sacred thing she
+          possessed.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He was wide awake now; but who wouldn&rsquo;t wake up on receiving a
+          letter from Heaven?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He dressed himself and went into the other room, where he supposed
+          Mrs. Claus and Sietske were. Not a soul was to be seen. For the first
+          time it occurred to him that after those few words he had heard
+          nothing more. The girl had surely visited her &ldquo;cousin&rdquo; and
+          then gone away.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But Mrs. Claus herself? Perhaps she, too, had gone away. This was the
+          case; however, she had not gone out without leaving behind her a
+          peculiar sign of her uncouth character and lack of refinement. On a
+          small table, before which stood an inviting chair, <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb268" href="#pb268">268</a>]</span>lay two
+          pieces of bread and butter of her standard make. Beside them was a pot
+          of coffee. To be sure, it was cold now; but&mdash;well, Walter acted
+          quickly &ldquo;according to his convictions.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Other thoughts now forced themselves on his mind. The &ldquo;House of
+          Pieterse&rdquo; appeared to his mind&rsquo;s eye as a menacing
+          waterspout. In the face of this danger difficult questions that had
+          been clamoring for answer had to be forgotten.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          To go home? For heaven&rsquo;s sake, no!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          His mother, Stoffel, his sisters&mdash;all had turned into Macbethan
+          witches. In his imagination, even Leentje had deserted him and was
+          asking him to beg forgiveness for his shameful behavior. He thought of
+          the prodigal son; though he knew that no calf, fat or otherwise, would
+          be slaughtered on his return.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          <i>Sakkerloot!</i> I haven&rsquo;t done anything wrong; I haven&rsquo;t
+          squandered anything&mdash;not a doit of my inheritance! Have I allowed
+          the wine to run out? Not a drop!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          But something must have been the matter; for&mdash;he did not dare to
+          go home.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Have I had any pleasure? Have I enjoyed any feast with four young
+          ladies? No! Have I allowed hounds to run around loose in the
+          banquet-hall? Have I had any negro servant to hold my horse?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There he took his stand. And he stayed there. Of camels and girls and
+          wine he felt that he was innocent; but himself, and his adventures of
+          the night, he was unable further to explain.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wish I were a crumb of bread,&rdquo; he sighed, as he <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb269" href="#pb269">269</a>]</span>stuck one
+          into his mouth, &ldquo;then I would know where I belong.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Doubtless the first crumb of bread that was ever envied by a ruler.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Go to America?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, if he only had those hundred florins that Mr. Motto had relieved
+          him of. Of course that worthy gentleman was now living like a prince
+          on the money. At least, Juffrouw Pieterse had said as much. But, even
+          if he had the money, he could not go away and leave Mrs. Claus&rsquo;s
+          house to the mercy of stray thieves and robbers. In a way, hadn&rsquo;t
+          he on yesterday evening taken the field against robbers?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Besides, he had no cap. There was nothing in sight that looked like a
+          hat. Yes&mdash;there hung a North Holland cap!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke? America? <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb270" href="#pb270">270</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch30" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXX
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          While Walter was looking at Femke&rsquo;s cap and revolving other
+          plans of escape, the door opened and Kaatje, the girl from Holsma&rsquo;s,
+          walked in. Not recognizing her, Walter did not understand her when she
+          said that Femke had sent her to ask how he was. He looked at the
+          messenger searchingly; then he asked:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you trying to make a fool of me?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He had puzzled over recent events till everything seemed ghostly and
+          unreal; and he was angry.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;My dear sir, Femke sent me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What Femke? Somebody&rsquo;s grandmother again.&rdquo; He took
+          a step forward; and his attitude was threatening.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Are you that giant Miller&rsquo;s sweetheart?&rdquo; taking
+          another step forward, while Kaatje fell back.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Young man!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Kaatje was already outside of the door, Walter close after her with
+          his fists doubled up.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Young man, what&rsquo;s the matter with you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter with me? I&rsquo;m tired of being made
+          a fool of. You understand?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She retreated backwards; he pursued. It may have looked comical; but
+          that was the way his anger chose to express itself. In this manner the
+          girl returned by the same way she came, which was the footpath across
+          the meadow where the clothes were dried. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb271" href="#pb271">271</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, heavens! If the doctor would only come.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What do you think of me?&rdquo; Walter said, punctuating his
+          words.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, Lord!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do <i>you</i> think I&rsquo;m drunk?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, no, no. Not at all!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Or crazy?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no!&mdash;Where can the doctor be so long!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Two very similar shouts put an end to the strained situation.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Thank God, there he is!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Thank God, there it is!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          One cry came from Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s coachman, who was driving up
+          hurriedly; the other cry meant that two boys, who were fishing in the
+          ditch for frogs, had caught Walter&rsquo;s cap.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter accepted his lost property without question or complaint; while
+          Kaatje, with tears in her eyes, ran up to Dr. Holsma to explain what
+          was the matter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Is it really so bad?&rdquo; asked that gentleman presently.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He approached Walter, who was shaking the mud from his cap, glad to
+          think that he was concealing his embarrassment and fright.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, my boy, it&rsquo;s a good thing I met you here. I wanted
+          to ask you if you wouldn&rsquo;t like to take dinner with us this
+          evening. Afterwards we will all go out for a little amusement, if you
+          like.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was the tone Walter needed to hear. He burst into tears.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Thank you, thank you! That will be nice for my mother, too.&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb272" href="#pb272">272</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Holsma motioned to Kaatje, who had timidly retired to the background.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Go to Juffrouw Pieterse and tell her that the young gentleman
+          dines with us, and that he is going to spend the evening with us.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; cried Walter quickly, &ldquo;and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The doctor looked at him anxiously. He was afraid that he saw symptoms
+          of the alleged mental disorder; but Walter&rsquo;s eye was calm and
+          gave no ground for fear.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;M&rsquo;neer, can&rsquo;t she say too that I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Out with it, my boy! What have you on your heart?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That I was with you&mdash;all day!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Holsma reflected.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;all day.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;From early this morning&mdash;from seven o&rsquo;clock on.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;From seven o&rsquo;clock on,&rdquo; the doctor repeated.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And&mdash;I ate breakfast at your house.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, the young gentleman ate breakfast at our house. To
+          be sure, he ate breakfast with us. Kaatje, you can ride in the
+          carriage with us.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          As Holsma helped Walter in he gave the coachman directions to stop at
+          Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s, where &ldquo;the girl&rdquo; was &ldquo;to
+          leave a message.&rdquo; When he took a seat by his prot&eacute;g&eacute;,
+          Walter pressed his hand and exclaimed: &ldquo;Oh, what a good fortune
+          it is that I found you!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you think so? It was only a&mdash;mere accident. Mrs. Claus
+          is a&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A cousin?&rdquo; interrupted Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and she&rsquo;s a good woman,&rdquo; said Holsma. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb273" href="#pb273">273</a>]</span>&ldquo;She
+          is a cousin of ours, and I came to visit her. I do that every week,
+          not as a physician, but as a kinsman. You can go to see her as much as
+          you like: nothing will hurt you there.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;M&rsquo;neer!&rdquo; exclaimed Walter suddenly&mdash;and he
+          caught his breath&mdash;&ldquo;I think so much of Femke!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So?&rdquo; answered Holsma dryly. &ldquo;I do too.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The doctor was diagnosing Walter&rsquo;s case; but he preferred to do
+          it quietly. While speaking of indifferent things, he noted that Kaatje
+          had been mistaken; that Walter was both excited and exhausted, but
+          that his mind was unaffected. On the contrary, his mind was growing.
+          His soul was expanding.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When Kaatje left the carriage, Walter felt that the time had come to
+          give and receive explanations. Holsma was of a contrary opinion. He
+          was friendly enough, but showed no inclination for heart-to-heart
+          confidences. Walter&rsquo;s confusing story was promptly interrupted.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve heard that you&rsquo;re going to enter the world of
+          business.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, sir, the day after to-morrow.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Well, that isn&rsquo;t bad, if you get into the right hands.
+          You must work, though; and that&rsquo;s good for boys like you.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Fearing that Walter might imagine he was something more than the
+          average boy, Holsma continued immediately:
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a good thing for everybody, especially young people.
+          They&rsquo;re all alike; and all need to work. All boys must work; and
+          girls, too. Everybody must work.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb274" href="#pb274">274</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter did not understand that the doctor was giving him a dose of
+          medicine; but he saw that the time for explanations had not yet
+          arrived. Still he would have felt better if he could have unburdened
+          his mind of at least a part of those persistent memories of last
+          night. His instinct of chivalry would have prevented him from
+          mentioning the details of the Laps affair, which, after all, had only
+          been an ineffective attack.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He began again; but the doctor interrupted him before he had hardly
+          mentioned the fried potatoes.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, such things happen to everybody. That doesn&rsquo;t amount
+          to anything. The thing for young people to do&mdash;and for old
+          people, too&mdash;is to work. It seems to be rather windy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was true. If it had only been as windy yesterday.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you like pictures?&rdquo; asked Holsma, when they had left
+          the carriage and were entering his home.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Good! Just go into that room. Look at everything as long as you
+          please.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The doctor pushed him into the room, then ran through the hall and up
+          the stairs to prepare the family for Walter&rsquo;s reception.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter found little pleasure in paintings. He had had no training in
+          art. For him, a man with a dog and a hare was merely a man with a dog
+          and a hare. He felt that a poem ought to have been written about it
+          all; then it would have been intelligible. His glance fell on the
+          portrait of a woman, or a queen, or a fairy, or a mayor&rsquo;s
+          daughter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Femke! <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb275" href="#pb275">275</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Instead of the North Holland cap she wore a diadem of sparkling stars,
+          or rays of&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Dinner is ready, and papa and mamma invite you to come out to
+          the dining-room. Are you still sore after your fall?&rdquo; It was
+          little Sietske.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t fall.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I mean from your fall on the table in the coffee-house. How
+          comical! Well, if you are all right again, we&rsquo;re going out this
+          evening&mdash;papa, mamma, William, Hermann, you, I&mdash;all! We&rsquo;re
+          going to the theatre!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Sietske had understood her orders.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Going out?&mdash;to the theatre? But my mother&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Papa will attend to that. Don&rsquo;t worry; he will arrange
+          everything.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Once out in the hall, Walter hesitated again. He motioned to Sietske
+          and took her back into the room.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sietske, who is that?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That is a great-great-great-great-grandmother of ours.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But she looks like&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Like Femke! Of course. Like me, too. When Hermann puts on such
+          a cap you can&rsquo;t tell him from Femke. Come, now. We mustn&rsquo;t
+          keep mamma waiting.<span class="corr" id="xd0e5971"
+          title="Not in source">&rdquo;</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On entering the dining-room Walter was met by that quiet cordiality
+          that the doctor had prescribed. When all were seated Sietske mentioned
+          the picture again in apologizing to Walter for hurrying him away from
+          it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; remarked the doctor quietly, &ldquo;there is some
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb276" href="#pb276">276</a>]</span>resemblance;
+          but Femke is not so pretty. No, not by a great deal.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A cold douche!
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had never thought of Femke&rsquo;s beauty. He really did not
+          know whether the girl was pretty, or not.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Will you take some sauce, Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She had called him brother, so solemnly, and with such a mien! Of
+          course the lady in the portrait, with the sparkling diadem, would hold
+          out her hand the same way. Walter made an awkward gesture with his
+          hand.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Salad?&rdquo; asked Sietske.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It will be crowded,&rdquo; said Mevrouw Holsma. &ldquo;Everyone
+          will want to see the kings and princes. We haven&rsquo;t asked our
+          guest yet if he wants to go. We&rsquo;re going to the theatre; would
+          you like to go with us?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was charmed at the prospect. He had never been in a theatre,
+          but had long wanted to see such a play as Leentje had described. He
+          cared nothing for kings. He would have given a dozen kings for one
+          baron carrying away a girl in the approved manner. The Glorioso
+          influence was still on him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;We shall see half of the sovereigns of Europe,&rdquo; said
+          Holsma, &ldquo;and a dozen candidates&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter wondered what the candidates would do in the &ldquo;comedy.&rdquo;
+          Sietske explained.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There was still plenty of time. Holsma was going out to see a patient
+          and promised to stop at Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          For reasons of fashion and feminine finery the play was not to begin
+          till nine o&rsquo;clock. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb277"
+          href="#pb277">277</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter heard that Femke, too, was to witness the performance; and from
+          the conversation he gathered that the relations existing between the
+          aristocratic family and the poor wash-girl were most cordial. Mevrouw
+          Holsma sent Sietske to ask Femke to come in; but Femke preferred to
+          remain with little Erich, with whom she was playing at the time.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Erich?&rdquo; thought Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I thought as much,&rdquo; said Mevrouw Holsma. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s
+          why she wasn&rsquo;t at the table. She would rather stay with the
+          baby.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She says, too, that we sit at the table too long for her,&rdquo;
+          added Sietske.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She wouldn&rsquo;t enjoy the play anyway,&rdquo; observed
+          William. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s a good girl, but she&rsquo;s a little
+          thick-headed. Don&rsquo;t you think so, mamma?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Everyone must act according to his own convictions, and consult
+          his own tastes. Femke is too good to be forced to anything.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          There must have been some special reason why the mother was going to
+          the theatre with the rest, when she preferred to stay at home with
+          little Erich, who had the measles. But she was going to remain &ldquo;only
+          a little while,&rdquo; and then come back with Uncle Sybrand. He would
+          return to the theatre taking Femke with him, if she cared to go.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I call it thick-headedness,&rdquo; affirmed William. &ldquo;She
+          just don&rsquo;t want to put on a fine dress.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, she doesn&rsquo;t want to be a fine lady,&rdquo; said the
+          mother. &ldquo;She is very sensible and fears that this might disturb
+          her relations with her mother. We ought to have taken her when she was
+          little; but Mrs. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb278" href="#pb278">278</a>]</span>Claus
+          couldn&rsquo;t give her up then. And now Femke can&rsquo;t give
+          herself up.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She&rsquo;s only stubborn,&rdquo; William explained.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She is proud,&rdquo; corrected his mother, &ldquo;too proud to
+          appear other than she is. She wouldn&rsquo;t exchange places with a
+          princess.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Uncle Sybrand came. He announced that the &ldquo;Scylla&rdquo; of
+          Rotgans was to be given, followed by &ldquo;Chloris,&rdquo; with
+          something else as a close. Holsma had already returned, bringing
+          Walter the assurance that it was all right with his mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was enchanted in anticipation. Was he still thinking of Femke?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          William said: &ldquo;So far as I&rsquo;m concerned she can stay at
+          home. Suppose the students were to see me with a peasant girl! What
+          would they do for me when I enter college in September?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Such an Amsterdamer calls everybody a &ldquo;peasant,&rdquo; even if
+          he is a student and able to explain what sort of a &ldquo;Scylla&rdquo;
+          that was.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All were now dressed and starting. Walter was to see his first &ldquo;comedy,&rdquo;
+          and, perhaps, take a part in one. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb279"
+          href="#pb279">279</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch31" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXXI
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          Good Muse, sweet Muse, take us back to Pieterseville again. Whisper to
+          me and tell me what happened there during Walter&rsquo;s romantic
+          enchantment; and have a care that my language rises to the dignity of
+          the subject.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          We know already, Clio, how the mistress of the castle saw her progeny
+          depart to protect the distressed lady from the nefarious attacks of
+          robbers and murderers; how her blessing and the consecrated blade were
+          withheld, and how the brave youth sallied forth with a nightcap his
+          only weapon. We know, too, how the bachelor Stoffel, the hereditary
+          custodian of the reputation of the family&mdash;&mdash;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Ah, let us treat the matter quite simply, and leave the muse alone.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          On the Friday evening in question Juffrouw Pieterse went to bed as
+          usual. The others did the same. There were no indications of bad
+          dreams. There was no trace of anxiety over the terrible danger to
+          which Walter had thoughtlessly exposed himself. This might have been
+          because they did not know of the danger. It had not been at all
+          necessary for Juffrouw Laps to conceal her intention so slyly and
+          always omit Walter&rsquo;s name from the knighthood of the Pieterse
+          family. Thanks to the <span class="corr" id="xd0e6049"
+          title="Source: stupdity"> stupidity</span> of the family, she might
+          have gained her point without any finesse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Saturday morning dawned, that morning on which <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb280" href="#pb280">280</a>]</span>Mrs. Claus applied the
+          restoratives so abundantly, and so efficaciously.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I wonder where in the world the boy can be so long?&rdquo; said
+          the mother.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t suppose he got up very early; and then maybe she
+          had him to read a chapter out of the Bible at breakfast.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This explanation by Stoffel quieted the family for half an hour.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How would it do for you to go over there?&rdquo; Juffrouw
+          Pieterse proposed at last.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going, mother. You know it isn&rsquo;t on my way
+          to school.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was a sufficient reason. Never do anything that isn&rsquo;t on
+          your way&mdash;one of the favorite maxims of conservatism. Stoffel
+          himself did not know how profound was the wisdom of his political
+          aphorism.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;How would it do, then, to send Leentje over to Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s
+          to inquire about Walter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This proposal met with approval, and Leentje was dispatched forthwith.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Oh, poor Juffrouw Laps! She was &ldquo;the most wretched woman in the
+          world;&rdquo; and the room from which Walter had fled so suddenly was
+          now the temple of all the heterogeneous griefs and pains that
+          novelists ever make use of.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I will not place Walter above Joseph, Theseus, Jason or Hippolytos.
+          May Apollo preserve me from such blind partiality. Not by any means do
+          I regard my hero as the most interesting mortal that ever left a woman
+          in the lurch. No, not in Walter&rsquo;s worth do I seek for the
+          measure of the forsaken lady&rsquo;s despair. <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb281" href="#pb281">281</a>]</span>Indeed, Juffrouw Laps&rsquo;s
+          pain was not caused by any reflections as to the beauty or excellence
+          of the vanished knight. There was another element in the matter that
+          was filling her with horror and driving her to distraction. With all
+          due respect for the suffering of other abandoned ladies, Asnath,
+          Ariadne, Medea, Phaedra&mdash;but Juffrouw Laps had to face Walter&rsquo;s
+          family. That was the trouble.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Her fertile brain evolved the most wonderful plans. How would it do
+          for her to tell that he had been carried away in a fiery chariot
+          before the eyes of the people, like Elias of old? She discarded the
+          idea, for fear that no one would believe it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At first she had waited at the window, watching for her little Theseus
+          to return. When she saw him no more she thought that perhaps the mob
+          had carried him off with them. That was not an unpleasant thought;
+          since her fear for his return to his family was greater than her
+          desire for his return to her. This is easily understood: what might he
+          not tell at home?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was already daylight; but Juffrouw Laps knew that it was too early
+          to go to the Pieterses&rsquo;. Besides, what would she say? That her
+          little knight had run away during the night? And why? Whither? How did
+          she know but that he had already told the story in all its details?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She determined&mdash;not to determine upon anything, and to leave the
+          matter with the &ldquo;Master&rdquo; for the present. With this pious
+          resolve she climbed into her maidenly bed; and, before falling asleep,
+          she groaned: &ldquo;If the rascal had only broken his neck, like the
+          high priest Eli, in First Samuel, 4!&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb282" href="#pb282">282</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          No doubt the Master saw the distress of his faithful disciple and
+          taught her how to meet the situation that awaited her waking; for
+          Leentje soon returned with the assurance of Juffrouw Laps that Walter
+          was out taking a morning walk.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In a way, this was the truth. The Juffrouw merely neglected to add why
+          he was taking a walk, and at what hour in the morning he had gone out.
+          Leentje, suspecting nothing, asked no questions. For her it was a
+          &ldquo;matter of course&rdquo; that he would not go out in the middle
+          of the night.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The family now regarded the incident as fresh evidence of Walter&rsquo;s
+          objectionable habit of roving, and nothing more. They felt no anxiety
+          for his personal safety.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There it is again!&rdquo; said the mother. &ldquo;The trouble
+          and vexation I have with that boy. Anybody else would sit down for a
+          while after breakfast; but he&mdash;what does he do? He runs away
+          before it&rsquo;s hardly daylight. Is that any way to do, Stoffel?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, mother.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And to leave us here anxious and worrying over him!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, mother.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;This is a nice caper he&rsquo;s cutting again. He knows very
+          well that we&rsquo;re all uneasy and won&rsquo;t have a minute&rsquo;s
+          peace till he comes. God only knows where he is.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Stoffel could not wait to hear more. It was time for him to go to
+          school.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It may be repeated that there was not a word of truth in all this
+          uneasiness and anxiety. The family <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb283"
+          href="#pb283">283</a>]</span>considered such a display to be the
+          proper thing; though, for the rest, they did not manifest the
+          slightest interest in Walter&rsquo;s fate. For aught they knew some
+          accident might have happened to the boy; but, instead of making a
+          serious effort to find out what had become of him, his mother found it
+          easier to accuse him of indecorous conduct and general worthlessness.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Thus matters remained until Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s carriage drove up
+          before Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s door that afternoon and Kaatje
+          alighted with her message. After the recent fright Walter had given
+          her, she was glad enough to escape from such close proximity to the
+          young lunatic. For thus she regarded him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          All rushed to the window.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There he is; there he is!&rdquo; cried the whole family in a
+          breath, and as loud as they could. &ldquo;Did you ever! Really, he&rsquo;s
+          sitting there in Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s carriage.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This flattering observation banished everything else from their
+          thoughts, and made Kaatje&rsquo;s task an easy one. It was now a
+          simple matter for her to allay their fears. They were no longer
+          concerned to know where Walter <i>had been</i>. It was enough that he
+          was now in Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s carriage.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ate breakfast at the doctor&rsquo;s? Girl, you don&rsquo;t say
+          so! And&mdash;and&mdash;why isn&rsquo;t the coachman wearing his furs?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Kaatje was dumbfounded and could only stammer some reference to the
+          season. In fact, the manner in which her message was being received
+          strengthened her worst suspicions of Walter&rsquo;s sanity. It seemed
+          to her that the entire family was a little &ldquo;off.&rdquo; <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb284" href="#pb284">284</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And he really ate breakfast at the doctor&rsquo;s? Do you
+          understand, Trudie? Ate breakfast at Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, he ate breakfast with us. To be sure he did. The doctor
+          himself said so.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;At Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s, and ate breakfast there?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, certainly. Where else?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And did he use the good manners I&rsquo;ve taught him?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course, Juffrouw! But&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And is he now in the carriage with the doctor?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, Juffrouw&mdash;naturally!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Listen, my dear,&rdquo; continued the proud mother, &ldquo;I am
+          going to tell you something; but you need not repeat it to anybody
+          else. Don&rsquo;t you know, that&rsquo;s an unusual child!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; sighed Kaatje, thoroughly convinced, &ldquo;I know
+          it.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You know it, don&rsquo;t you? And do you know why? I&rsquo;m
+          going to tell you. He&rsquo;s an unusual child, because&mdash;Pietro,
+          move away a little, and you, too, Mina. Trudie, you can stay where you
+          are, but pay attention to your knitting!&mdash;he&rsquo;s an unusual
+          child, don&rsquo;t you know, because, before he was born, you
+          understand&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, Juffrouw!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, my dear, I dreamed of a butterfly; and it was dragging off
+          an elephant! You understand now?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, yes, Juffrouw. I understand exactly.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see? That&rsquo;s the reason. Give the doctor
+          my politest regards, and thank him for me. If <span class="pagenum">[<a
+          id="pb285" href="#pb285">285</a>]</span>he&rsquo;s only well-behaved&mdash;I
+          mean Walter. And the coachman wears such a fur cap only in the winter?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Kaatje managed to escape, fully resolved never to dream of elephants
+          and butterflies. Such an indulgence seemed to her to be particularly
+          dangerous; for she now began to think in all seriousness that the
+          whole family was crazy, and that what she had seen in Walter was
+          merely a sample of the general disorder.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          When a few hours later the doctor himself stopped at Juffrouw Pieterse&rsquo;s,
+          her joy over Walter&rsquo;s exaltation know no bounds. Holsma took
+          note of the stupid woman&rsquo;s foibles and follies, and resolved to
+          prescribe an intellectual diet for Walter that would counteract their
+          influence.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Poor Juffrouw Laps! If she had only known how happily everything had
+          turned out, how much worry she might have spared herself! In the
+          seclusion of her own room she was still quoting the Bible and fighting
+          for her honor. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb286" href="#pb286">286</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch32" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXXII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The reader is now invited to return to the theatre party, from which
+          he was called suddenly away by the anxiety experienced in certain
+          quarters over Walter&rsquo;s disappearance.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The family took their seats, in the parquet this time, having had to
+          give up their box to visiting potentates. The box was still
+          unoccupied.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A comedy!&rdquo; Walter thought. He looked about him and
+          listened.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The house was crowded, and everyone was talking. Backstairs gossip and
+          court scandals were passed around. People were wondering who would sit
+          there, and who would sit <i>there</i>. Later arrivals were pushing at
+          one another and quarreling about seats.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The programs for the princes are printed on silk. What do you
+          suppose it cost a yard?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Rotgans is one of the first poets!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Hm! Better say one of the second.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He&rsquo;s a poet of the seventh class.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Why, then, one of his plays? We have poets whose song is as
+          clear as a bell!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of course, Bilderdyk! A Ph&oelig;nix!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, these foreigners don&rsquo;t understand a word of it
+          anyway, and it doesn&rsquo;t make any difference what the play is.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a pity about Floris.&rdquo; <span class="pagenum"> [<a
+          id="pb287" href="#pb287">287</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, there&rsquo;s something behind that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Bilderdyk is a patriot.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A genuine Hollander!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A genuine&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He will give those foreigners something to think about.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh!&mdash;&mdash; ... not much flattery. No Hollander is going
+          to do that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Everybody stood up. A footman appeared in the royal box, probably to
+          see whether the cushions were straight on the chairs, or not.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The idea, the very idea of standing up before a lackey!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          It was enough to make them indignant; but they had done it, even those
+          who protested loudest. There were city aldermen in the number, and
+          doctors, and professors, and prominent business men, including,
+          perhaps, the great Kopperlith.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Another period of babbling and waiting; then another footman appeared.
+          Again everybody sprang to his feet. Again all, except the silent
+          Holsmas, railed at such stupidity.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The crowd became more restless. Innumerable times were they fooled by
+          some footman or other, who opened a door to break the monotony. The
+          people were already beginning to complain, but softly, cautiously.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was carried away with the elegance and magnificence of it all.
+          One thing, however, jarred upon his sense of propriety: he wondered
+          how such swell folk could say such commonplace things. The <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb288" href="#pb288">288</a>]</span>Holsmas
+          said nothing. Only once, when Uncle Sybrand pointed to a certain box,
+          did they join in the general hubbub.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She will sit there, I think.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I shall be sorry if I have left little Erich all for nothing,&rdquo;
+          said Mevrouw Holsma.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;He&rsquo;s safe with Femke.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, but I had rather be with him myself. The child is sick. I&rsquo;m
+          not going to wait much longer.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It&rsquo;s doubtful whether she will come with the others. I&rsquo;ve
+          heard that she&rsquo;s full of moods and mischief. She cares nothing
+          for convention. It seems to run in the blood.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If she isn&rsquo;t here by ten o&rsquo;clock I&rsquo;m going. I
+          don&rsquo;t care much about it, anyway.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This conversation occupied Walter for a short time. Who was this
+          person on whose account Mevrouw Holsma had left the bedside of her
+          sick child?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The tension of expectancy was broken, and a momentary excitement
+          pulsed through the multitude. All arose to their feet, and remained
+          standing.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          An emperor, or something of the kind, entered the royal box. Walter
+          could see little; but he inferred what was going on from whisperings
+          he heard about him. His majesty had made a quick rush for his chair,
+          turning over a few other chairs in so doing. That was a habit of his.
+          Then he looked about the auditorium for a moment with squinted eyes,
+          jerked up his chair and fell into it. He was in a hurry. The public
+          was now at liberty to take their seats.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The other boxes were now filled quickly, as if by a stroke of magic.
+          Remarkable costumes were on <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb289"
+          href="#pb289">289</a>]</span>exhibition. There were bodices three
+          inches wide, with skirts of as many yards. Voluptuous bosoms hovered
+          between chin and girdle. Scanty sleevelets did not know whether they
+          were to cover arms or shoulders. The ladies wore kid gloves reaching
+          to their armpits, and on their heads were turbans and flower-gardens.
+          The uniforms of the gentlemen were even more conspicuous. Those
+          shakos! The enemy would have run at the sight of them.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The orchestra began to play. It was that song about the brave Dunois,
+          of course.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Arise!&rdquo; someone called; and all scrambled to their feet
+          again in honor of the brave hero.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The curtain went up.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Yes, Minos, on the present that I gave to thee&mdash;&mdash;
+          </p>
+          <p class="line">
+            &rsquo;Twas stolen from the church&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;What church?&rdquo; asked Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Sh!&rdquo; from William. &ldquo;Poetic license. You will see
+          how it is.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &rdquo;&mdash;&mdash;hangs Nisus&rsquo; crown and life.&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;<span lang="fr">Qu&rsquo;est-ze qu&rsquo;elle changte?</span>&rdquo;
+          cried the countess-palatine. Then she let herself out on costumes,
+          speaking in a noisy voice.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter listened like a finch. Not that he understood very well; but
+          everything strange interested him intensely.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Not a soul was touched by the tragic bravery of King Minos; no one was
+          listening. Poor Rotgans! Afterwards it was said that Napoleon had been
+          especially pleased with &ldquo;our Snoel&rdquo; and with &ldquo;our
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb290" href="#pb290">290</a>]</span>Watlier.&rdquo;
+          Goodness, Napoleon! When he was to be crowned he had Talma the mimic
+          to drill him for the ceremony&mdash;instead of saying to Talma:
+          &ldquo;Look, this is the way an emperor appears when he&rsquo;s
+          crowned!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter listened attentively; even though he sometimes felt that he
+          could make such verses himself.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          During the performance another commotion arose. One of their majesties
+          had asked for a glass of orange lemonade; and this was something the
+          buffetier did not have. A runner was dispatched to the drug-store post
+          haste. He returned with a bottle of lemon-syrup. The situation became
+          threatening. The news spread like fire that they were making a &ldquo;Majesty&rdquo;
+          wait for such a trifle. King Minos declared:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Feelings of pleasure thrill my inner man&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;<span lang="fr">De l&rsquo;eau de fleur d&rsquo;orange! que
+          diantre!</span>&rdquo; cried a chamberlain. And Minos noticed that
+          nobody was interested in what was going on in his interior.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A confectioner up on &ldquo;Olympus&rdquo; allowed his light to flash
+          out and gave some valuable information; but the police had him by the
+          collar in a jiffy. He was to be dragged away and put in confinement
+          for the present. The technical charge was, &ldquo;Making a
+          demonstration for the House of Orange.&rdquo; At that time the House
+          of Orange was in exile, and Napoleon&rsquo;s brother was king of
+          Holland.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Feelings of pleasure thrill my inner man&mdash;&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          repeated Minos with gusto. The conductor of the orchestra seized his
+          baton and was going to play, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb291"
+          href="#pb291">291</a>]</span>&ldquo;Hail to the Emperor.&rdquo; Many
+          stood up in readiness to escape in case of danger.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          In the meantime the prisoner was screaming as if he were possessed;
+          but the two Italian police that Napoleon had brought with him could
+          not understand a word.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The emperor himself had forgotten that he had called for orange water
+          and was now engrossed in a military map.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Qu&rsquo; a-t-il?&rdquo; he seemed to be asking the lady next
+          to him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Minos had begun again and was once more repeating his assurance that
+          &ldquo;feelings of pleasure thrill&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter noted that the grown-up members of the Holsma party did not pay
+          the slightest attention to the play.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;If she doesn&rsquo;t come soon, I&rsquo;m going,&rdquo; Mevrouw
+          Holsma repeated.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Perhaps she&rsquo;s sitting further back in the emperor&rsquo;s
+          box, where we can&rsquo;t see her.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve heard that in Paris she never stays fifteen minutes
+          in the same place. Maybe we shall find her somewhere else,&rdquo;
+          remarked another.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I am not going to wait but five minutes longer. My little Erich
+          is worth more to me than a thousand cousins&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Of the king,&rdquo; added Holsma.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter had thought that they meant Femke. What, then, could be so
+          interesting about the princess? The boxes were full of them.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At the close of the third act Mevrouw Holsma left with Uncle Sybrand,
+          who was to return with Femke. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb292"
+          href="#pb292">292</a>]</span>&ldquo;If she will come,&rdquo; he said.
+          &ldquo;For she cares nothing for such a fuss.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter knew better. Uncle Sybrand ought to have seen her in the
+          &ldquo;Juniper Berry.&rdquo; But a knight tells no tales.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Old Minos is insanely in love with Ismene, who is so beautiful and
+          virtuous. Scylla is insanely in love with Minos, who is old and
+          dignified. Ismene is in love with Focus, who is a hero; and, possibly,
+          Focus loves Ismene, though he does not treat her quite gallantly. He
+          says to her:
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they&rsquo;re odious!<span
+            class="corr" id="xd0e6328" title="Not in source">&rdquo;</span>
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          The tumult on Mount Olympus began afresh. Had the rebellious
+          confectioner returned? All eyes were directed toward the gallery. A
+          policeman in uniform was seen remonstrating in vain with some men on
+          the front seat. In order to make them understand his French, or
+          Italian, he was pulling at their arms. They were to understand that he
+          did not want to arrest them, or kill them, but merely wanted them to
+          give up their seats.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they&rsquo;re odious!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Qu&rsquo; y a-t-il encore?&rdquo; asked the emperor again; and,
+          when one of the chamberlains answered his question, he laughed
+          heartily. Heads were together everywhere. Something interesting was
+          going forward on Mount Olympus. People whispered and tittered and
+          laughed outright. Their eyes were fastened on the gallery. Even the
+          emperor stood up and leaned out of his box. But it did no good: he
+          could not see around the corner. He was surprised at this. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb293" href="#pb293">293</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The countess-palatine, however, had got to the bottom of the matter.
+          She was exchanging telegraphic messages with someone in the background
+          on Mount Olympus. No one was thinking of Rotgans&rsquo; play.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          She was greeting someone with that famous fan. Whom? The rebellious
+          confectioner? With arms extended she was testifying that there was
+          something extraordinary up there among that rabble.
+        </p>
+        <div class="poem">
+          <p class="line">
+            &ldquo;Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they&rsquo;re odious!&rdquo;
+          </p>
+        </div>
+        <p>
+          The countess-palatine threw off all restraint, and laughed and
+          laughed. After the emperor had laughed hilarity was permissible. Her
+          pleasure was beyond her control.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          I should have to have a double pen to report what Uncle Sybrand said
+          on his return, and, at the same time, reproduce the exclamation that
+          escaped Walter, who was looking towards the gallery with eyes and
+          mouth wide open.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Where is Femke?&rdquo; asked Holsma.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;She didn&rsquo;t want to come,&rdquo; replied Uncle Sybrand.
+          &ldquo;Just as I said.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There she is!&rdquo; cried Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Who?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Femke, M&rsquo;neer, Femke, Femke&mdash;that is Femke! And she&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl above had taken hold of the policeman by the collar and,
+          pushing him to one side, had pressed forward to the front row. There
+          she had seated herself on the laps of the fellows the policeman had
+          been <span class="corr" id="xd0e6361" title="Source: negotiationg">
+          negotiating</span> with in vain. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb294"
+          href="#pb294">294</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;It is Femke, M&rsquo;neer. If only they don&rsquo;t hurt her!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again the emperor stood up and stared at Mount Olympus. He saw the
+          girl with the North Holland cap and nodded to her. The
+          countess-palatine greeted again with her fan, as if she would
+          congratulate her on securing the seat.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, M&rsquo;neer, it is Femke,&rdquo; cried Walter, amazed
+          that he received no answer.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Even Holsma and Sybrand were surprised, but not so much so as Walter.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Now, children,&rdquo; said Holsma, &ldquo;you can tell your
+          mother that we saw her.&rdquo; And to Walter he continued, &ldquo;That
+          girl is a relation of ours.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, Femke!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, that isn&rsquo;t her name; and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;M&rsquo;neer, don&rsquo;t I know Femke?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That sounded quite different from what Walter had said that evening
+          when he &ldquo;denied&rdquo; her.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The girl&rsquo;s big blue eyes, roving about the hall, suddenly fell
+          on Walter. She bent over, looked him attentively in the face, then
+          nodded to him and threw him a kiss.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          At least, he thought it was that way; and it was that way. But
+          everyone in the parquet thought that the kiss had been intended for
+          him. Folk of quality were annoyed at the insolence of the peasant
+          wench; while more &ldquo;sporty&rdquo; persons returned the attention.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Soon hissing was heard. The news had leaked out that Princess Erika,
+          the cousin of the king, had dressed in the national costume to show
+          her affection for the people. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb295"
+          href="#pb295">295</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you believe it, M&rsquo;neer? I tell you that is
+          Femke,&rdquo; Walter assured him with tears in his eyes.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No, no, my boy. That girl is not Femke.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But, she greeted me!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You saw the emperor greet her; and you know he would not salute
+          a wash-girl.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was perhaps true; but it was hard for Walter to accept it. And,
+          on the other hand, it was just as hard for him to believe that the
+          princess was a cousin of the Holsmas.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again he imagined that the girl was nodding to him and motioning her
+          lips. It looked to him as if she said: &ldquo;My brother!&rdquo;
+          Walter lisped the words after her and pressed both hands to his
+          breast.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Yes, now he had it! They considered him a little daft and wanted to
+          cure him of his fixed idea. That would explain the visit to the
+          theatre and also Femke&rsquo;s alleged unwillingness to come with
+          Uncle Sybrand. But&mdash;how did she dare to interfere with the
+          policeman? And the greeting from the emperor? And how did Holsma know
+          that he had &ldquo;denied&rdquo; Femke, and that her presence could
+          threaten his peace of mind?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, M&rsquo;neer, let Femke sit here! I will be perfectly
+          quiet. I am so afraid she will get hurt up there among those men.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Holsma looked at him wistfully. After all, could Kaatje have been
+          right about it? He sought to distract Walter&rsquo;s attention by
+          referring to other things; but it was useless.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Holsma at last &ldquo;I just wanted to
+          tease you a little. Femke is sitting up there, because <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb296" href="#pb296">296</a>]</span>she&mdash;doesn&rsquo;t
+          wish to sit here. She thinks that it wouldn&rsquo;t be proper, because
+          she&rsquo;s only a wash-girl. She&rsquo;s afraid we would be ashamed.
+          You see?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;M&rsquo;neer, no one need be ashamed to sit by her. Not even
+          the emperor.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; agreed Holsma. &ldquo;Quite so. Femke is a
+          brave girl and doesn&rsquo;t need to cringe before anybody. Watch the
+          play, my boy.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was willing to do what the doctor said, but not without taking
+          leave of that glorious apparition. He looked up; and she smiled to him
+          again. Then she took from her breast a rose branch, with three buds on
+          it, held it <span class="corr" id="xd0e6418" title="Not in source">a</span>
+          moment between the forefinger and thumb of her left hand, pointed to
+          Walter with her right and let it fall.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The rosebuds landed on the bald pate of a stout gentleman near the
+          Holsma party. He seized them and examined them admiringly; but, before
+          he could decide what to do with them, Walter had sprung over half a
+          dozen chairs and deprived him of the precious property. With a glance
+          toward Olympus, Walter pressed the roses to his lips. Princess Erika
+          nodded approval; and the playful countess-palatine applauded lustily.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          That was more than Walter could bear. He had never forgiven himself
+          for denying her; but she, the noble, the big-hearted, the majestic
+          one!&mdash;she had proclaimed her pardon publicly before the people.
+          And that was why she preferred to sit in the gallery. She had washed
+          away the black spots from his soul; she had restored his soiled
+          chivalry. These thoughts flashed through Walter&rsquo;s mind like
+          lightning. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb297" href="#pb297">297</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          He sank to the floor in a faint. But was it any wonder?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The Holsmas took him home with them for the night; and another message
+          was sent to Juffrouw Pieterse.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see, Stoffel? Just as I said! I don&rsquo;t
+          care if <span class="corr" id="xd0e6432" title="Source: eveybody">
+          everybody</span> knows it. He&rsquo;s simply living at Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s.
+          Trudie, don&rsquo;t forget when Leentje goes to the grocer&rsquo;s&mdash;&mdash;
+          Upon my soul, he&rsquo;s at Dr. Holsma&rsquo;s all the time!&rdquo;
+          <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb298" href="#pb298">298</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div id="ch33" class="div1">
+        <span class="pagenum"> [<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
+        <h2 class="normal">
+          Chapter XXXIII
+        </h2>
+        <p>
+          The next morning, Sunday, the doctor invited Walter into his study. He
+          spoke to him sympathetically and encouraged the boy to lay his case
+          before him; though he avoided everything that might make Walter
+          believe that his experiences were anything extraordinary. He already
+          knew more about it than Walter could tell. Even Walter&rsquo;s
+          adventure with Juffrouw Laps was perfectly transparent to him. There
+          was nothing lost to him because of the boy&rsquo;s lack of skill in
+          handling the story.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          While Walter poured out to him his inner experiences, Holsma listened
+          quietly, as if it was all familiar to him. Walter&rsquo;s reverence
+          and passion for the good he interpreted as a commonplace phenomenon
+          incident to budding youth. He treated the boy&rsquo;s love for Femke
+          as an ordinary matter. He admitted that it had been exactly the same
+          way with him when he was a boy&mdash;a method that few parents and
+          educators seem to be familiar with.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly, certainly, my boy. In such moods a fellow would like
+          to be everywhere at the same time, ruling, regulating and putting
+          things into order. He feels that he&rsquo;s responsible for
+          everything; and it hurts him to see so much crookedness in the world.
+          I know very well how it is. But you must consider the means <span
+          class="pagenum"> [<a id="pb299" href="#pb299">299</a>]</span>and
+          remedies at your disposal. How are you going to begin to improve
+          things?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter was silent.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do you think that everyone is bad? I suppose you hardly think
+          that. There are plenty of people in the world who wish for the same
+          things that you are worrying about. Why don&rsquo;t they change the
+          world?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Again Walter was silent. The very simplicity with which Holsma put the
+          question disconcerted him.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will try to help you out. Do you believe that I am a good
+          man?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, yes!&rdquo; cried Walter enthusiastically.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;You think so? Well, I think so too. I should be ashamed not to
+          be able to say that. Why don&rsquo;t I reform the world? You often
+          speak of Africa. That&rsquo;s because you don&rsquo;t know that
+          country, my boy. And I, who am a good man, have not abolished slavery.
+          Why not, do you suppose?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter returned no answer. Holsma was busy with a surgical operation.
+          Is it any wonder that the patient tried to withdraw the member that
+          was being cut away?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will present the matter to you differently. Do you hear that
+          knocking and hammering? Listen! That comes from the blacksmith&rsquo;s
+          shop over there. It isn&rsquo;t so bad on Sunday; but you can easily
+          imagine that the noise sometimes disturbs me.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;In case of sickness!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, and also when I wish to think. And then I should like to
+          see the blacksmiths swept away&mdash;quick&mdash;just like that! But
+          why don&rsquo;t I do it?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb300"
+          href="#pb300">300</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Because&mdash;because you can&rsquo;t, M&rsquo;neer.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Quite right. For the same reason I have not yet corrected any
+          of the wrongs in Africa. Nor in Asia; nor in America; nor in other
+          countries that I might mention. But yesterday evening, when you were
+          taken sick in the theatre, I brought you home with me and put you to
+          bed. Then I sent a messenger to quiet your mother. That was my duty,
+          wasn&rsquo;t it?
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;No thanks, my boy. It seemed to me to be my duty; and I did it&mdash;because
+          I could. Whatever is impossible, is not my duty; and that&rsquo;s the
+          reason I don&rsquo;t take those blacksmiths between my thumb and
+          forefinger and transport them to some other clime. For the same reason
+          I don&rsquo;t fret over doings in Africa. Impossible duty is no duty;
+          and running after the impossible interferes with the performance of
+          real duties. At school did you ever fail to know a lesson?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh yes, very often! But not lately; because Femke&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Leave Femke out of account for the present. I may say something
+          about her another time. When you were neglecting your books at school,
+          you were thinking of other things, things far removed from your work.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;That is a mistake that many young people make&mdash;don&rsquo;t
+          be offended: I did the same thing&mdash;and usually on account of
+          laziness. It is more convenient to imagine one&rsquo;s self soaring
+          over the distant mountain top than to lift a foot and step over the
+          stone just in front of one. Of all the million things that you would
+          like to do there are only a very few that you can do. <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb301" href="#pb301">301</a>]</span>Busy
+          yourself with these few. That is the way to succeed. Whatever comes
+          up, always ask: &lsquo;What is my immediate duty?&rsquo; Will you
+          promise to do this?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter gave Holsma his hand on it.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;And you would like to know more, my boy? I would, too. What
+          lies before you? Well, you are behind in your studies. Other boys of
+          your age know more. We will speak of that again, however; for that is
+          something to be attended to later, and does not come under the head of
+          immediate duty. That smattering of Latin, for which you envy William,
+          you can acquire in a few months, when once you&rsquo;ve learned how to
+          use your will. The enemies you have to fight now are quite different
+          from the knights of your romances. Do not underestimate the
+          difficulties you will have to contend with. That might result in your
+          defeat. You must learn to use your intellectual faculties at will; and
+          keep a firm grip on &lsquo;Fancy,&rsquo; or else she will throw you
+          head over heels. Dreaming is not living.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Walter nodded assent.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;True manliness,&rdquo; Holsma continued, &ldquo;means, to do
+          what has to be done, no difference how insignificant it may be. What
+          would you think of a lot of knights, who let tramps beat them over the
+          heads because their code of honor did not allow them to fight with
+          tramps? You are going into business now: come to me in a month and
+          tell me if you have kept your word. Then we will speak further; but&mdash;that
+          first! Will you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Certainly I shall keep my word, M&rsquo;neer. But, M&rsquo;neer,
+          may I ask&mdash;&mdash;?&rdquo; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb302"
+          href="#pb302">302</a>]</span>
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;About Femke? Well, that is a good, brave girl. She&rsquo;s a
+          cousin of mine.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;But how did she happen to be&mdash;&mdash;?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;The young lady in the theatre wasn&rsquo;t Femke. That was
+          Princess Erika. We wanted to see her because her ancestors were
+          related to ours. You rogue, you! There was nothing special about that.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;A real princess?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes; and Femke is a real wash-girl. I hope that Princess Erika
+          has as admirable a character as Femke. But don&rsquo;t attribute too
+          much importance to this, my boy. Such differences in related families
+          are of frequent occurrence, whether one notices them, or not. There
+          was a time when Erika&rsquo;s forefathers dressed themselves in skins;
+          and mine did the same. We don&rsquo;t know whether she is aware that
+          she has relations here or not. Uncle Sybrand found out&mdash;well, he
+          takes a sort of pleasure in tracing out the identity of opposites.
+          Rightly understood, the world is smaller than you imagine; everything
+          is a link in the same sequence. Who knows but that you may turn the
+          course of history to-morrow, when you go to work for&mdash;what is the
+          style of the firm?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ouwetyd &amp; Kopperlith.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, when you go to work for Ouwetyd &amp; Kopperlith. But,
+          whether it&rsquo;s to be an historical event, or not, perform your
+          immediate duty. That is the chivalrous, manly thing for you to do&mdash;if
+          you will take my advice. Will you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, M&rsquo;neer! But&mdash;Femke?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;There you go again! She has nothing to do with <span
+          class="pagenum">[<a id="pb303" href="#pb303">303</a>]</span>your
+          immediate duty. The lady that you must attend upon and serve
+          faithfully is&mdash;who?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Do <span class="corr" id="xd0e6515" title="Source: your"> you</span>
+          mean &lsquo;Business&rsquo;?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Right. If you are determined to know more about Femke, I will
+          tell you what she says. She says that for the present you must think
+          of nothing but your work.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Oh, I will, I will!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;For about ten years.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ten years? Ten?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, that is what she said when she heard how little you know
+          and how little you can do.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ten years?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Yes, that is what she said. Perhaps eight, perhaps twelve,
+          perhaps twenty. One cannot say exactly beforehand. You understand
+          that, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Ten years!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;So she said.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;I will!&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          &ldquo;Good. It will give me pleasure&mdash;and Femke, too. Don&rsquo;t
+          imagine it will be particularly difficult. Ten years ago thousands
+          began just where you will begin to-morrow; and they are still alive.
+          So, you see, it can be done. Besides, think only of the first month;
+          and then the time will seem shorter. I shall expect you to come to see
+          me in about a month; then we shall have more to say.&rdquo;
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          Before Walter left, he promised again to banish all boyish follies
+          from his thoughts. But he put away the rosebuds; and he kept them.
+        </p>
+      </div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="back">
+      <div class="transcribernote">
+        <h2>
+          Colophon
+        </h2>
+        <h3>
+          Availability
+        </h3>
+        <p>
+          This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+          almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+          re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+          with this eBook or online at <a class="exlink" title="External link"
+          href="http://www.gutenberg.org/">www.gutenberg.org</a>.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          This eBook is produced by the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+          <a class="exlink" title="External link" href="http://www.pgdp.net/">
+          www.pgdp.net</a>.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          The text is based on the scans made available by Google Books <a
+          class="exlink" title="External link"
+          href="http://books.google.com/books?id=dqAuAAAAMAAJ">1</a> and <a
+          class="exlink" title="External link"
+          href="http://books.google.com/books?id=nC5MAAAAMAAJ">2</a>. The first
+          set of scans are also available via the <a class="exlink"
+          title="External link"
+          href="http://www.archive.org/details/walterpietersea00multgoog">
+          Internet Archive</a>.
+        </p>
+        <p>
+          A Dutch version, <i><a class="pglink"
+          title="Link to Project Gutenberg ebook"
+          href="http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/23796">Woutertje Pieterse</a></i>
+          is also available in Project Gutenberg. Note that due to the
+          complicated publication history of this work, as explained in the
+          introduction here, this text only partly corresponds to the Dutch
+          version. Furthermore, the translator has taken certain liberties in
+          omitting materials.
+        </p>
+        <h3>
+          Encoding
+        </h3>
+        <h3>
+          Revision History
+        </h3>
+        <ol class="lsoff">
+          <li>
+            2009-09-28 Started.
+          </li>
+        </ol>
+        <h3>
+          External References
+        </h3>
+        <p>
+          This Project Gutenberg eBook contains external references. These links
+          may not work for you.
+        </p>
+        <h3>
+          Corrections
+        </h3>
+        <p>
+          The following corrections have been applied to the text:
+        </p>
+        <table width="75%" summary="Overview of corrections applied to the text.">
+          <tr>
+            <th>
+              Page
+            </th>
+            <th>
+              Source
+            </th>
+            <th>
+              Correction
+            </th>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e511">2</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &ldquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e514">2</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &rdquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e554">4</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              be
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e622">10</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              ,
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              :
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e857">25</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              arrangemnet
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              arrangement
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e955">32</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Pickeled
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Pickled
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1140">43</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              for
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              if
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1211">44</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              aquiescence
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              acquiescence
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1308">47</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &ldquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1431">54</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              ,
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1470">55</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              .
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              ,
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1551">59</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              resectable
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              respectable
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1620">63</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              interupt
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              interrupt
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2035">79</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              undestand
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              understand
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2111">82</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Price
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Prince
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2265">89</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &rdquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2330">91</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              indiscribable
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              indescribable
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2819">113</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              H&uuml;lshoff
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Hulshoff
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2822">113</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Hellendoorm
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Hellendoorn
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2854">115</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              ,
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              .
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2999">126</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &ldquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3066">129</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              neighbourhood
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              neighborhood
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3079">129</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              come
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              came
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3409">144</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              By
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              by
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3440">146</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              know
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              known
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3490">148</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Bilderdijk
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Bilderdyk
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3497">149</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Riding-hood
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Riding Hood
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3980">178</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              minature
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              miniature
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4168">189</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Juffrow
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Juffrouw
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4214">194</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &ldquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4250">196</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              spirts
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              spirits
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4696">216</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &rdquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4729">218</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              parobolic
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              parabolic
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4780">220</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Sietska
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              Sietske
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4915">227</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              family, the female part, of course, was still in the
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              young people need during eight hours without suf
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5104">237</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              women
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              woman
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5165">240</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              way
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              away
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5175">240</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &ldquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5559">256</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              ,
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              .
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5600">258</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              descendent
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              descendant
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5971">275</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &rdquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e6049">279</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              stupdity
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              stupidity
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e6328">292</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              &rdquo;
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e6361">293</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              negotiationg
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              negotiating
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e6418">296</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              [<i>Not in source</i>]
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              a
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e6432">297</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              eveybody
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              everybody
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+          <tr>
+            <td>
+              <a class="pageref" href="#xd0e6515">303</a>
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              your
+            </td>
+            <td>
+              you
+            </td>
+          </tr>
+        </table>
+      </div>
+    </div>
+
+<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WALTER PIETERSE ***</div>
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diff --git a/old/old/30135.txt b/old/old/30135.txt
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Walter Pieterse, by Multatuli
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
+
+
+Title: Walter Pieterse
+       A Story of Holland
+
+Author: Multatuli
+
+Translator: Hubert Evans
+
+Release Date: September 29, 2009 [EBook #30135]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WALTER PIETERSE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+http://www.pgdp.net/ (This book was produced from scanned
+images of public domain material from the Google Print
+project.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                            Walter Pieterse
+                           A Story of Holland
+
+                                  By
+                               Multatuli
+                         (Eduard Douwes Dekker)
+
+                             Translated by
+                          Hubert Evans, Ph. D.
+
+
+
+                                New York
+                           Friderici & Gareis
+                       6 East Seventeenth Street
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                            Copyright, 1904,
+                                   By
+                           Friderici & Gareis
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+Most of us know that The Hague is somewhere in Holland; and we all
+know that Queen Wilhelmina takes a beautiful picture; but to how many
+of us has it occurred that the land of Spinoza and Rembrandt is still
+running a literary shop?
+
+How many of us have ever heard of Eduard Douwes Dekker? Very few,
+I fear, except professional critics. And yet, the man who, forty
+years ago, became famous as Multatuli (I have borne much), was not
+only the greatest figure in the modern literature of the Netherlands,
+but one of the most powerful and original writers in the literature
+of the world. An English critic has called him the Heine of Holland;
+Anatole France calls him the Voltaire of the Netherlands.
+
+Eduard Douwes Dekker was born in 1820, at Amsterdam, his father being
+the captain of a merchantman trading in the Dutch colonies. At the age
+of eighteen Dekker sailed on his father's vessel for the East Indies,
+determined to abandon the business career that had been mapped out for
+him and enter the colonial service. In 1839 he received a clerkship
+in the civil service at Batavia. He now remained in the employ of
+the government for seventeen years, being promoted from one grade to
+another until he was made Assistant Resident of Lebak in 1856.
+
+In this important position he used his influence to better the
+condition of the natives; but, to his sorrow, he soon found that he
+did not have the support of his superiors. What he conceived to be
+right clashed with the line of conduct he was expected to follow. In
+a rash moment of "righteous indignation" he handed in his resignation;
+and it was accepted.
+
+This hasty step put an end to a brilliant political career and entailed
+upon Dekker years of disappointment and hardship. Seeing that he was
+pursuing the wrong method to help either the Javanese, or himself,
+he immediately tried to get reinstated, but without success. In 1857
+he returned to Holland and applied to the home government, hoping to
+be vindicated and restored to his post. Again he was disappointed. The
+government offered him another desirable position; but, as it was a
+matter of principle with Dekker, he declined it.
+
+When he saw that it was useless to importune the government further,
+Dekker made his appeal to the people in "Max Havelaar" (1860). The book
+was an instant success and made the name of Multatuli famous. Through
+the perfidy of a supposed friend, however, Dekker failed to get very
+substantial material rewards from this work. For ten years yet he
+was struggling with poverty.
+
+The Bohemian life that Dekker was now compelled to live--his family
+was on the sufferance of friends--estranged him from his wife and
+strengthened what some might call an unfortunate--or, at least, an
+untimely--literary friendship that Dekker had formed with a certain
+Miss Mimi Schepel, of The Hague. The spiritual affinity between the
+two soon developed a passion that neither could resist. This estimable
+lady, who afterwards became Dekker's second wife, is still living,
+and has edited Dekker's letters in nine volumes. Dekker died in
+February, 1887, at his home in Nieder-Ingelheim, where he had lived
+for several years.
+
+The "Woutertje Pieterse" story was first published in Dekker's
+seven volume work entitled "Ideen." Here it is sandwiched in between
+miscellaneous sketches, essays and treatises, being scattered all
+the way from Vol. I to Vol. VII. The story falls naturally into two
+parts, of which the present volume is the first part. The second part,
+written in a different key, deals with "Walter's Apprenticeship."
+
+A good deal of the flax, or silk, of his Chinaman's pigtail, to use
+Dekker's form of expression, I have unraveled as being extraneous
+matter. However, despite these omissions, it is quite possible that
+some very sensitive person may still find objectionable allusions in
+the book. If so, I must refer that one to the shade of Multatuli. From
+his own admission his shoulders were evidently broad; and, no doubt,
+they will be able to bear the additional strain.
+
+
+                                                        Hubert Evans.
+
+New York City,
+    November, 1904.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                                   Page
+
+Chapter I
+
+    The origin of the story: regarding poetry, incurable love,
+    false hair, and the hero of the story--The dangers of fame and
+    the advantage of the upper shelf--The Chinaman's pigtail, and
+    the collar of humanity                                            1
+
+Chapter II
+
+    An Italian robber on the "Buitensingel" in Amsterdam--The bitter
+    suffering of the virtuous Amalia--Wax candles, the palisades of
+    morality--The cunning of the little Hallemans--The limitations
+    of space                                                          9
+
+Chapter III
+
+    The difference between a sugar bowl and a Bible--Leentje's virtues
+    and defects--An unfounded suspicion against Pennewip's honor     18
+
+Chapter IV
+
+    The profound silence of Juffrouw Laps--Stoffel's sermon--Walter's
+    fidelity to Glorioso--The last king of Athens--Ruined stomachs
+    and bursted ear-drums                                            24
+
+Chapter V
+
+    How one may become a great man--The cleverness of
+    M'sieu Millaire--Versifying and the art of classifying
+    everything--Hobby-horses                                         27
+
+Chapter VI
+
+    Preparations for a party--The assignment of roles--The conflict
+    between wishing and being--Some tricks of fancy--The two
+    sawmills--Amalia and the ducks                                   34
+
+Chapter VII
+
+    Poetry and wigs--The vexation and despair of the latter          42
+
+Chapter VIII
+
+    A tea-evening, and how it began--Some gaps in the author's
+    knowledge--Stoffel's zoological joke--The cause of the last Punic
+    war--And the advantage of smoking                                48
+
+Chapter IX
+
+    Echoes of the last Punic war--The defeat of Hannibal (Laps)
+    by Scipio (Pennewip)                                             61
+
+Chapter X
+
+    Causes of the tedious peace in Europe, showing the value
+    of a "tea-evening" as a study--Specimens of school-verse
+    concluded--Suitable for society poets and clever children        68
+
+Chapter XI
+
+    Report on the condition of the leading characters after the
+    catastrophe--Walter again: a character-study                     75
+
+Chapter XII
+
+    Leentje as a comforter and questioner--Prince Walter and his
+    dominions                                                        80
+
+Chapter XIII
+
+    Convincing proofs of Walter's improvement--His first invitation--A
+    study in love--Paradise and Peri                                 87
+
+Chapter XIV
+
+    Great changes in the Pieterse family--Walter becomes poet-laureate
+    at the court of Juffrouw Laps--The mountains of Asia--The bridge,
+    Glorioso, and love--again                                       102
+
+Chapter XV
+
+    Walter's dream--A swell coachman--Juffrouw Laps's difficulties
+                                                                    117
+
+Chapter XVI
+
+    Femke hunts for Walter, and finds him under peculiar
+    circumstances--Her adventures by the way                        125
+
+Chapter XVII
+
+    The widower's birthday--Klaasje's poem, and how a surprise may
+    involve further surprises                                       132
+
+Chapter XVIII
+
+    Walter's recovery--The doctor's pictures--Amsterdam dramaturgy
+                                                                    138
+
+Chapter XIX
+
+    Pastors, sermons, and Juffrouw Laps--Chocolate, timidity, and
+    love--The fire that didn't break out--Some details of religious
+    belief                                                          150
+
+Chapter XX
+
+    Our hero calls on the doctor--Some strange happenings--How Walter
+    delivered his present                                           161
+
+Chapter XXI
+
+    Ophelia reaches her destination, and Femke becomes a
+    queen--Walter's first experience "proposing"--Choosing a
+    profession                                                      170
+
+Chapter XXII
+
+    Walter enters the real world--The firm Motto, Business & Co.--The
+    technique of the novel--And the snuff of the Romans             180
+
+Chapter XXIII
+
+    How one may become a "prodigal" by studying the story of the
+    Prodigal Son                                                    194
+
+Chapter XXIV
+
+    Why Walter did not see Femke--The worldliness of a servant of
+    the church--The secret of Father Jansen's deafness in his left
+    ear                                                             201
+
+Chapter XXV
+
+    Kings and doughnuts--How the masses soar and fall--Walter's
+    cowardice and remorse of conscience--A good remedy for the
+    blues                                                           211
+
+Chapter XXVI
+
+    Our hero retires thinking of Princess Erika, to be aroused
+    by robbers and murderers, who are in collusion with Juffrouw
+    Laps                                                            225
+
+Chapter XXVII
+
+    Walter alone with a pious lady, or Juffrouw Laps on the war-path
+                                                                    240
+
+Chapter XXVIII
+
+    A midnight kiss--A wonderful statue in the "Juniper Berry"--
+    Republicans and True Dutch hearts--A sailor with--Femke?        245
+
+Chapter XXIX
+
+    Sunrise on the "Dam"--An exciting encounter with a water-nymph--A
+    letter from heaven--America, a haven for prodigal sons          260
+
+Chapter XXX
+
+    A message from Femke, which Walter fails to understand--Dr. Holsma
+    to the rescue--Femke and family portraits--Femke, and once more
+    Femke                                                           270
+
+Chapter XXXI
+
+    Stoffel's view of the matter--Juffrouw Laps's distress, and
+    Juffrouw Pieterse's elation--Elephants and butterflies, and
+    Kaatje's conception of heredity                                 279
+
+Chapter XXXII
+
+    A theatrical performance under difficulties--The contest between
+    Napoleon and King Minos of Crete--A Goddess on Mt. Olympus--Kisses
+    and rosebuds                                                    286
+
+Chapter XXXIII
+
+    Conclusion                                                      298
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+WALTER PIETERSE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+I don't know the year; but, since the reader will be interested to
+know the time when this story begins, I will give him a few facts to
+serve as landmarks.
+
+My mother complained that provisions were dear, and fuel as well. So
+it must have been before the discovery of Political Economy. Our
+servant-girl married the barber's assistant, who had only one
+leg. "Such a saving of shoe-leather," the good little soul argued. But
+from this fact one might infer that the science of Political Economy
+had already been discovered.
+
+At all events, it was a long time ago. Amsterdam had no sidewalks,
+import duties were still levied, in some civilized countries there were
+still gallows, and people didn't die every day of nervousness. Yes,
+it was a long time ago.
+
+The Hartenstraat! I have never comprehended why this street should
+be called thus. Perhaps it is an error, and one ought to write
+Hertenstraat, or something else. I have never found more "heartiness"
+there than elsewhere; besides, "harts" were not particularly plentiful,
+although the place could boast of a poulterer and dealer in venison.
+
+I haven't been there for a long time, and I only remember that the
+Straat connects two main canal-streets, canals that I would fill up
+if I had the power to make Amsterdam one of the most beautiful cities
+of Europe.
+
+My predilection for Amsterdam, our metropolis, does not make me
+blind to her faults. Among these I would mention first her complete
+inability to serve as the scene of things romantic. One finds here
+no masked Dominos on the street, the common people are everywhere
+open to inspection, no Ghetto, no Templebar, no Chinese quarter,
+no mysterious courtyard. Whoever commits murder is hanged; and the
+girls are called "Mietje" and "Jansje"--everything prose.
+
+It requires courage to begin a story in a place ending with
+"dam." There it is difficult to have "Emeranties" and "Heloises";
+but even these would be of little use, since all of these belles have
+already been profaned.
+
+How do the French authors manage, though, to dress up their "Margots"
+and "Marions" as ideals and protect their "Henris" and "Ernestes"
+from the trite and trivial? These last remind one of M'sieu Henri or
+M'sieu Erneste just about like our castle embankments remind one of
+filthy water.
+
+Goethe was a courageous man: Gretchen, Klaerchen----
+
+But I, in the Hartenstraat!
+
+However, I am not writing a romance; and even if I should write one,
+I don't see why I shouldn't publish it as a true story. For it is
+a true story, the story of one who in his youth was in love with a
+sawmill and had to endure this torture for a long time.
+
+For love is torture, even if it is only love for a sawmill.
+
+It will be seen that the story is going to be quite simple, in fact
+too frail to stand alone. So here and there I am going to plait
+something in with the thread of the narrative, just as the Chinaman
+does with his pigtail when it is too thin. He has no Eau de Lob or
+oil from Macassar--but I admit that I have never found at Macassar
+any berries which yielded the required oil.
+
+To begin, in the Hartenstraat was a book-shop and circulating
+library. A small boy with a city complexion stood on the step and
+seemed to be unable to open the door. It was evident that he was
+trying to do something that was beyond his strength.
+
+He stretched out his hand towards the door knob repeatedly, but
+every time he interrupted this motion either by stopping to pull
+unnecessarily at a big square-cut collar that rested on his shoulders
+like a yoke, or by uselessly lifting his hand to screen an ingenuous
+cough.
+
+He was apparently lost in the contemplation of the pictures that
+covered the panes of glass in the door, turning them into a model
+chart of inconceivable animals, four-cornered trees and impossible
+soldiers. He was glancing continually to one side, like a criminal
+who fears that he is going to be caught in the act. It was manifest
+that he had something in view which must be concealed from passers-by,
+and from posterity, for that matter. His left hand was thrust under
+the skirts of his little coat, clutching convulsively at something
+concealed in his trousers pocket. To look at him one would have
+thought that Walter contemplated a burglary, or something of the kind.
+
+For his name was Walter.
+
+It is a fortunate thing that it occurred to me to relate his history;
+and now I consider it my duty to report that he was entirely innocent
+of any burglarious or murderous intentions.
+
+I only wish I could clear him of other sins as easily as this. The
+object he was turning and twisting in his left breeches pocket was
+not a house-key, nor a jimmy, nor a club, nor a tomahawk, nor any
+infernal machine: It was a small piece of paper containing fourteen
+stivers, which he had raised on his New Testament with Psalms at
+the grocer's on the "Ouwebrug"; and the thing that held him fast on
+the Hartenstraat was nothing more or less than his entrance into the
+magic world of romance. He was going to read "Glorioso."
+
+Glorioso! Reader, there are many imitations, but only one Glorioso. All
+the Rinaldos and Fra Diavolos are not to be mentioned in the same
+breath with Glorioso, this incomparable hero who carried away
+countesses by the dozen, plundered popes and cardinals as if they
+were ordinary fallible people, and made a testament-thief of Walter
+Pieterse.
+
+To be sure, Glorioso was not to blame for this last, certainly not. One
+ought to be ashamed to be a hero, or a genius, or even a robber, if
+on this account one is to be held responsible for all the crimes that
+may be committed years afterwards in the effort to get possession of
+one's history.
+
+I myself object to any accusation of complicity in those evil deeds
+that are committed after my death in quenching the thirst for knowledge
+of my fate. Indeed, I shall never be deterred from a famous career
+merely by the thought that some one may sell the New Testament to
+get hold of the "Life and Deeds of Multatuli."
+
+"You rascal, what are you loitering around here for? If you want
+anything, come in; if you don't, make yourself scarce."
+
+And now Walter had to go in, or else abandon his cherished
+Glorioso. But the man who bent over the counter and twisted himself
+like a crane to open the door and snarl these words at our young hero
+did not have a face that advised anything like turning back. He was
+angry. At first Walter had not had the courage to go in; now he did
+not dare to turn back. He felt himself drawn in. It was as if the
+book-shop swallowed him.
+
+"Glorioso, if you please, M'neer, and here----" He drew that infernal
+machine from his pocket. "And here is money----"
+
+For he had learned from his schoolmates, who had infected him with
+this craving for romance, that at the circulating library strangers
+must deposit a forfeit.
+
+The shopman seemed to regard himself as "sufficiently protected"
+by the sum produced. He took down a small volume, which was greasy
+and well worn, and bore both within and without the traces of much
+unclean enjoyment.
+
+I am certain that the "Sermons of Pastor Splitvesel," which stood
+undisturbed on the top shelf and looked down contemptuously on
+the literature of the day, would have been ashamed to bring their
+spotless binding into contact with so much uncleanliness. But it is
+not difficult to remain clean in the upper row. I find, therefore,
+that the "sermons" were unjust; and the same is true of many sermons.
+
+After Walter had given his name to the man in a trembling voice, he
+stuck the reward of his misdeed under his coat and hurried out the
+door, like a cat making away with the prey for which it has waited
+for hours.
+
+Walter ran and ran, and did not know where to go. He couldn't go home;
+he was watched too closely there,--which was not very difficult,
+as the space was rather limited.
+
+He selected quiet streets and finally came to a gateway that he
+remembered to have seen several times. It was a low, smooth arch,
+where it always smelled like ashes. Here, as a truant, he had taken
+that leap! He was with Franz Halleman, who had dared him to cut sacred
+studies and jump from the top of this arch. Walter did it just because
+little Franz had questioned his courage.
+
+To this escapade he was indebted for his great familiarity with the
+prophet Habakkuk, whose prophecies he had to copy twelve times as
+a penalty. Further, the sprain that he got in his big toe on that
+occasion gave him a good barometer in that organ, which always warned
+him of approaching rain.
+
+In a certain sense Habakkuk is to be regarded as marking a transition
+in Walter's life, viz. from nursery rhymes to books which deal with big
+people. For some time he had felt his admiration for "brave Heinriche"
+to be growing; and he was disgusted with the paper peaches that are
+distributed as the reward of diligence in the beautiful stories. Of
+any other peaches he had no knowledge, as the real article was never
+seen in the houses he visited.
+
+Nothing was more natural than that he should most ardently long to
+talk with the older schoolboys about the wonders of the real world,
+where people ride in coaches, devastate cities, marry princesses,
+and stay up in the evening till after 10 o'clock--even if it isn't a
+birthday. And then at the table one helps one's self, and may select
+just whatever one wants to eat. So think children.
+
+Every boy has his heroic age, and humanity, as a whole, has worn the
+little coat with the big collar.
+
+But how far can this comparison be carried? Where does the
+identity stop? Will the human race become mature? and more than
+mature?--old? Feeble and childish?
+
+How old are we now? Are we boys, youths, men? Or are we
+already----? No, that would be too unpleasant to think of.
+
+Let us suppose that we are just in the exuberance of youth! We are
+then no longer children exactly, and still we may hope something of
+the future.
+
+Yes, of the future,--when this stifling school atmosphere has been
+blown away. When we shall take pleasure in the short jacket of the boy
+that comes after us; when people will be at liberty to be born without
+any legal permit, and will not be reviled for it; when humanity will
+speak one language; when metaphysics and religion have been forgotten,
+and knowledge of nature takes the place of noble birth. When we shall
+have broken away from the nursery stories.
+
+There is some silk for my Chinaman's pigtail. Some will say it is
+only flax.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Walter thought neither of the heroic age nor of Chinese cues. Without
+any feeling for the beauty of the landscape, he hurried along till
+he came to a bridge that spanned a marshy ditch. After looking about
+carefully to assure himself that he was alone, he selected this
+bridge for his reading-room, and proceeded at once to devour his
+robber undisturbed.
+
+For a moment I felt tempted to make the reader a participant of
+Walter's pleasure by giving a sketch of the immortal work that chained
+the boy's attention. But aside from the fact that I am not very well
+versed in Glorioso--which fact of itself, though, would not prevent me
+from speaking about him--I have many other things of a more urgent
+nature to relate, and am compelled therefore to take the reader
+directly to the Hartenstraat, hoping that he will be able to find
+his way just as well as if he had crossed the Ouwebrug--the old bridge.
+
+Suffice it to say that Walter found the book "very nice." The virtuous
+Amalia, in the glare of flaring torches, at the death-bed of her
+revered mother, in the dismal cypress valley, swearing that her ardent
+love for the noble robber--through the horrible trapdoor, the rusty
+chains, her briny tears--in a word, it was stirring! And there was
+more morality in it, too, than in all the insipid imitations. All the
+members of the band were married and wore gloves. In the cave was
+an altar, with wax tapers; and those chapters in which girls were
+abducted always ended with a row of most decorous periods, or with
+mysterious dashes--which Walter vainly held up to the light in his
+effort to learn more about it.
+
+He read to: "Die, betrayer!" Then it was dark, and he knew that it
+was time to go home. He was supposed to be taking a walk with the
+Halleman boys,--who were "such respectable children." With regret he
+closed the precious volume and hurried away as fast as he could, for
+he was afraid he was going to get a whipping for staying away so long.
+
+"You will never get permission again"--thus he was always threatened
+on such occasions. But he understood, of course, that they didn't mean
+it. He knew too well that people like to get rid of the children for
+a while when they are a little short of space at home. And then the
+little Hallemans were "such extraordinarily respectable children;
+they lived next to a house with a portico, and recently they had
+taken off their little caps so politely."
+
+Now, I don't believe that the Hallemans were any more respectable
+than other boys of Walter's acquaintance; and, as I would like to
+give some reasons for my belief, I am going to relate an incident
+that had happened some time before this.
+
+Walter never got any pocket-money. His mother considered this
+unnecessary, because he got at home everything that he needed. It
+mortified him to have to wait for an invitation to join in a game
+of ball with his companions, and then be reminded that he had
+contributed nothing towards buying the ball. In Walter's time that
+useful instrument of sport cost three doits--just a trifle. Now
+I suppose they are more expensive--but no, cheaper, of course, on
+account of Political Economy.
+
+On many occasions he was depressed by reason of this lack of money. We
+shall see later whether what his mother said was true, or not: that he
+received at home everything he needed. It is certain that at home he
+never had the privilege of doing with some little thing as he pleased,
+which is very nice for children. And for grown-up people, too.
+
+The Hallemans--who were so especially respectable--gave him to
+understand that they had no desire to bear all the expenses. Franz
+calculated that Walter's friendship had already cost them nine
+stivers, which I find high--not for the friendship, but merely
+as an estimate. Gustave said it was still more; but that is a
+detail. Gustave, too, had let him have four slate pencils, that he
+might court "the tall Cecilia," who wouldn't have anything to do with
+him because he wore a jacket stuck in his trousers--the kind small
+boys wore then. She accepted the pencils, and then made Gustave a
+present of them for a kiss.
+
+The reproaches of the little Hallemans, who were so very respectable,
+almost drove Walter to despair.
+
+"I have told my mother, but she won't give me anything."
+
+The little Hallemans, who were so respectable, said: "What's that
+you're giving us? You're a parasite."
+
+This was the first time Walter had ever heard the word, but he knew
+what it meant. Nothing sharpens the wits like bitterness of heart.
+
+"A parasite, a parasite--I'm a parasite," and he ran off screaming,
+making a detour in order to avoid the street where Cecilia's father
+had a second-hand store. Oh, if she had seen him running through
+the street crying like a baby--that would have been worse than the
+breeches pulled up over his jacket!
+
+A parasite, a parasite!
+
+He met lots of grown-up people who perhaps were parasites, but they
+were not bawling on this account.
+
+Parasite!
+
+He saw a policeman, and caught his breath when he got by him, surprised
+that the man hadn't arrested him.
+
+Parasite!
+
+Then came a street-sweeper with his cart, who seemed to rattle that
+hateful word after him.
+
+Our little sufferer remembered that the Halleman boys had once told
+him what a fortune could be made by peddling peppermint drops. For
+twenty-four stivers one could buy a big sack full. By selling so
+and so many for a doit, the profit would be enormous. If one only
+had the capital to begin! The Hallemans had calculated everything
+very exactly; for they were not only very respectable, but also very
+cunning. Cunningness and respectability usually go hand in hand. They
+had said, all that was needed was the capital. They would attend to
+laying in the stock, and would assume all responsibility for the sale
+of the same. If Walter would chip in just a florin, they could raise
+the rest and all would go well.
+
+Parasite.... Parasite....
+
+Walter slipped a florin from his mother's box of savings and brought
+it to the Halleman boys, who were so remarkably respectable.
+
+"Where did you get it?" asked Gustave, but careful not to give Walter
+time to answer, or to fall into an embarrassing silence.
+
+"Where did you get it?"--without any interrogation point--"fine! Franz
+and I will each add one like it. That'll make twenty-four, and then
+we'll buy the peppermints. There's a factory on the Rosengracht--such
+a sack for four shillings. Franz and I will do everything. We'll
+have more opportunity at school, you understand. Christian Kloskamp
+has already ordered twelve; he'll pay after the holidays. We'll take
+all the trouble; you needn't do anything, Walter--and then an equal
+divide. You can depend upon it."
+
+Walter went home and dreamed of unheard-of wealth. He would put a
+dollar in his mother's savings-bank, and buy for Cecilia a lead pencil
+from the man who had picked holes in the wood-work of his wagon with
+them. So strong were they! That would be something entirely different
+from those slate pencils; and if the tall Cecilia still wouldn't
+have him, then--but Walter did not care to think further. There are
+abysses along the path of fancy that we do not dare to sound. We see
+them instinctively, close the eyes and--I only know that on that
+evening Walter fell asleep feeling good, expecting soon to have a
+good conscience over his little theft and hoping that Cecilia would
+give him a happy heart.
+
+Alas, alas! Little Walter had made his calculations without taking into
+consideration the slyness and respectability of the Hallemans. They
+lay in wait for him the next day as he came from school. Walter,
+who had painted to himself how they would be panting under the
+weight of the great sack; Walter, who was so anxious to know if
+Christian Kloskamp had taken what he had ordered; Walter, who was
+burning with curiosity as to the success of the venture--oh, he was
+bitterly disappointed. Gustave Halleman not only carried no sack of
+peppermints. What's more, he had a very grave face. And little Franz
+looked like virtue itself.
+
+"Well, how is everything?" Walter asked, but without saying a word. He
+was too curious not to ask, and too fearful to express the question
+otherwise than by opening his mouth and poking out his face.
+
+"Don't you know, Walter, we've been thinking about the matter; and
+there's a lot to be said against the plan."
+
+Poor Walter! In that moment both his heart and his conscience suffered
+shipwreck. Away with your dreams of ethical vindication, away with
+the gaping money-boxes of mothers--away, lead pencil that was to
+bore a hole in the hard heart of the tall Cecilia--gone, gone, gone,
+everything lost.
+
+"You see, Walter, the mint-drops might melt."
+
+"Y-e-s," sobbed Walter.
+
+"And Christian Kloskamp, who ordered twelve--don't you know----"
+
+"Y-e-s."
+
+I wonder if Christian was likely to melt too.
+
+"He is leaving school, and will certainly not return after the
+holidays."
+
+"H-e-e i-i-s?"
+
+"Yes, and for that reason, and also because there are not anything like
+so many to the pound as we had thought. Mint-drops are heavy. We've
+calculated everything, Franz and I."
+
+"Yes," added little Franz, with the seriousness of one giving
+important advice in a time of great danger, "the things are very
+heavy at present. Feel this one; but you must give it back to me."
+
+Walter weighed the mint-drop on his finger and returned it
+conscientiously.
+
+He found it heavy. Ah, in this moment he was so depressed that he
+would have found everything heavy.
+
+Franz stuck the piece of candy into his mouth, and sucking at it
+continued:
+
+"Yes, really, very heavy. These are the English drops, you know. And
+then there is something else, too, isn't there, Gustave? The propriety,
+the respectability! Tell him, Gustave."
+
+"The respectability," cried Gustave, significantly.
+
+"We mean the respectability of it," repeated Franz, as if he were
+explaining something.
+
+Walter looked first from one to the other, and did not seem to
+comprehend.
+
+"You tell him, Gustave."
+
+"Yes, Walter, Franz will tell you," said Gustave.
+
+"Walter, our papa is a deacon, and carries a portfolio, and there
+where we live is a----"
+
+"Yes," cried Gustave, "there on the Gracht, you know, lives M'neer
+Krulewinkel. He has a villa----"
+
+"With a portico," added Franz.
+
+"It's just on account of our standing--don't you see, Walter? And
+when a visitor comes our mother brings out the wine."
+
+"Yes, Maderia, Maderia! And our tobacco-box is silver, and----"
+
+"No, Franz, it isn't silver; but, Walter, it looks just like silver."
+
+Our poor little sinner understood all of this, but he failed to see
+what bearing it might have on his own disappointed hopes. He stuttered:
+"Yes, Gustave--yes, Franz--but the peppermint----"
+
+"We just wanted to tell you that we are very respectable, don't
+you see?"
+
+"Yes, Gustave."
+
+"And well-behaved."
+
+"Y-e-e-s, Franz." Poor Walter!
+
+"And then as you said you never got any pocket-money----"
+
+"Yes, Walter--and don't you know? Because our papa is so
+respectable--when winter comes you can see how he looks after the
+orphans."
+
+"Yes, and he rings at every door. And--and--we are afraid, that
+you----"
+
+"That you----"
+
+"The florin----"
+
+"The florin! You understand?"
+
+"That you didn't get it----"
+
+"That you didn't get it honestly. That's it," said Franz, sticking
+another mint-drop into his mouth, perhaps to brace himself up.
+
+It was out at last. Poor, miserable Walter.
+
+"And on that account, Walter, we would rather not keep the money,
+but just divide now--equally, as we all agreed."
+
+"Yes," cried Gustave, "divide equally. The work--we--you understand?"
+
+They divided the profits. And the Hallemans were sleek about
+it. Twenty-four stivers; three into twenty-four goes eight times,
+therefore----
+
+Walter received eight stivers.
+
+"Don't you see," explained Gustave, "we couldn't do it, because our
+papa is a deacon."
+
+"Yes--and our tobacco-box, even if it isn't pure silver, it's just
+like silver."
+
+My lack of faith in the extreme respectability of the Hallemans
+is based upon the foregoing story; and I am inclined to think that
+all this "respectability" of which Walter heard so much at home was
+only an excuse on his mother's part to get him out of the way. For
+there was a lack of room. If she had wanted to use Walter about the
+house, it is questionable if she had discovered anything especially
+respectable about those boys.
+
+Many laws and most customs have their origin in a "lack of room"--in
+the intellect, in one's character, in the house or flat, in the fields,
+in the city.
+
+This applies to the preference for the right hand--a result of
+crowding at the table--to the institution of marriage, and to many
+things lying between these extremes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+We will not try to explain further this fruitful principle of
+"limitation of space." Walter knew the fruit of it, even if he failed
+to recognize the origin. He was not worried so much by the mere coming
+home as by the punishment he expected to receive as soon as that New
+Testament should be missed. He had returned from his little excursion
+into the country with Glorioso, and now in Amsterdam again the memory
+of his recent offense--or shall I say the anticipation of what was
+coming?--lay heavily on his mind.
+
+If we could think away all the results of crime committed, there
+would be very little left of what we call conscience.
+
+But Walter consoled himself with the thought that it wasn't a thimble
+this time. The testament will not be missed at once, he reflected,
+because Sunday was a long way off, and no one would ask about it
+during the week.
+
+No, it was not a thimble, or a knitting-needle, or a sugar-bowl,
+or anything in daily use.
+
+When our hero got home, he stuck his greasy Glorioso under Leentje's
+sewing-table--the same Leentje who had sewed up his breeches after
+that wonderful leap, so that his mother never found out about it. She
+went down to her grave in ignorance of these torn breeches.
+
+But Leentje was employed to patch breeches and such things. She
+received for this seven stivers a week, and every evening a slice of
+bread and butter.
+
+Long after the Habakkuk period, Walter often thought of her humble
+"Good-evening, Juffrouw; good-evening, M'neer and the young Juffrouwen;
+good-evening, Walter," etc.
+
+Yes, Walter's mother was called Juffrouw, on account of the
+shoe-business. For Juffrouw is the title of women of the lower middle
+classes, while plain working women are called simply Vrouw. Mevrouw
+is the title of women of the better classes. And so it is in the
+Netherlands till to-day: The social structure is a series of classes,
+graduated in an ascending scale. Single ladies are also called
+Juffrouw, so that Juffrouw may mean either a young lady or a young
+matron--who need not necessarily be so young. The young Juffrouwen
+were Walter's sisters, who had learned how to dance. His brother
+had been called M'neer since his appointment as assistant at the
+"intermediate school," a sort of charity school now no longer in
+existence. His mother had spliced his jacket that he might command
+the respect of the boys, and remarked that the name "Stoffel" scarcely
+suited him now. This explains why Leentje addressed him as M'neer. To
+Walter she simply said Walter, for he was only a small boy. Walter
+owed her three stivers, or, to be exact, twenty-six doits, which he
+never did pay her. For, years afterward, when he wanted to return the
+money to her, there were no more doits; and, besides, Leentje was dead.
+
+This pained him very much, for he had thought a great deal of her. She
+was ugly, even dirty, and was stoop-shouldered, too. Stoffel, the
+schoolmaster, said that she had an evil tongue: She was thought to
+have started the report that he had once eaten strawberries with
+sugar in the "Netherlands." This was a small garden-restaurant.
+
+I am willing to admit the truth of all this; but what more could one
+expect for seven stivers and a slice of bread and butter? I have known
+duchesses who had larger incomes; and still in social intercourse
+they were not agreeable.
+
+Leentje was stooped as a result of continuous sewing. Her needle
+kept the whole family clothed; and she knew how to make two jackets
+and a cap out of an old coat and still have enough pieces left for
+the gaiters that Stoffel needed for his final examination. He fell
+through on account of a mistake in Euclid.
+
+With the exception of Walter nobody was satisfied with Leentje. I
+believe they were afraid of spoiling her by too much kindness. Walter's
+sisters were always talking about "class" and "rank," saying that
+"everyone must stay in his place." This was for Leentje. Her father
+had been a cobbler who soled shoes, while the father of the young
+Juffrouwen had had a store in which "shoes from Paris" were sold. A
+big difference. For it is much grander to sell something that somebody
+else has made than to make something one's self.
+
+The mother thought that Leentje might be a little cleaner. But I am
+going to speak of the price again, and of the difficulty of washing
+when one has no time, no soap, no room, and no water. At that time
+waterpipes had not been laid, and, if they had been, it's a question
+if the water had ever got as far as Leentje.
+
+So, everyone but Walter had a spite against Leentje. He liked her,
+and was more intimate with her than with anyone else in the house,
+perhaps because the others could not endure him, and there was nothing
+left for him to do but to seek consolation from her. For every feeling
+finds expression, and nothing is lost, either in the moral or in the
+material world. I could say more about this, but I prefer to drop the
+subject now, for the organ-grinder under my window is driving me crazy.
+
+Walter's mother called him, "That boy." His brothers--there were
+more beside Stoffel--affirmed that he was treacherous and morose,
+because he spoke little and didn't care for "marbles." When he did say
+anything, they attributed to him a relationship with King Solomon's
+cat. His sisters declared he was a little devil. But Walter stood
+well with Leentje. She consoled him, and considered it disgraceful
+that the family didn't make more out of such a boy as Walter. She
+had seen that he was not a child like ordinary children. And I should
+scarcely take the trouble to write his story if he had been.
+
+Up to a short time after his trip to Hartenstraat, Ash Gate and the
+old bridge, Leentje was Walter's sole confidant. To her he read
+the verses that slender Cecilia had disdained. To her he poured
+out his grief over the injustice of his teacher Pennewip, who gave
+him only "Fair," while to that red-headed Keesje he gave "Very good"
+underscored--Keesje who couldn't work an example by himself and always
+"stuck" in "Holland Counts."
+
+"Poor boy," said Leentje, "you're right about it." They went over into
+the Bavarian house. It's a disgrace! And to save a doit on the pound.
+
+She claimed that Keesje's father, who was a butcher, let Pennewip
+have meat at a reduced price, and that this was what was the matter
+with all those Holland counts and their several houses.
+
+Later Walter looked upon this as a "white lie," for Pennewip, when
+examined closely, didn't look like a man who would carry on a crooked
+business with beefsteak. But in those days he accepted gladly this
+frivolous suspicion against the man's honor as a plaster for his own,
+which had been hurt by the favoritism towards Keesje. Whenever our
+honor is touched, or what we regard as our honor, then we think little
+of the honor of others.
+
+When his brothers jeered at him and called him "Professor Walter,"
+or when his sisters scolded him for his "idiotic groping among
+the bed-curtains," or when his mother punished him for eating up
+the rice that she intended to serve again "to-morrow"--then it was
+always Leentje who restored the equilibrium of his soul and banished
+his cares, just as, with her inimitable stitches, she banished the
+"triangles" from his jacket and breeches.
+
+Ugly, dirty, evil-tongued Leentje, how Walter did like you! What
+consolation radiated from her thimble, what encouragement even in
+the sight of her tapeline! And what a lullaby in those gentle words:
+"There now, you have a needle and thread and scraps. Sew your little
+sack for your pencils and tell me more of all those counts, who always
+passed over from one house into another."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+I don't know what prophet Walter got as punishment for that pawned
+Bible. The pastor came to preach a special sermon. The man was simply
+horrified at such impiousness. Juffrouw Laps, who lived in the lower
+anteroom, had heard about it too. She was very pious and asserted
+that such a boy was destined for the gallows.
+
+"One begins with the Bible," she said significantly, "and ends with
+something else."
+
+No one has ever found out just what that "something else" is which
+follows a beginning with the Bible. I don't think she knew herself,
+and that she said it to make people believe that she possessed much
+wisdom and knew more about the world than she gave utterance to. Now,
+I admit that I have no respect for wisdom that cannot express itself
+in intelligible words, and, if it had been my affair, I should have
+very promptly drawn a tight rein on Juffrouw Laps.
+
+Stoffel delivered an exhortation in which he brought out all that had
+been forgotten by the preacher. He spoke of Korah, Dathan and Abiram,
+who had erred similarly to Walter and had been sent to an early grave
+for their sins. He said too, that the honor of the family had been
+lost at the "Ouwebrug," that it was his duty, "as the eldest son of an
+irreproachable widow and third assistant at the intermediate school,
+to take care of the honor of the house----"
+
+"Of Bavaria," said Leentje softly.
+
+That "a marriage, or any other arrangement for the girls, would be
+frustrated by Walter's offence, for no one would have anything to do
+with girls who----"
+
+In short, Stoffel accented the fact that it was "a disgrace," and that
+"he would never be able to look anyone in the face who knew of this
+crime." He remarked distinctly that the schoolboys must know of it,
+for Louis Hopper had already stuck out his tongue at him!
+
+And finally, that he "shuddered to cross the new market-place"--in
+those days criminals were scourged, branded and hanged here--because
+it reminded him so disagreeably of Juffrouw Laps's horrible allusion
+to Walter's fate.
+
+Then followed all sorts of things about Korahs, Dathans and Abirams,
+whereupon the whole family broke out in a wail. For it was so pathetic.
+
+Walter comforted himself with thoughts of Glorioso, and, whenever that
+"something else" of Juffrouw Laps was spoken of, he just dreamed of
+his marriage with beautiful Amalia, whose train was carried by six
+pages. I fancy Juffrouw Laps would have made a pretty face if she
+had learned of this interpretation of her mysterious climax.
+
+All efforts to compel our hero to tell how he had spent that money were
+in vain. After all known means had been applied, the attempt to force a
+confession had to be abandoned. Water and bread, water without bread,
+bread without water, no water and no bread, the preacher, Stoffel,
+Habakkuk, Juffrouw Laps, tears, the rod--all in vain. Walter was not
+the boy to betray Glorioso. This was what he had found so shabby of
+Scelerajoso, who had to pay the penalty, as we have seen.
+
+As soon as he got the privilege of walking again with the Hallemans,
+who were so eminently respectable, he hurried away to the old bridge,
+near Ash Gate, to continue his thrilling book. He read up to that
+fatal moment when he had to tell his hero good-bye, and on the last
+page saw Glorioso, as a major-general, peacefully expire in the arms
+of the virtuous Alvira.
+
+When Walter had returned the book to Hartenstraat his eye was attracted
+by some almond-cakes at the confectioner's on the corner. He did with
+Glorioso just as the Athenians did with Kodrus: No one was worthy to
+be the successor of such a hero, and within a few days the residue
+of the New Testament had been converted into stomach-destroying pastry.
+
+I ought to add that a part of the "balance" left after that Italian
+excursion--perhaps the part contributed by the Psalms--was invested
+in a triple-toned, ear-splitting, soul-searing harmonica, which was
+finally confiscated by Master Pennewip as being a disturbing element
+in the schoolroom.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+I don't feel called upon to pass judgment on the strife between
+Leentje and Pennewip regarding the latter's partiality towards Keesje,
+the butcher's son. But that fiery feeling for right and justice
+which has harrassed me from my earliest youth--ah, for years have I
+waited in vain for justice--and the foolish passion for hunting after
+mitigating circumstances, even when the misdeed has been proved--all
+this compels me to say that Pennewip's lot might be considered a
+mitigating circumstance for a man convicted of the eight deadly sins.
+
+I have found that many great men began their careers as feeders of
+hogs (see biographical encyclopedias); and it seems to me that this
+occupation develops those qualities necessary in ruling or advancing
+mankind.
+
+If the theologists should happen to criticise this story, and perhaps
+accuse me of far-reaching ignorance, because I enumerate one cardinal
+sin more than they knew of, or of the crime of classifying man as
+a sort of hog, I reply that, still another new canonical sin could
+be discovered that they have never studied. And that ought to be as
+pleasing to them as influenza is to the apothecary.
+
+New problems, gentlemen, new problems!
+
+And as for our relationship with pigs, just consider the relation
+of coal to diamond, and I think everyone will be satisfied--even
+the theologists.
+
+What a magnificent prospect anyone has who spends his tender youth
+with those grunting coal-diamonds of the animal world! But I have
+often wondered that in the "Lives of Famous Men" we so seldom read of
+a school-teacher, for in the school all the ingredients of greatness
+are abounding.
+
+The reverse is more often true. Every day we see banished princes
+teaching lazy boys. Dionysius and Louis Philippe are not the only
+ones. I myself once tried to teach an American French. It was no go.
+
+If it should ever become customary again to elect kings, I hope the
+people will elect such persons as have studied men, just as one studies
+Geography on globes or maps. All virtues, propensities, passions,
+mistakes, misdeeds, knowledge of which is so indispensable in human
+society, can be studied much better in the schoolroom. The field is
+restricted, and can be taken in more readily. The famous statecraft
+of many a great man, if the truth were known, had its origin in that
+old tripping trick, which is everything to the three-foot Machiavellis.
+
+The task of a schoolmaster is not an easy one. I have never understood
+why he is not better paid, or, since this must be so, why there are
+still men who prefer to teach, when on the same pay they might be
+corporals in the army, and teach the use of firearms, which offers
+fewer headaches and more fresh air.
+
+I would even rather be a preacher; for he does work with people who are
+interested and come to hear him of their own free will. The teacher
+has to fight continually with indifference, and with the extremely
+dangerous rivalry of tops, marbles, and paper-dolls--not to speak of
+candy, scarlatina and weak mothers.
+
+Pennewip was a man of the old school. At least he would seem so to
+us if we could see him in his gray school jacket and short trousers
+with buckles, and his brown wig, which he was continually pushing
+into place. At the first of the week this was always curly, when it
+was not raining--rain isn't good for curls; and on Sundays "the man
+with the curling irons" came.
+
+Antiquated? But perhaps this is only imagination. Who knows? perhaps
+in his day he was quite modern. How soon people will say the same
+of us! At all events, the man called himself "Master" and his school
+was a school and not an "Institute." It is no advance to call things
+by other than their right names. In his school boys and girls sat
+together indiscriminately, according to the naive custom of those
+days. They learned, or might learn, Reading, Writing, Arithmetic,
+National History, Psalmody, Sewing, Knitting, and Religion. These
+were the order of the day, but if anyone distinguished himself by
+a show of talent, diligence or good behavior, that one received
+special instruction in versification, an art in which Pennewip took
+great pleasure.
+
+Thus he taught the boys till they were sufficiently advanced to be
+confirmed. With the help of his wife he gave the girls a "finishing
+course." They were graduated with a paternoster done in red on a black
+background, or perhaps a pierced heart between two flower-pots. Then
+they were through and ready to become the grandmothers of their
+own generation.
+
+There was no natural science then. Even to-day there is room for
+improvement along this line. It is said that some advance has been
+made recently. It is more useful for a child to know how corn grows
+than to be able to call the name of it in a foreign language. I don't
+say that either is incompatible with the other.
+
+The public schools were most deficient at the time when Walter and
+Keesje were slowly crawling around the arena of honor; but I doubt if
+one could say much more of the "institutes" of to-day. I would advise
+everyone to visit such a school as he attended when a boy; and I am
+convinced that after this test many a father who has the welfare of
+his children at heart will prefer to keep them at home. One comes to
+the conclusion, that after all in the school of clever Master Miller,
+who was so clever that he got himself addressed as M'sieu Millaire,
+precious little was to be learned.
+
+Failing to make this test we continue to believe in the infallibility
+of M'sieu of Millaire. We always consider that one a great man whom
+we have known in childhood and haven't seen since.
+
+When I remarked a moment ago that school-teachers are paid so
+niggardly, I didn't mean that their remuneration was insufficient,
+considering the quality and quantity of the goods delivered--knowledge,
+scholarship, education. I only had in mind the bitterness of their
+lot, and the poor indemnity given to the man who spends his life in
+a wasp's nest.
+
+In addition to versifying, Pennewip had still another hobby, which gave
+him more claim to a throne than did anything else. He was possessed
+with the mania for classifying, a passion known to few, but still of
+not infrequent occurrence. I have never quite understood the disease;
+and I gave up my search for the "first cause" as soon as I saw how
+difficult it is to get around with a hobby-horse taken from somebody
+else's stable. So I am going to give only a short sketch of Pennewip's
+harmless animal.
+
+Everything that he saw, perceived, experienced he divided into
+families, classes, genera, species and sub-species, and made of the
+human race a sort of botanical garden, in which he was the Linne. He
+regarded that as the only possible way to grasp the final purpose
+of creation and clear up all obscure things, both in and out of
+school. He even went so far as to say that Walter's New Testament
+would have turned up again if Juffrouw Pieterse had only been able
+to tell to what class the man belonged who had bound the volume in
+black leather. But that was something she didn't know.
+
+As for myself, I shouldn't have said a word about Pennewip's mania for
+classifying everything, if I hadn't thought it might help me to give
+the reader a better picture of our hero and his surroundings. I should
+have preferred to leave the said Pennewip in undisturbed intercourse
+with the muses; but we shall have occasion later to refer to his
+poetic art, when we shall quote some poems by his pupils.
+
+After the usual general division into "animate" and "inanimate"--the
+good man gave the human race only one soul--followed a system that
+looked like a pyramid. On the top was God with the angels and
+spirits and other accessories, while the oysters and polyps and
+mussels were crawling about down near the base, or lying still--just
+as they pleased. Half way up stood kings, members of school-boards,
+mayors, legislators, theologians and D.D.'s. Next under these were
+professors and merchants who do not work themselves. Then came
+doctors of things profane, i. e., those driving double rigs, also
+lawyers and untitled preachers, the Colonel of the City Militia,
+the Rector of the Latin School. Philosophers (only those who have
+developed a system), doctors with one horse, doctors without any
+horse and poets were further down. Rather low down, and not far from
+the mussels, was the seventh sub-division of the third class of the
+"citizen population." Our hero would come under this sub-section.
+
+
+    Citizen Population, Class III., 7th Sub-Division.
+
+    People Living in Rented Flats.
+
+    a. Entrance for tenants only. Three-window front. Two stories,
+    with back-rooms. The boys sleep alone, dress, however, with
+    the girls. Fresh straw in case a baby is born. Learning French,
+    poems at Christmas. The girls are sometimes called Lena or Maria,
+    but seldom Louise. Darning. The boys work in offices. One girl
+    kept, sewing-girl, and "person for the rough work." Washing
+    at home. Read sermons by Palm. Pickled pork on Sundays, with
+    table-cloth, liquor after coffee. Religion. Respectability.
+
+    b 1. Still three windows. One story. Neighbors live above who ring
+    twice (Vide b. 2). Leentje, Mietje; Louise heard seldom. House-door
+    opened with a cord, which is sleek from long use. Sleep in one
+    room. Straw-heaps in cases of confinement. One maid-servant
+    for everything. Sundays cheese, no liquor, but religion and
+    respectability as above.
+
+    b 2. Neighbors who ring twice. About as above. No maid, only a
+    "person for the rough work." Seamstress. White table-cloth. Cheese
+    from time to time, only occasionally. Religion as above.
+
+    c. One story higher. Two-window front. Small projecting
+    back-room. The entire family sleeps in two beds. No trace of
+    straw. The boys are called Louw, Piet, or Gerrit, and become
+    watchmakers or type-setters. A few become sailors. Continual
+    wrangle with the neighbors about the waste-water. Religion as
+    above. Associate with "respectable folk." Read "Harlemmer" with
+    III. 7, b. 2. No maid, or person for rough work, but a seamstress
+    on seven stivers and a piece of bread and butter.
+
+
+That brings us to Juffrouw Pieterse.
+
+The reader will now have a very good idea of Walter's environment, and
+will readily understand why I said he had a "city complexion." That
+was when we saw him in the Hartenstraat, on the road to fame, or on
+the road to that nameless "other thing" of Juffrouw Laps. At all
+events he was on his way to things that will occupy our attention
+for some time yet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+It was Wednesday, and the Pieterses were going to give a
+party. Juffrouw Laps had been invited, also the Juffrouw living
+over the dairy, whose husband was employed at the "bourse." Further
+Mrs. Stotter, who had been a midwife for so long and was still merely
+"very respectable." Then the widow Zipperman, whose daughter had
+married some fellow in the insurance business, or something of the
+kind. Also the baker's wife. That was unavoidable: it was impossible
+to buy all kinds of pastry and cakes without her finding out what
+was up. Then the Juffrouw living below and to the rear. Of course
+she wouldn't come, but the Pieterses wanted to show that they had
+forgotten the late quarrel over the broken window-pane. If she didn't
+come that was the end of the matter, so far as Juffrouw Pieterse was
+concerned. She would have nothing more to do with the Juffrouw from
+below. I may add that the lady from below did not come, and that her
+name was stricken from the calling-list of those higher up.
+
+The children were to go to bed early, with the promise of a cup of
+sage-milk for breakfast if they would not make any noise the entire
+evening. This drink largely took the place of tea then. It was thought
+that the "noise" made by children would not be appreciated. Walter
+got permission to go play with the Halleman boys, who were thought
+to be very respectable. He must be at home by eight o'clock; but this
+was said in a tone that gave him no cause to fear a reprimand in case
+he should stay out later. Laurens, who of course was an apprentice to
+a printer, and usually came home about seven o'clock in the evening,
+was big enough to be present with the guests, but must promise to sit
+still and drink only two glasses. The big girls were to be present
+as a matter of course: They had been confirmed. Stoffel presided. His
+business was to meet the gentlemen when they came for the ladies about
+ten o'clock, and entertain the company with stories of Mungo Park.
+
+Leentje was to remain till the people were all there, as it was so
+inconvenient to have to open the door every time. She could make
+herself useful in arranging the table and doing other things incident
+to such occasions. But she "must move about a little brisker,"
+otherwise they would prefer to do everything themselves.
+
+The eldest of the girls, Juffrouw Truitje, must look after the
+"sage-milk." Pietje had charge of the sandwiches; but Myntje was to
+see to it that the butter was spread a little thicker, for the last
+time the bread had been too dry.
+
+Everything was going to turn out so nicely, "if only Juffrouw
+Laps wouldn't talk so much." That was her failing. And, too, they
+hoped that the widow Zipperman would "brag a little less about her
+son-in-law." This was considered a source of weariness. And the
+Juffrouw who lived over the dairy "might be more modest." She had
+"never lived in such a fine house"; and as for the shop--that was no
+disgrace; and on the top floor--but one cannot tell how it will be.
+
+No one understood why the baker's wife used so many French words, which
+was not becoming in one of her station. "If she does it this evening,
+Stoffel, say something to me that she can't understand, then she will
+find out that we are not 'from the street,' that we know what's what."
+
+"It's all the same to me," Juffrouw Pieterse continued, "whether the
+Juffrouw downstairs comes or not. I don't care a fig about it.--Four,
+five--Louw can sit there, but he must keep his legs still--and a chair
+there--yes--so! It's a good thing she's not coming; it would have been
+too crowded. Leentje, go to work--do blow your nose! No, run over to
+Juffrouw Laps's and ask the Juffrouw if the Juffrouw could spare a
+few stools--without backs, you understand; because the chairs there
+by the chimney--yes, ask the Juffrouw for a few stools, and tell the
+Juffrouw that they are for me, and that I expect the Juffrouws about
+seven. Give my compliments to the Juffrouw and wipe your nose."
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse didn't like to use personal pronouns; it was
+impolite.
+
+On this afternoon Walter went to his bridge early. It was now not
+so useless as usual, for the rain of the day before had filled the
+ditch with water, which was even running, so that the straws which
+Walter thoughtlessly, or full of thought--both are about the same
+thing--threw into the water were carried down to the pond, where
+the logs lay that were to be sawed up by the "Eagle" and the "Early
+Hour." These were the names of the sawmills that for some weeks had
+been the witnesses of Walter's daydreams.
+
+Glorioso was gone, and could not be replaced; but on those afternoons
+when he was free Walter returned involuntarily to the spot where he had
+had his first glimpse of the world of romance. How rough and crude the
+colors in that first picture! Perhaps it was the very roughness of the
+colors that attracted him and changed him, till he could not conceive
+how he had ever found enjoyment in the little cakes on the corner.
+
+A peculiar prospective had opened up before him. He dreamed of things
+that he could not name; but they made him bitterly dissatisfied with
+his present condition. He was anxious to do everything prescribed
+to get to Heaven; but he thought it would be much easier to pray in
+such a cave with wax candles. And as for honoring his mother, a point
+upon which she always laid great stress--why didn't she have a train
+like the countess? Certainly he ought not to have sold the Bible;
+and he wouldn't do it any more--he had vowed it; but then he ought
+to have had a box filled with florins, and a feather in his cap,
+just as it was in the book.
+
+He was disgusted with his brother Stoffel, and his sisters, and
+Juffrouw Laps, and the preacher and everything. He couldn't understand
+why the whole family didn't go to Italy and form a respectable
+robber-band. But Pennewip and Keesje shouldn't go; that was certain.
+
+He wondered what had become of his verses. Every Wednesday such
+pupils as had been well-behaved, and, for that reason, deemed worthy
+to contest for the "laurel," handed in a poem written on some subject
+suggested by the teacher. This time the subject assigned to Walter was
+"Goodness," which probably had some reference to his former behavior,
+and was a hint for the improvement of his moral character. But Walter
+had already put goodness into rhyme so often, and found the subject so
+dry and tedious and worn-out that he had taken the liberty of "singing"
+something else. He selected the theme nearest his heart--robbers!
+
+Like all authors he was greatly infatuated with his work. He was
+convinced that the teacher, too, would see the excellencies of his poem
+and forgive him for deviating from the path of goodness. The verses
+would undoubtedly be sent to the mayor, and he would pass them on to
+the Pope, who would then summon Walter and appoint him "Court-robber."
+
+And thus he dreamed and threw his straws into the stream. They
+moved away slowly and disappeared between the moss-covered
+timbers. Involuntarily his fancy had transmuted them into the
+characters of his world of romance. There went the countess with
+her long train, which got caught in the moss and held the countess
+fast. The virtuous Amalia met with no better luck; she got tangled
+up in the water lentils. And now came Walter himself. He approached
+Amalia, in her green robes, and was just about to rescue her, when
+he was swallowed by a duck. This was most unkind of the duck, for
+it was Walter's last stalk of grass; and now in the rattling and
+buzzing of the sawmills below he could hear Amalia repeating in a
+reproachful voice:
+
+
+            "Warre, warre, warre, we;
+            Where is warre, warre, wall--
+            Walter, who will rescue me?"
+
+
+This annoyed him, and he could not resist the temptation to throw
+a rock at the duck whose greediness had caused Amalia to doubt his
+chivalry.
+
+The duck chose the better part, and retired after she had done Walter
+all the damage she could. But the sawmills paid no attention to these
+happenings and continued to rattle away.
+
+Walter heard now in the noisy clatter of the mills all kinds of songs
+and stories, and, listening to these, he soon forgot Amalia and the
+Pope. That the reader may not get a wrong impression of these mills,
+I hasten to say that there was really nothing extraordinary about
+them. They buzzed and rattled just like other sawmills.
+
+It often happens that we think we perceive something which comes from
+the external world, when in fact it is only a subjective product in
+ourselves. Similarly, we may think we have just imagined something,
+when really it came to us from the world of the senses.
+
+This is a kind of ventriloquism that often gives cause for annoyance
+and enmity.
+
+I wonder which turns the faster?--Walter listened to the mills. Now--I
+think--no, begin together. Good! No, the Eagle was ahead! Once
+more--now!
+
+Which will get there first? No, that won't do. Once more together. Look
+sharp, Morning Hour,--out again! I can't hold my eye on it--what a
+whirling and buzzing!
+
+You are tired, are you? I believe it.
+
+If I might only sit on such a big wing, wouldn't I hold on tight? And
+wouldn't the sawyer look?
+
+Why are you called "Morning Hour"? Have you gold in your mouth? And
+"Eagle"! Can you fly? Take me with you. What a big play-ground up
+there, and no school!
+
+I wonder how the first school began. Which came first, the school,
+or the teacher? But the first teacher must have attended a school. And
+the first school must have had a teacher.
+
+So the first school must have just started itself. But that is
+impossible. "Eagle," can you turn yourself?--with the wind? Can you
+turn yourself some other way? Try it. Beat "Morning Hour." Quick,
+quick--beautiful!
+
+Now, once more alone. Good!
+
+Now, together again! Karre, karre, kra, kra--stretch your arms out and
+take me with you. Will you? Put your hat on, Eagle; how the ribbons
+fly.--Who are you? Warre, warre, ware, wan--I can't help it; it was the
+duck. Tell me what your name is. Fanny, fanny, fanny, fan---- Is your
+name fan? And you, Morning Hour, what is your name? Ceny, ceny, ceny,
+ce. What kind of a name is Ce? Now together--sing a song together:
+
+
+            Fanny, fanny, fanny, fan--
+            Ceny, ceny, ceny, ce--
+            Fanny, ceny, fanny, ceny,
+            Fanny, ceny, fan--cy.
+
+
+Fancy--what do you mean by that? Is that the name of both of you? And
+what is it? Has it wings?
+
+"Morning Hour" and "Eagle" had fused into something that had wings
+and was called fancy.
+
+Fancy lifted Walter up and bore him away.
+
+When she brought him back to the bridge again it had already been
+dark for a long time. He shook himself as if he were wet, rubbed his
+eyes and started home. We shall see later what awaited him there;
+but first we must go back a few hours. I hope the reader will not
+disdain an invitation to Juffrouw Pieterse's. Remember that her
+husband never made anything, but bought everything ready-made in Paris.
+
+In passing by I should like to make Master Pennewip a short visit.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+School was out; and the seats looked as if the pupils had just left
+the tediousness of it all lying there. The map of Europe looked down
+peevishly on the heap of writing-pads. There lay the mutilated and
+well-worn goose-quills, which since time immemorial have opened up
+the gates of learning. True, the black-board vaunted itself with the
+heavy results of the last lesson in "fractions"; but the school was
+no more. The spirit had fled: It was a corpse.
+
+Yes, the "Geist" had gone out with the children; for the reader will
+see in a moment that they carried about with them a tremendous amount
+of that article.
+
+We already know that this was the great day when Pennewip was to
+criticise the poetical effusions of his young geniuses. There he sat,
+his restless wig sharing all the poetical feelings and emotions--and
+motions--of its owner. We will just look over his shoulder and read
+with him those inestimable treasures of poetic art; and perhaps we
+too shall be moved to emotion.
+
+Wig: In the middle, resting quietly.
+
+
+    Lucas de Bryer: "Our Native Land."
+
+    Cake and wine and native land,
+    Out in the moonlight I take my stand;
+    Our native land and cake and wine,
+    And I hope the moon will shine;
+    Five fingers have I on my hand,
+    All to honor our native land.
+
+
+"Melodious," said the teacher, "very melodious; and very profound. Cake
+and wine, with our native land as a climax."
+
+Wig: On the right side.
+
+
+    Lizzie Webbelar: "My Father's Vocation."
+
+    The cat is sly, I know;
+    My father is a dealer in Po-
+    Tatoes and onions.
+
+
+"Original, immediate! But I don't like the way she cuts her potatoes
+in twain."
+
+Wig: On the left side.
+
+
+    Jeanette Rust: "The Weather-cock."
+
+    He stands on the chimney since long ago,
+    And shows the wind which way to blow.
+
+
+"Smooth, but not quite correct, if examined closely--but I'll let it
+pass as poetic license."
+
+Wig: Down in front.
+
+
+    Leendert Snelleman: "Lent."
+
+    In Lent it is always nice,
+    My brother's birth-day is in May,
+    He says his feet need warming,
+    So that Lent we must be praising,
+    And then we're going to celebrate,
+    Easter brings eggs and a holiday.
+
+
+"It's too bad that he's so careless with his rhymes. His imagination
+is extraordinary. Very original."
+
+Wig: Down on his neck.
+
+
+    Keesje, the Butcher's Boy: "In Praise of the Teacher."
+
+    My father has slaughtered many a steer,
+    But Master Pennewip is still living, I hear;
+    Some are lean, and some are well-fed,
+    He has slipped his wig to the side of his head.
+
+
+The wig actually went to the side of his head.
+
+"Well, this is curious. I hardly know what to say about it."
+
+The wig slipped to the other side.
+
+"What's the connection between me and steers?"
+
+The wig protested vigorously against any implication of relationship
+with steers.
+
+"H--mm! Can it be that this is what our new-fangled writers call
+humour?"
+
+The wig sank down to his eyebrows, which signified doubt.
+
+"I will call up the boy and----"
+
+The wig passed again to the zenith, to express its satisfaction with
+the teacher's determination to interview the butcher's boy.
+
+
+    Lucas de Wilde: "Religion."
+
+    Religion very nice must be,
+    Much it pleases the people we see.
+
+
+"The fundamental idea is very beautiful," said the teacher, "but it
+ought to have been developed better."
+
+The wig nodded acquiescence.
+
+
+    Trudie Gier: "Juffrouw Pennewip."
+
+    The path of virtue she shows us each day,
+    And we are glad to go that way;
+    And as there's nothing to do more fitting,
+    She teaches us sewing, darning and knitting.
+
+
+The wig fairly leaped with pleasure, and the curls embraced one
+another. This out-pouring of Trudie's heart was borne at once to
+Juffrouw Pennewip, and was later hung by the fireplace in honor of
+the poetess and the subject of the poem.
+
+Then followed a sublime poem on God by Klaasje van der Gracht, the
+son of the Catechist. He was thirteen years old, and had not been
+vaccinated--out of regard for predestination.
+
+"If only his father didn't help him!"
+
+The wig was rigid with astonishment.
+
+
+    Louwtje de Wilde: "Friendship."
+
+    Friendship very nice must be,
+    Much it pleases the people we see.
+
+
+The wig seemed dissatisfied. The "Religion" of Lucas de Wilde was
+pulled out and compared with Louwtje's "Friendship."
+
+"H--emm. It is possible. Another example of how one thought can
+originate in two heads at the same time."
+
+
+    Wimpje de Wilde: "Fishing."
+
+    Fishing very----
+
+
+"What's that?"
+
+Yes, really, there it was again:
+
+
+    Fishing very nice must be,
+    Much it pleases the people we see.
+
+
+The wig was moving continually. It looked as if it were fishing too.
+
+The teacher looked hurriedly through the remaining poems and picked out
+the offspring of the entire Wilde connection. His worst suspicions were
+realized. Mietje de Wilde, Kees de Wilde, Piet and Jan de Wilde--all
+uniformly declared that religion, friendship, fishing, dreaming,
+cauliflower and deception "very nice must be," and that they were
+also very pleasing "to the people we see." A regular flood of the
+nice and pleasing.
+
+Now, what do you suppose the wig did? It did the best thing that
+could be done under the circumstances. More could not be expected of a
+wig. As soon as it saw the futility of its efforts to comprehend the
+difference between fishing, friendship, deception, dreams, religion
+and cauliflower, it merely ignored the whole matter, readjusted itself
+and assumed an expression of expectancy for what was yet to come.
+
+
+    Leentje de Haas: "Admiral de Ruyter."
+
+    Pulling the rope with emotion,
+      To the top of the mast he came,
+    And then he went to the ocean,
+      And won for himself great fame.
+
+    And very much more he perfected,
+      Saleh he vanquished, too;
+    A hero he was then elected,
+      With nothing else to do.
+
+
+The wig lifted itself, the curls applauding enthusiastically. It was
+evidently pleased.
+
+
+    Grete Wauzer: "The Caterpillar."
+
+    The caterpillar, free from care,
+    Crawls on the tree just over there.
+
+
+"Descriptive poetry. A daring idea--the caterpillar crawling on the
+tree free from care."
+
+Wig: Quiet.
+
+Ah, the pleasure of a wig is short-lived! And how soon was this
+one--but I will not anticipate. Soon, all too soon, the reader will
+know the worst.
+
+
+    Walter Pieterse: "A Robber Song."
+
+
+"Aha, what's this? And 'goodness'? But where has he written on
+goodness?"
+
+The teacher could scarcely believe his eyes. He turned the sheet of
+paper over and examined the back side, hoping to discover there some
+lines on goodness.
+
+Then he saw that on Walter's sheet there was not a trace of "goodness."
+
+Oh, wretched wig!
+
+Yes, wretched wig! For after it had suffered as never wig had
+suffered before, after it had been pulled at and tugged at
+and martyred in a manner beyond even the imagination of the
+Wilde family, Master Pennewip snatched it from his head,
+twisted it convulsively in his hands, stammered a short
+"Heaven-human-Christian-soul-good-gracious-my-life--how is it
+possible!" slapped it on his head again, covered it with his venerable
+cap and burst out the door like one possessed.
+
+He was on his way to Walter's home, where we shall soon see him
+arrive. As a conscientious historian, however, it will be my duty
+first to give an account of the happenings there.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+"Goodness, I'm glad to see you! And so early, too! Leetje, place a
+chair over there and get the footstool, but be in a hurry, or I'd
+rather do it myself. And how are you? Juffrouw Laps is coming too,
+you know--Myntje, you'd better be thinking of your dough and stop
+combing your head. That girl can't keep her hands off of her hair
+when there's company. But do take a seat--no, not in the corner;
+there's a draft there."
+
+There was no more draft in this corner than is usual to corners;
+but Mrs. Stotter was only a Vrouw, and not a "Juffrouw." She had
+no right to the seat of honour; for on all occasions a Juffrouw
+takes precedence of a Vrouw, just as a Mevrouw takes precedence of
+a Juffrouw. Everyone must keep his place, especially those in III,
+7, b1; or c., where etiquette is observed more closely than at the
+court of Madrid. The care and anxiety of the mistress of ceremonies
+make her work most trying, and, too, not merely for Juffrouw Pieterse.
+
+"Ah, my dear Juffrouw Pieterse, I was so surprised when Louwie came
+to invite me, for I had just remarked to Wimpje, who makes caps, you
+know--no, thank you, Pietje, I don't care for any just now--I said
+to Wimpje, I wonder what Juffrouw Pieterse is doing, for I hadn't
+heard from you in so long, you know--yes, just throw it aside, it's
+my old one; I knew you wouldn't mind my wearing my old one--and then
+Wimpje said----"
+
+What Wimpje really said I don't know. Mrs. Stotter's garment, which she
+had described as her "old one," was removed and placed on the foot of
+the bed in the back room. The children, who were piled together there
+like sardines, were duly admonished not to stretch out their feet,
+lest in doing so they injure Mrs. Stotter's "old" garment.
+
+"And now, my dear, be seated--yes, that's for us, twice
+already. Leentje, where are you hiding now? Can't you hear that
+somebody is ringing?--It's probably Juffrouw Zipperman. Juffrouw
+Zipperman is coming, too, you know."
+
+Again I am at a loss: I don't know whether it was Juffrouw Zipperman
+who had rung, or somebody else. But the reader need not scold me for
+writing a story that I don't know myself. I cannot be sure whether it
+was Juffrouw Zipperman this time or Juffrouw Mabbel, from the bakery,
+or Juffrouw Krummel, whose husband is at the bourse, or Juffrouw
+Laps--but she didn't need to ring, as she lived in the house. Anyway,
+by half past seven the entire company was assembled, and Stoffel was
+smoking his pipe as if his life depended upon it. Leentje had gone home
+without her piece of bread and butter. She "could get it to-morrow";
+to-day there was "so much to do," and "one can't do everything at once,
+you know."
+
+"And then she got another one right away--don't you know? One with
+a wart on her nose."
+
+"Ah, it's an ordeal one has with girls," said Juffrouw Pieterse. "Take
+another piece, don't wait to be insisted upon; it's a cake from your
+own dough."
+
+"Excusez," said the Juffrouw from the bakery, with a mouth like a
+rabbit, a style of mouth signifying graciousness and good breeding.
+
+"You must eat more, or I shall think you don't like it." She had
+baked it herself.
+
+"Then I cannot refuse, Juffrouw Pieterse. Oblige and many thanks."
+
+"And you, Juffrouw Laps, what can I pass you?" Juffrouw Laps selected
+ginger cake.
+
+"Fill the cups, Trudie! Yes, Mrs. Stotter, when you are here you must
+drink with us. You are welcome to anything we've got. Pietje, wipe off
+a table--such a girl! And now go and look after the baby, and tell
+her that I don't want to hear any more noise. Ah, Juffrouw Mabbel,
+children are a great deal of trouble. And your little Sientje--how
+is her cough now?"
+
+"We've got a magnetisier, but that isn't enough. We must have the
+clairvoyange of the sonnebule."
+
+"You don't say so! One can hardly believe it. And when is he coming,
+the cler--cleek--clar----"
+
+"It's in the nerves, Juffrouw Zipperman. But he has the little nightcap
+and nightgown, in which she has sweated, you know; and he says that
+it will come all right now."
+
+"Who would have thought it! What will you do now?"
+
+"That's just it; the sonnebule must tell us what to do."
+
+Juffrouw Laps could not agree to this.
+
+"I wouldn't do it--I wouldn't do it--not for anything in the world! I
+tell you, what God does is all right. Just mark my words!"
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw Laps; but the Juffrouw at the provision store did it,
+and her child is lots better."
+
+"That's what you say, Juffrouw Mabbel, but I tell you there is
+something in her eye that I don't like."
+
+"What then, Juffrouw Laps?"
+
+"She has a look, a look--and it's sin--I tell you it is. It's wrong,
+it won't do. What God does is all right."
+
+"Come, Stoffel, talk some. You sit there like a stone. Recite a poem,
+or tell us something about your school. Would you believe it, Juffrouw
+Mabbel, he knows a whole poem by heart. And he has memorized all the
+verbs of the feminine gender."
+
+"Mother, what are you talking about?" said Stoffel, displeased. "Don't
+you see I'm smoking?"
+
+"Yes, dear, I meant when you were through smoking. Then you can repeat
+the words. You will be surprised, Juffrouw Zipperman, and wonder where
+he learned it all. How does it go? 'I would have been drunk, he would
+have been drunk'--of course, you know, he was not drunk, it belongs
+with the verbs. You will kill yourself laughing when he begins. Fill
+the cups, Trudie, and blow in the spout; there's a leaf over it."
+
+The reader will not take it amiss, I trust, if I pass over the
+subsequent history of this leaf, and, too, make some deviations from
+the text of the conversation during the further course of Juffrouw
+Pieterse's tea-evening. Stoffel spun off his conjugations and the
+ladies fairly shrieked when he related how "he had been drunk" and
+that "he would be drunk." Thereupon followed general and particular
+criticism of the neighbors. The Juffrouw below received her share,
+as a matter of course: She was absent.
+
+Religion and faith play an important part. Juffrouw Laps was for
+organizing a prayer-class. The preachers of to-day, she insisted,
+take their work too lightly and don't sweep out all the corners.
+
+"I tell you, it's in the Bible that man is only man," she cried;
+"that's what I want to tell you. Man must not try to know better than
+God himself. Salvation comes through grace, and grace through faith;
+but if a man is not chosen, then he has no grace and can have no
+faith. That's the way he is damned, don't you see? I tell you, it's
+just as certain as twice two--understand? And for that reason I want
+to have a prayer-class. Not for the sake of money or profit--God help
+me, no! At most just a trifle for the fair, or for New Year. What do
+you think of the plan, Juffrouw Mabbel?"
+
+That lady expressed the opinion that her husband would be opposed to
+it, for he liked to go out of evenings, and then she must stay in the
+shop. Besides, it was so difficult to get through with the work. No
+one could imagine what a laborious occupation baking was.
+
+"What do you say, Juffrouw Zipperman? Don't you think it would be a
+go? I would serve coffee; and the people could leave something on the
+saucers. Really, I am not doing it for the money. We would begin with
+the Old Testament--and then--exercise, you know; practice--understand?"
+
+Juffrouw Zipperman thought it would be very nice; but her son-in-law
+had said that the preachers are paid to do this, and that any
+additional "exercise" was merely an unnecessary expense.
+
+"What do you say to it, Juffrouw Krummel? Don't you think that such
+a class--just a small class----"
+
+Juffrouw Krummel said she practiced with her husband when he came
+from the bourse.
+
+Juffrouw Laps was now forced to turn to Mrs. Stotter, though she felt
+that she was letting herself down in appealing to a Vrouw.
+
+"Ah, my dear Juffrouw Laps, if you had been a midwife as long
+as I have you'd take no interest in a prayer-class. Now there is
+M'neer Littelman in Prince Street. I've been at his house--always in
+respectable houses--and he always said--it's a house with high steps,
+and in the hall there's a big clock about the wind and rain--and he
+always said: 'Vrouw Stotter,' said he, 'you're a good woman,' said he,
+'and a faithful midwife. I always tell the people that,' said he,
+'and,' said he, 'all of my connection must send for you,' said he,
+'but,' said he, 'when people tell you this you must act as if you
+didn't hear it'--thank you, Juffrouw Pieterse, my cup is turned
+over. Just as I said: Everyone must know what he's doing."
+
+"But just a little exercise like that, Mrs. Stotter!"
+
+"It's possible, it's possible. But I've had so much experience in such
+things. I go my own way; and that's the best way, too. For I've been in
+the home of M'neer Witte, who has an uncle in congress--for I always
+go to respectable places--and he always said, because he's so funny:
+'Child-woman, child-woman, you're nothing but a child-woman.' I was
+just going to say that I know what I'm doing, for I've seen a lot in
+my life. There's M'neer--what's his name? There in Prince Street--no,
+no, Market Square. Oh, what is his name!"
+
+The reader will have noticed that Mrs. Stotter digressed from the
+theme. But other folk do the same.
+
+"And Juffrouw Pieterse, what do you think of the idea? Just a little
+exercise."
+
+"Ah, my dear, I have exercise enough with my children. You don't know
+what it means to bring up nine. I always worship with the children,
+for the Bible says--Trudie, go to the baby; I hear her again."
+
+There was something noble in Trudie's gait as she walked into that
+back room. One could see that she felt flattered by the transmission
+to her of maternal dignity. Little Kee, the baby, was less flattered.
+
+"What were we talking about? Yes, that is my religious service. The
+children keep me busy. You don't know anything about it; if I bring
+them up properly--run, Pietje, and straighten out Simon. He's pinching
+his sister again; he always does it when there's company."
+
+Simon was straightened out.
+
+"Whenever we have company the children behave so badly. There it
+goes again. Myntje, go and see what's the matter and tell them to go
+to sleep."
+
+Myntje went, returning immediately with the report that they had
+"turned something over."
+
+General indignation. Angry message from the Juffrouw below. It was
+unpleasant for the Juffrouw below when the children of the Juffrouw
+above turned over things and flooded the back room. Terrible
+excitement.
+
+Finally the children were straightened out.
+
+Juffrouw Zipperman again sat in the corner where there was such a
+"draft." This only goes to show that earthly greatness has its dark
+side, and that a son-in-law in the insurance business entitles one
+to rheumatism.
+
+Juffrouw Laps was greatly pleased with the hearty manner in which
+punishment was meted out to the children. It was exactly according
+to Scripture, she said; and then she cited a text or two in which
+the rod was prescribed. It's in the Bible somewhere, I don't know
+where. The Bible mentions everything, and the "rod" especially.
+
+"Now, Stoffel," said the hostess sweetly, "recite something for
+us." She wanted to show that her children could do something else
+besides pinch and turn things over.
+
+"I don't know anything," said Stoffel, but without a trace of Socratic
+arrogance.
+
+"Just say for us what you said the other day. Come, Stoffel. That's
+the way he always is, Juffrouw Mabbel. One has to pull him up on his
+feet before he will do anything. But then he goes all right. Forward,
+Stoffel! He's tired now. Teaching in such a school is hard work. Yes,
+Juffrouw, he's as smart as he can be. Would you believe it? All words
+are either masculine or feminine. Aren't they, Stoffel?"
+
+"No, mother."
+
+"No? But--and the other day you said--it's only to get him started,
+you know, Juffrouw Zipperman, it takes a little time, because he's
+worn out with his school work--but you said that all words----"
+
+"No, mother. Masculine, feminine or neuter, I said."
+
+"Yes, and still more," said Juffrouw Pieterse. "You will be astonished
+when you hear him. What do you suppose you are, Juffrouw Krummel?"
+
+"I? What I am?"
+
+"Yes, yes, what you are--what you really are."
+
+"I am Juffrouw Krummel," she said, but doubtfully; for she read in
+the triumphant look of Juffrouw Pieterse and the tightly closed lips
+of Stoffel that she might easily be something entirely different from
+Juffrouw Krummel.
+
+The tension did not need to be farther increased; so Juffrouw Pieterse
+passed now from the special to the general. Her glance took in the
+entire company.
+
+"And you, too, Juffrouw Mabbel; and you, Juffrouw Laps; and you,
+Juffrouw Zipperman; and you, Mrs. Stotter--what do you all think
+you are?"
+
+No one knew.
+
+This will not be surprising to anyone who knows how difficult knowledge
+of the "self" is; but Stoffel had something else in mind. There was
+a deeper meaning involved.
+
+Juffrouw Laps was the first to answer, and she spoke with proud
+self-sufficiency:
+
+"I am Juffrouw Laps!"
+
+"Wrong, wrong--entirely wrong!"
+
+"But for Heaven sake, am I not Juffrouw Laps?"
+
+"Y-e-s. Of course you are Juffrouw Laps; but Stoffel didn't ask who
+you were, but what you were. There's the fine point."
+
+"What I am? I'm Dutch Reform!"
+
+"Y-e-s. That you are, too; but--it isn't that. The question is,
+What are you? Help her out, Stoffel."
+
+Between puffs of smoke, and with the air of a professor, Stoffel
+proceeded to "help":
+
+"Juffrouw Laps, I wished to know what you were from a zoological
+standpoint."
+
+"I won't have anything more to do with it," said Juffrouw Laps in
+the tone of one who feels that he is going to be insulted.
+
+"I am a midwife," said Mrs. Stotter, "and I'm going to stick to it."
+
+"And I am the baker's wife," cried Juffrouw Mabbel, with a positiveness
+in her tone which showed her intention to hold to this opinion.
+
+"Certainly, certainly, Juffrouw Mabbel; but I mean from a zoological
+standpoint."
+
+"If it's going to be indecent, I prefer to go home."
+
+"I, too," added Juffrouwen Krummel and Zipperman. "We came here to
+be entertained."
+
+"But you're not going to get angry about it! I tell you, it's in
+the book, Stoffel--you will laugh when you hear it, Juffrouw Mabbel;
+and the best part of it is, that it's in the book, and one can't say
+anything against it. Tell her, Stoffel!"
+
+"Juffrouw Laps," said Stoffel with dignity--an important moment in
+Juffrouw Pieterse's tea-evening had arrived--"Juffrouw Laps, you are
+a sucking animal."
+
+I admit frankly that I cannot adequately describe the crisis that
+followed these two words. If Stoffel had only said mammal, perhaps
+then my task would have been easier.
+
+Juffrouw Laps's face took on all the different colors that are
+generally supposed to express anger. She had been attacked more openly
+than the others, it is true; but her attitude toward the prayer-class
+would go to show that she was naturally polemical.
+
+In French novels people used to turn green; but Juffrouw Laps did not
+read French, so she stopped at a terrible violet and screamed--no,
+she didn't. She didn't scream anything; for she was choking for
+breath. But she did pulverize that piece of ginger cake; and she
+looked at Stoffel and his mother in a manner that would have been most
+damaging for her if those two persons had happened to die that night.
+
+Imitating the trick of the cuttle-fish, no doubt unconsciously,
+Stoffel managed to escape this fatal stare by enveloping himself in a
+heavy cloud of smoke. Juffrouw Pieterse, however, not being a smoker,
+was at the mercy of Juffrouw Laps. She stammered humbly: "It's in
+the book, really it's in the book. Don't be angry, it's in the book."
+
+By this time Juffrouw Laps was getting a little air, so much that
+there was now no danger of her suffocating. She threw the mutilated
+remains of the ginger cake on the table and began:
+
+"Juffrouw Pieterse, you are nothing but a low, vile, filthy--you
+may even be a sucking animal, you and your son too. I want you
+to understand that I've always been respectable. My father sold
+grain, and nobody's ever been able to say anything against me! Ask
+everybody about me--if I've ever run with men-folk, and such things;
+and if I haven't always paid my debts. He was manager I would have
+you understand, and we lived over the chapter-house, for he was in
+the grain business, and you can ask about me there. Thank God, you
+can ask about me everywhere--do you hear? But never, never, never,
+has such a thing happened to me. What you put on me! If it wasn't
+for lowering myself I'd tell you what I think of you--you sucking
+animal, you and your son and your whole family. My father sold grain,
+and I'm too respectable for you to----"
+
+"But--it's in the book that way. For God's sake believe me; it's in
+the book."
+
+"Just hold your lip about your book. Anybody who sells God's holy
+word on the Ouwebrug needn't talk to me about books."
+
+This accusation was false; for Walter, and not his mother, had sold
+the Bible; but this was no time for such fine distinctions.
+
+"Stoffel, go get the book and show Juffrouw--my God, what shall I do!"
+
+"Go to the Devil with your book and your sucking animals. You've got
+nothing to show in your book. I know you--and your lout of a son,
+and your wenches of daughters, that are growing up like----"
+
+Truitje, Myntje and Pietje, understanding from this that there
+was something radically wrong with their growth, began to screech
+too. Other members of the party bawled a word from time to time,
+as opportunity presented itself. Then came another message from the
+Juffrouw below. This time she threatened to call in the police. The
+children, taking advantage of the general excitement to break the
+ban under which they had been placed, had left the bed and were
+now listening at the keyhole. Juffrouw Pieterse was calling for the
+camphor bottle, declaring that she was going to die; Mrs. Stotter
+was clamoring for her wrap--her "old one"; and Stoffel was playing
+cuttle-fish as well as he could.
+
+All had got up and were going to leave. They could "put up with a
+good deal," but that was "too much"! Juffrouw Krummel was going to
+tell her husband; Juffrouw Zipperman was going to let everybody in the
+insurance business know about it; Mrs. Stotter was going to relate the
+whole story to the gentleman in Prince Street; and Juffrouw Mabbel--I
+forget whom she was going to tell it all to. In short, every one of
+them was going to see to it that the affair was well aired.
+
+Who knows but what these threats would have been carried out, if the
+good genius of the Pieterses had not at that moment caused someone
+to ring the door-bell? It was that worthy gentleman whom we left in
+such a state of pious despair at the close of the last chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+Yes, the door-bell rang. And it rang again: So it was "for
+us." Juffrouw Pieterse drew a long breath; and I must say, she did
+a very proper thing. While admitting that it is foolish to say what
+one would do if one were somebody else, still, in her place I should
+have drawn a long breath, too. Firstly, because I imagine she hadn't
+done this for a long time; secondly, because I know how, in adverse
+circumstances, every change and interruption gives one ground for
+hope; and, finally, because I think Juffrouw Pieterse was human,
+just like the rest of us.
+
+"Ah, my dears," she said, "be peaceable. It must be the gentlemen."
+
+The ladies declared it couldn't be the gentlemen, because it was
+too early for them; and this very doubt and uncertainty as to who it
+might be gave the crisis a favorable turn.
+
+Mere uncertainty, even when in no way connected with what is occupying
+us, has a sort of paralyzing effect. Besides, when one is interrupted
+in one's anger, afterwards it is difficult to find the place where
+one left off.
+
+This was Juffrouw Laps's experience; she tried it, but it wouldn't
+work. Her "a sucking animal, a sucking animal!" was smothered by,
+"What can it mean? He never comes before ten!"
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse quickly availed herself of this diversion to get
+them all seated again.
+
+Trudie was commissioned to "straighten out" the children, who came off
+rather badly. The hostess was just about to state a new zoological
+argument, which should establish peace between the hostile parties,
+when the door opened and Master Pennewip stood before the agitated
+assembly.
+
+He, too, was agitated: the reader knows it.
+
+The surprise caused by the arrival of this unexpected visitor had a
+most favorable effect on the peace negotiations. A truce was tacitly
+declared, though not without the proviso, at least on Juffrouw Laps's
+part, that hostilities should be reopened as soon as curiosity as to
+Pennewip's visit had been sufficiently satisfied. Indeed, she was
+all the more willing for a truce, as it was evident from the man's
+appearance that there was something momentous at hand. His wig cried
+out fire and murder in unmistakable tones. And that was just what
+the good Juffrouw Laps liked.
+
+"Good-evening, Juffrouw Pieterse; my humblest respects. I see you
+have company, but----"
+
+"That 'doesn't make a bit of difference,' Master Pennewip. 'Come
+right in and take a seat.'"
+
+These forms of expression were rigidly observed in the "citizen
+populace," III, 7. c.
+
+"Won't you drink a cup with us?"
+
+"Juffrouw Pieterse," he said with extreme dignity, "I didn't come
+here simply to drink a cup of sage-milk."
+
+"But, Master Pennewip, please be seated!"
+
+It wasn't easy; but the ladies made room and he was soon seated.
+
+He cleared up his throat and looked about him with dignity. Then
+he drew a roll of manuscript from his pocket, disarranged his wig
+and spoke:
+
+"Juffrouw Pieterse! You are a worthy, respectable woman, and your
+husband sold shoes----"
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse looked triumphantly at Juffrouw Laps.
+
+"Yes, Master Pennewip, quite so; he did----"
+
+"Don't interrupt me, Juffrouw Pieterse. Your departed husband sold
+shoes. I have taught your children from little tots up to their
+confirmation. Haven't I, Juffrouw Pieterse?"
+
+"Yes, Master Pennewip," she replied modestly; for she was afraid of
+that excessive dignity in Pennewip's manner and voice.
+
+"And I just want to ask you, Juffrouw Pieterse, whether, during all
+this time that your children were in my school, you ever heard any
+complaints--reasonable complaints--of the manner in which I, with
+my wife, instructed your children in reading, writing, arithmetic,
+national history, psalmody, sewing, knitting, drawing and religion? I
+put the question to you, Juffrouw Pieterse, and wait for a reply."
+
+An awful silence followed this speech. The Juffrouw below had every
+reason to be satisfied.
+
+"But, Master Pennewip----"
+
+"I don't want any 'but', Juffrouw Pieterse. I ask you, whether you
+have had any complaints. I mean, of course, well grounded complaints
+about my instruction in reading, writing, arithmetic----"
+
+"Well, no, Master Pennewip, I have no complaints; but----"
+
+"So-oo? No complaints? Well, then I will explain to you--where is
+your son Walter?"
+
+"Walter? Dear me! Hasn't he come home, Trudie? He went to take a
+walk with the Halleman boys. They are such respectable children,
+Master Pennewip, and they live----"
+
+"So! With the Hallemans--who go to the French school! Aha, and
+that's it? So--from the Hallemans! And he learns such things from the
+Hallemans--the Hallemans III, 7, a2, perhaps 'a'--yes, who knows but
+that it might be II. It's no wonder--immorality, viciousness--at the
+French school! And now, Juffrouw Pieterse, I want to tell you that
+your son----"
+
+"What did you say?"
+
+Master Pennewip looked about him as if he were drinking in the
+breathless silence that had fallen over his hearers.
+
+Juffrouw Laps hastened to repay with compound interest that triumphant
+look of the hostess, while that lady, thoroughly miserable, was making
+frequent use of the camphor bottle. She was not so much mortified that
+Juffrouw Laps should hear something else unfavorable about Walter,
+who had caused them so much trouble, as angry that she should be
+the witness of an accusation that would give her a new weapon in the
+zoological fray.
+
+"Didn't I tell you so? Nothing good will ever come to this Walter. A
+boy that begins with the Bible will end with something else. Yes,
+Master Pennewip, I'm not surprised--I shouldn't be surprised at
+anything he did. I've seen it coming for a long time. But what
+shouldn't one expect from a family----"
+
+As quick as a flash Juffrouw Pieterse saw here her opportunity to
+recover her lost advantage. Stoffel had said it was in the book;
+but a teacher must know whatever is in a book. Therefore----
+
+"Master Pennewip," she cried, "Is it true that Juffrouw Laps is a
+sucking animal?"
+
+I am convinced that Pennewip brought this question under a special
+category for "peculiar overflowings of the heart," seeing that it
+followed upon his unfinished accusation against Walter. He looked
+over his glasses and slowly described with his eye a circle, peopled
+with women holding their breath, heads and necks stretched out and
+mouths wide open. The attitude of Juffrouw Laps was threatening above
+everything else, and said quite distinctly: Answer or die! Am I a
+sucking animal?
+
+"With whom have I the honor to speak?" he asked, probably not
+considering that this question made the matter still more mysterious,
+giving the impression that Laps's animal quality depended upon her
+name, age, place of residence, family relations, etc.
+
+"I am Juffrouw Laps," she said, "and live down stairs in the front
+part of the house."
+
+"Ah--so! Yes, indeed you belong to the class of sucking animals."
+
+A ten-fold sigh was heaved; and Juffrouw Pieterse was again
+triumphant. In politics and the citizen populace complete equilibrium
+is impossible. The parties or powers are in continual motion, first
+one in the ascendency, then the other.
+
+Juffrouw Laps, who had not been able to accomplish anything with pride,
+now attempted good humor.
+
+"But Master Pennewip," she said sweetly, "how can you say such a
+thing? My father was in the grain business and----"
+
+"Juffrouw Laps, answer me one question."
+
+"Yes, Master Pennewip, but----"
+
+"Answer me, Juffrouw Laps, where do you live?"
+
+"Where I live? Why, in my room, down stairs--two windows--front
+entrance----"
+
+"You miss the significance of my question entirely, Juffrouw Laps. The
+meaning would be similar if I were to ask you if you belonged to that
+class of organisms that live in oyster-shells."
+
+"Yes, yes, Juffrouw Laps," cried the triumphant hostess, "that's the
+point--the main point!"
+
+And Stoffel added that it was really and truly the main point.
+
+Juffrouw Laps saw that she was hopelessly lost, for she had to admit to
+herself that she didn't usually reside in an oyster-shell. She looked
+at the teacher with astonishment; but he paid no attention at all to
+the effect of his questions. Assuming a sort of legal manner--which
+was closely imitated by his wig, he continued:
+
+"Can you live in water? Have you gills?"
+
+"In water? But--Master Pennewip----"
+
+Wig to the left, which meant: No, but!
+
+"Or half in water, half on land?"
+
+"Master Pennewip, how should I----"
+
+Wig to the right: No subterfuges.
+
+"Answer me, Juffrouw Laps, have you cold blood? Do you bring living
+young into the world?"
+
+"It is a sin, Master Pennewip!"
+
+The wig now looked like a battering-ram, anticipating the nature of
+the next question.
+
+"Can you lay eggs, Juffrouw Laps? I only ask you the question. Can
+you lay eggs? Eh?"
+
+She said she couldn't.
+
+"Then you are a sucking animal, Juffrouw Laps!"
+
+The wig was in the middle again resting quietly. It had vanquished
+Juffrouw Laps.
+
+I wonder what the reader's idea is of the effect produced on the
+company by this terrible sentence, against which there could be no
+appeal. There was something pitiless in Pennewip's manner, and in
+his contracted eyebrows there was no intimation of mercy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+The attentive reader who knows human nature will naturally wish to
+know why I closed the last chapter so tamely, and why that zoological
+problem which, only a short time before had caused such a violent
+explosion, was now allowed to rest in peace.
+
+There are three reasons for this.
+
+Firstly, the women had been so wrought up that they were now exhausted.
+
+Secondly, Juffrouw Laps, the shrewd leader of the fight, looked over
+the battlefield and, without thinking of the famous battle between
+the Horatii and the Curiatii, saw with innate tactical talent the
+correctness of "divide and conquer." With the forces Stotter, Mabbel,
+Krummel and Zipperman against the house of Pieterse--that was all
+right. But now that the house was supported by Pennewip's powerful
+hand, it was prudent to withdraw from the battle. For who could
+guarantee her that she might depend upon her allies? What assurance
+had she that the midwife, or even Juffrouw Zipperman would not go over
+to the enemy?--if only out of deference to the versatile wig! No, no,
+no! She wouldn't risk her rhetorical artillery in such a doubtful
+engagement! She was content to say to herself, "I will get even
+with you later." Imagining her, with all her relations to society,
+multiplied by twenty or thirty millions, we would have read the next
+day in this or that official Laps organ something like this:
+
+"Our relations with the Pietersian empire are most cordial. The
+recent friendly meeting between the two sovereigns was merely that
+they might have the mutual pleasure of seeing one another, and had
+no political significance whatever. It will be seen how unfounded
+were those rumors of 'strained relations,' which were said to have
+been brought about by a discussion of certain characteristics of our
+popular princess. The reader will recall that we never gave credence
+to those rumors, and reported them with great reserve."
+
+Thirdly. The third and chief cause of the armistice
+was--curiosity. Under the present changed circumstances whoever
+betrayed any anger would have to leave; and whoever left would not
+find out why Master Pennewip had come, or what new crime Walter had
+committed. Again we see the truth of the proposition, that everything
+has its good side.
+
+"But, Master Pennewip," asked Juffrouw Pieterse--she threw the
+subdued sucking animal a look that was like a triumphant telegram,
+and read: Where are you now?--"but Master Pennewip, what has Walter
+been doing now?"
+
+"Yes, what has he been up to this time," added Juffrouw Laps, delighted
+that the conversation had taken this turn, and that she was now to
+hear about Walter's latest sin.
+
+For the sinner is a thing in which pious persons find much
+edification. As we have already seen, Juffrouw Laps was fond of
+edification.
+
+Pennewip was just on the point of beginning his indictment when the
+door-bell rang. It rang again: "It's for us"--and in a moment our
+truant walked into the room.
+
+He was paler than usual, and with good reason; for strange things
+had happened to him since Fancy had lifted him up and borne him away.
+
+"Juffrouw Pieterse," began Pennewip, "my school is famous, even as
+far away as Kattenburg. Do you hear me?"
+
+"Yes, Master Pennewip."
+
+"I repeat it: Famous! And, too, chiefly on account of the fine moral
+there--I mean, of course, in my school. Religion and morality occupy
+the first place in my school. I could show you verses on the Deity--but
+I pass over that. It is sufficient for you to know that my school is
+famous as far as--but what am I talking about--I've even had a boy
+from Wittenburg; and I was once consulted about the education of a
+boy whose father lived at Muiderberg."
+
+"Oh, Master Pennewip!"
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw, I still have the letter and could show it to you. The
+man was a gravedigger--the boy painted inappropriate figures on
+the coffins. And just for this reason I feel it my duty to tell you
+that I don't intend to see my school lose its good name through that
+good-for-nothing boy of yours there!"
+
+Poor Walter had fallen from the clouds. That sounded quite different
+from a papal appointment--which he really no longer cared for, as he
+had just received another appointment that pleased him better.
+
+His mother wanted to pass immediately to what she called her "divine
+worship" and give him a sound thrashing, in order to satisfy the
+teacher that religion and morality took the first place in her
+house, too.
+
+But the teacher found it preferable to tell the party what the
+trouble was, and incidentally to strengthen the feeling of guilt in
+the patient.
+
+"Your son belongs to the class of robbers, murderers, ravishers of
+women, incendiaries----"
+
+That was all.
+
+"Holy grace! Heavenly righteousness! Compassionate Christian souls! Ah,
+divine and human virtue, is it possible! What must we endure!"
+
+I cannot always be exact; but, in general, such was the flood of
+exclamations that all but swept away that ten-year-old robber,
+murderer, ravisher of women and incendiary.
+
+"I am going to read you something from his hand," said the teacher,
+"and then if anybody still doubts the boy's viciousness----"
+
+All tacitly promised to have no doubts.
+
+The work that the teacher read was indeed of such a nature as to leave
+small room for doubts; and I, who have chosen Walter for my hero,
+anticipate difficulty in convincing the reader that he was not so
+bad as he seemed--after his
+
+
+    "Robber Song."
+
+    "On the steed,
+    Off I speed,
+    With helmet on head
+    And a sword in my hand and the enemy dead;
+    Quick, away!"
+
+
+"Christian souls," cried the whole party, "is he mad?"
+
+
+    "Rather late,
+    Near the gate
+    A push and a blow,
+    Vanquished dragoon, Margrave laid low----"
+
+
+"Heaven save us, what has he against the Margrave," wailed the mother.
+
+
+    "For the spoil!"
+
+
+"Don't you see, it's for booty," said Juffrouw Laps. "I told you so:
+He began with the Bible, he'll end with----"
+
+
+    "And the prize--
+    Pretty eyes----"
+
+
+"Did you ever hear the like--he has scarcely shed his milk teeth!"
+
+
+    "And the prize--
+    Pretty eyes--
+    She was bought with steel----"
+
+
+"With ste-e-l!"
+
+
+    "And the prize--
+    Pretty eyes--
+    She was bought with steel;
+    I bore her away to the cave just to feel
+    How it seemed."
+
+
+"Heavenly grace, what is he going to do in the cave?"
+
+
+    "In my arm,
+    Free from harm
+    Lay the maid as we sped;
+    Her cries, sweet complaints, and the tears----"
+
+
+"Oh, blessed peace, and the poor thing crying!"
+
+
+    "Her cries, sweet complaints, and the tears she shed--
+    O, delight!"
+
+
+"And he calls that delight! I'm getting right cold."
+
+
+    "Then again,
+    O'er the plain----"
+
+
+"Holy Father, there he goes again!"
+
+
+    "Then again,
+    O'er the plain.
+    Right and left, nothing spurned,
+    Here a villa destroyed or a cloister burned
+    For fun."
+
+
+"The Devil is in that boy. For fun!"
+
+
+    "Farther yet,
+    I forget--
+    But the deeds they were dire,
+    And the road was marked with blood and fire
+    And revenge!"
+
+
+"Mercy on us! What had they done to him!"
+
+
+    "Revenge's sweet,
+    And is meet
+    For the King of the World----"
+
+
+"Is he crazy? I'll make him a king!"
+
+
+    "Revenge's sweet
+    And is meet
+    For the King of the World,
+    Who alone is supreme, with a banner unfurled
+    Forever!"
+
+
+"What sort of a thing is he talking about?"
+
+
+    "All! Hurrah!
+    But, I say----"
+
+
+Everybody shuddered.
+
+
+    "All! Hurrah!
+    But, I say
+    No pardon shall be lavished,
+    The men shall be hanged and the women----"
+
+
+"Trudie, Trudie, the camphor bottle! You see--I----"
+
+
+    "The men shall be hanged and the women ravished----"
+
+
+"The camphor bottle! Trudie, Trudie!"
+
+
+    "For pleasure!"
+
+
+"For pleasure," repeated the teacher in a grave-yard voice, "for
+pleasure!"
+
+"He--does--it--for--pleasure!"
+
+The company was stupefied. Even Stoffel's pipe had gone out.
+
+But Walter's was not a nature to be easily disturbed. After his mother
+had beaten him till she came to her senses again, he went to bed
+in the little back room, far from dissatisfied with the day's work,
+and was soon dreaming of Fancy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+On the next day things had largely resumed their wonted course. That
+someone may not charge me with carelessness, or indifference towards
+the persons with whom we spent a pleasant evening, I will remark
+in passing that Juffrouw Mabbel was again busy with her baking and
+"clairvoyange," and that Mrs. Stotter had resumed her activities with
+the stork. Those unfortunate creatures who were committed to her care
+she condemned to lie motionless for two or three months--perhaps to
+give the newly born an idea of their new career, and, at the same time,
+to punish them for the shameful uproar they had caused by their birth.
+
+As for Master Pennewip, he was busy, as usual, educating future
+grandparents of the past. His wig had not yet recovered from the
+excitement of the night before and was longing for Sunday.
+
+Klaasje van der Gracht had been awarded the prize with an impressive,
+"Keep on that way, my boy"; and he kept on. I still see poems in
+the papers whose clearness, conciseness and sublimity betray his
+master hand. I have heard that he died of smallpox--he had not been
+vaccinated; it will be remembered--but I consider it my duty to
+protect him from any such slander. A genius does not die; otherwise
+it wouldn't be worth while to be born a genius. Still, if Klaas had
+died like other people, his spirit would have lived in those coming
+after him. And that is a beautiful immortality.
+
+The family de Wilde, too, has not died out, and will not die. I am
+certain of it.
+
+Juffrouw Krummel asked her husband if she was really a "sucking
+animal." Being from the bourse, and having much worldly wisdom, he
+replied after reflection that of such things he didn't believe more
+than half he heard. "In this case the last half," he added--but softly.
+
+Juffrouw Zipperman had caught a cold; but was still able to boast
+about her son-in-law. She was a "respectable woman." Only she couldn't
+endure for Juffrouw Laps to talk so much about "virtue," and the
+"respectability" of her father, who was "in the grain business." Old
+Man Laps, she said, was not in, but under the grain business. He had
+carried sacks of grain, but that was quite different from selling
+grain. For the man who sells is much bigger than the man who
+carries. Juffrouw, therefore, had been making misleading statements.
+
+Trudie and her sisters had decked themselves out as well as possible
+and were sitting at the window. When young people passed by they
+looked as if they had never in their lives straightened out anybody.
+
+The Juffrouw in the rear below told the grocer that she was going
+to move out; for it was just scandalous, simply scandalous the way
+the Pieterses carried on in their back room; that she couldn't leave
+anything uncovered.
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse was busy with her household, and looked like
+a working woman. From time to time she had "divine service" with
+the children, who, if they could have had their choice, would have
+preferred to have been born among the Alfures, Dajaks, or some other
+benighted people whose religion is less strenuous.
+
+I am glad to be able to say that Juffrouw Laps had passed a good
+night. I should like to tell more about her, but I don't care to
+exhaust myself.
+
+Stoffel had returned to school, and was trying to inspire the boys with
+contempt for riches. He was using on them a poem that had probably
+been written in a garret by some poor devil or other whose wealth
+gave him little cause for complaint. The boys were inattentive,
+and seemed not to grasp the peculiar pleasure in having no money to
+buy marbles. Stoffel attributed their hard-heartedness to Walter's
+crazy ideas: They had heard of his attack on the Margrave and of that
+remarkable visit to the cave.
+
+And Walter?
+
+He still lived in expectation of the punishment he deserved so
+richly. For his mother had given him to understand repeatedly that
+the little "straightening out" of the evening before was merely for
+practice, and that the reward of his sin would be delayed till she
+could speak with the preacher about it.
+
+In the meanwhile Walter didn't know what to do. He couldn't return
+to school: Pennewip had closed for him that fountain of knowledge.
+
+Nor was he allowed to go out for a walk. "Who knows what he will do
+if I let him out of my sight?" said his mother, who was presumably
+afraid that he might make a fresh attack on the cloisters. As a matter
+of fact, she denied him this privilege merely because Walter asked it.
+
+She expressed the opinion that it was best not to let bad children
+have their own way.
+
+If Walter had been right wise, he would have pretended to be thoroughly
+in love with that dark back room; then, for his moral improvement,
+he would have been chased down the steps, and away to his sawmills.
+
+But Walter was not smart.
+
+He was forbidden to go into the front room because the young ladies
+did not care to see him.
+
+That back room was more than dark: It was narrow, and dirty,
+and reeked with all the fumes of "III, 7, c." But Walter was used
+to all this and much more. He had always been a martyr--bandages,
+poultices, bandy legs, biblical history, rickets, poems on goodness,
+evening prayers, the judgment day, hobgoblins for wicked children,
+closed eyes before and after the slice of bread, sleeping with crooked
+knees, committing sins, fear for the torn breeches, "divine service"
+with and without sensible accompaniment!
+
+That droll robber song, whose origin we know so well, shows how easily
+his childish soul was moved by whatever seemed great to him. He was a
+pure child, and he was a good boy. He wouldn't have hurt a fly. The
+criminal character of his song was due to his desire to grasp what
+is greater than everything else and to be the leader in that world
+created by his childish fancy.
+
+Robber--good! But a first-class robber, a robber of robbers, a robber
+without mercy--for pleasure!
+
+As to the gross mistreatment of women mentioned in his song, he had
+no idea what it meant. He used the word for the sake of rhyme, and
+because from certain sentences in his book he had got the impression
+that it must afford great pleasure.
+
+If, perchance, for those fourteen stivers Grandisson--weary
+remembrance--had fallen into his hands, his Wednesday's poem would have
+been quite different. No doubt he would have sought a reconciliation
+with the butcher's Keesje, forgiving him completely all his liberties
+with "Holland nobility" and even presenting him a few slate pencils.
+
+For that is the striking characteristic of spirits such as
+Walter's. Whatever they are, they are that with all their might,
+always going further in any direction than they would seem to be
+warranted in doing by the mere external circumstances.
+
+From such characters we could hope much, if through some chance--i. e.,
+a natural cause, which we call chance, because we do not understand
+it and are ashamed to admit our ignorance--if through some chance
+they were not born among people who do not understand them, and,
+therefore, mistreat them.
+
+It is one of our peculiarities that we like to mistreat anyone
+whose soul is differently organized from ours. How does the watch
+move? asks the child, and cannot rest until he has torn apart the
+wheels he could not understand. There the watch lies in pieces, and
+the little miscreant excuses himself with the remark that he just
+wanted to see how it was made.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+Walter sat with his elbows on the table, his chin resting in his
+hands. He seemed to be deeply interested in Leentje's sewing, but
+we shall see in a moment that his thoughts were elsewhere, and, too,
+far away from III. 7, c.
+
+They had forbidden her to speak to the shameless rascal, and only
+occasionally, when Juffrouw Pieterse left the room, did she have an
+opportunity to whisper to him a few words of comfort. To be sure,
+she noticed that Walter was not so sad as we should expect one to be
+who was caught in between the thrashing of yesterday and the priest of
+to-morrow. This gentleman was to come to-morrow to settle the matter.
+
+"But, Walter, how could you speak of burning cloisters!"
+
+"Ah, I meant--sh!"
+
+"And the Count--what had he done?"
+
+"It was a Margrave--sh!"
+
+"What sort of a count is that? I'll bet he was one out of another
+house."
+
+"Yes, it was Amalia's father--but that isn't it. I have something to
+tell you, Leentje--sh!"
+
+"Amalia--who is Amalia?"
+
+"That was my bride, but--Leentje, I wanted to tell you something--sh!"
+
+"Your bride! Are you mad, Walter? Your bride?"
+
+"Yes, she was; but now no more. I was going to help her--but a duck
+came--but that isn't it, Leentje. Now I see it all--sh. I swam by--sh!"
+
+"Who, what? Swam by?"
+
+"By Amalia. She sat on the rushes--now I understand it all--I am--sh!"
+
+"I don't understand a word, Walter. But the women--why did you
+want to----"
+
+Poor innocent Leentje.
+
+"The women were in the book--but listen, I am--sh!"
+
+"And the cloisters?"
+
+"That has nothing to do with it--I know everything now. Listen Leentje,
+I am--sh!"
+
+"For Heaven sake, Walter, what's the matter with you? You look as if
+you were mad."
+
+Walter had a vision. He stretched himself up, cast a proud glance
+at the beams in the ceiling, placed his right hand over his heart,
+extended his left, as if he were draping a Spanish mantle about
+him--remember that he had never been in a theatre--and said:
+
+"Leentje, I am a prince."
+
+At that moment his mother came in, boxed his ears and sent him out
+of the room.
+
+
+
+Walter's principality was in the moon--no, much farther away.
+
+In the following the reader shall learn how he had attained to this
+new dignity.
+
+Long before the beginning of this story--yes, a long time before
+this--there was a queen of spirits, just like in "Hans Heiling." Her
+name was A----o.
+
+She did not live in a cave, but held her court far up in the clouds;
+and this was airier and more suitable for a queen.
+
+She wore a necklace of stars, and a sun was set in her signet-ring.
+
+Whenever she went forth, the clouds flew about like dust, and with
+a motion of her hand she drove away the firmaments.
+
+Her children played with planets as with marbles, and she complained
+that it was so difficult for her to find them again when they had
+rolled away under the furniture.
+
+The little son of the queen, Prince Upsilon, was peevish over this
+and was continually calling for more playthings.
+
+The queen then gave him a sack of siriuses; but in a short time these,
+too, were all lost. It was Upsilon's own fault: He ought to have paid
+more attention to his playthings.
+
+They tried to satisfy him as best they could, but no matter what they
+gave him, he always wanted something else, something larger. This
+was a defect in the character of the little prince.
+
+The mother, who, as queen of the spirits, was a very intelligent woman,
+thought it would be a good idea for the little prince to accustom
+himself to privations.
+
+She issued an order, therefore, that for a certain time Upsilon was
+to have no playthings.
+
+The order was carried out. Everything was taken away from him,
+even the comet that he and his little sister Omicron happened to be
+playing with.
+
+Prince Upsilon was somewhat stubborn. He so far forgot himself one
+day as to speak disrespectfully to his mother.
+
+Even Princess Omicron was contaminated by his example--nothing is
+worse than a bad example--and violently threw her pallet against the
+universe. That was not becoming in a girl.
+
+Now, in the kingdom of spirits, there was a law to the effect, that
+anyone showing disrespect toward the queen, or throwing anything
+against the universe, should be deprived of all titles and dignities
+for a certain length of time.
+
+Prince Upsilon became a grain of sand.
+
+After he had behaved himself well in this capacity for a few centuries
+he received the news that he had been promoted to be a moss plant.
+
+Then one morning he woke up and found himself a coral zoophyte.
+
+That occurred about the time that man began to cook his food.
+
+He was industrious, building up islands and continents on the earth. In
+recognition of his zeal he was turned into a crab.
+
+In this capacity, too, there could be no complaint against him,
+and he was soon transferred to the class of sea-serpents.
+
+He played some innocent pranks on sailors, but he never harmed
+anyone. Soon he received four feet and the rank of a mastodon, with
+the privilege of roaming over the land.
+
+With the self-control of a philosopher he entered upon his new life,
+busying himself with geological investigations.
+
+A few centuries later--remember that in the kingdom of spirits all time
+taken together is only as a short quarter of an hour--or to speak more
+correctly, that all time is nothing. For time was made merely for man,
+for his amusement, and given to him just as we give picture books to
+children. For spirits, present, past and future are all the same. They
+comprehend yesterday, to-day and to-morrow at a glance, just as one
+reads a word without spelling it out. What was and is going to be, is.
+
+The Egyptians and Phoenicians knew that very well, but Christians
+have forgotten it.
+
+Fancy knew that Walter could not read, so she related Upsilon's story
+to him, just as I am doing for the reader.
+
+Some centuries later he had become an elephant; then a moment later,
+i. e., about ten years before the opening of my story--I mean years
+as we mortals reckon them--he was elevated to the class of man.
+
+I don't know what sins he may have committed as an elephant.
+
+Anyway, Fancy had said, that in order to return to his station as a
+spirit-prince in a short time and escape any further degradation it
+was necessary for him to be diligent and well behaved in his present
+state, and not write any robber songs, or slip out things and sell
+them--even if it was only a Bible.
+
+And, too, he must become reconciled to seeing Juffrouw Pieterse
+without a train on her dress. Fancy said it couldn't be helped.
+
+This "Fancy" must have been some lady at his mother's court, who
+visited him in his exile to comfort and encourage him, so that
+he wouldn't think they were punishing him because they were angry
+with him.
+
+She promised to visit him from time to time. "But," asked Walter,
+"how is my little sister getting along?"
+
+"She's being punished, too. You know the law. She is patient with
+it all and promises to improve. At first she was a fire-ball; but
+she behaved so nicely that she was soon changed to a moon-beam; and
+also in this state there was nothing against her. It seemed to be
+a pleasure for her; and it was all her mother could do to keep from
+shortening the punishment. She was soon turned into vapor, and stood
+the test well; for she filled the universe. That was about the time
+you began to eat grass. Soon she was a butterfly. But your mother
+did not consider this suitable for a girl and had her changed into
+a constellation. There she stands before us now."
+
+It often happens that we do not see a thing because it is too big.
+
+"Look," said Fancy. "There--to the right! No, further--there,
+there--the north star! That is her left eye. You can't see her right,
+because she is bending over towards Orion, the doll which she holds
+in her lap and caresses."
+
+Walter saw it plainly enough and cried: "Omicron, Omicron!"
+
+"No, no, prince," said the lady of the court, "that will not do. Each
+must undergo his punishment alone. It's already a great concession
+that you two are imprisoned in the same universe. Recently, when your
+little brothers flooded the milky way with sin, they were separated
+completely."
+
+Walter was sad. How gladly would he have kissed his little
+sister!--that group of stars nursing the doll.
+
+"Ah, Fancy, let me be with Omicron."
+
+Fancy said neither yes nor no.
+
+She looked as if she were reflecting on the possibility of
+accomplishing the almost impossible.
+
+Walter, taking courage from her hesitation, repeated his request.
+
+"Ah, let me live with my little sister again, even if I have to eat
+grass or build continents--I will eat and build with pleasure, if I
+may only be with Omicron."
+
+Probably Fancy was afraid to promise something beyond her power;
+and she was sorry not to be able to give her promise.
+
+"I will ask," she whispered, "and now----"
+
+Walter rubbed his eyes. There was the bridge and the ditch. He heard
+the ducks cackling from the distance. He saw his mills again. Yes, yes,
+there they were. But their name was no longer--what was their name?
+
+The mills were called "Morning Hour" and "Eagle," and they called
+out just like other sawmills: "Karre, karre, kra, kra----"
+
+Thereupon Walter went home. We have already seen what awaited him
+there.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+The preacher had come and gone. Sentence had been passed and the
+penalty paid. But Walter was depressed and despondent. Leentje did
+her best to put some animation into him, but in vain. Perhaps it was
+because she no longer understood her ward.
+
+Those confidential communications of Walter's were beyond her
+comprehension; and often she looked at him as if she doubted his
+sanity. From her meagre weekly allowance she saved a few doits,
+thinking to gladden Walter's heart with some ginger cakes, which he
+had always enjoyed. It was no use: Walter's soul had outgrown ginger
+cakes. This discovery caused Leentje bitter pain.
+
+"But, my dear child, be reasonable, and don't worry over such
+foolishness. This Fancy, or whatever the creature's name is, has
+mocked you; or you have dreamed it all."
+
+"No, no, no, Leentje. It's all true. I know everything she said,
+and it's all true."
+
+"But, Walter, that story about your sister--you would have known that
+long ago."
+
+"I did know it, but I had forgotten it. I knew everything that Fancy
+told me. It had only slipped out of my mind. When she spoke, then it
+all came back to me distinctly."
+
+"I will go to those mills some day," said Leentje.
+
+And she did it. After Walter's description she was able to find
+the place where that important meeting had taken place. She saw
+the timbers, the dirt, the ducks, the meadow--everything was there,
+even the ashes,--everything except Fancy and her stories.
+
+Nor could Walter find Fancy now. In vain did he go out walking with
+those respectable Halleman boys as often as he was in the way at
+home. For hours he would stand on the bridge and listen to the rattling
+of the sawmills; but they told him nothing, and Fancy would not return.
+
+"She has too much to do at my mother's court," Walter sighed, and
+went home sad and disappointed.
+
+When he looked out the window and saw the beautiful stars twinkling
+encouragement to him, he cheered up a little. His sadness was less
+bitter, but it was still there. Pain passed into home-sickness,
+a sweet longing for home, and with tears in his eyes, but no longer
+despairing, he whispered "Omicron, Omicron!"
+
+Who heard that call, or understood his grief over his exile? Who
+observed how that sigh for the "higher" and that fiery desire had
+passed into a nobler state?
+
+After long deliberations and Walter's express promise to do better,
+Master Pennewip had at last been prevailed upon to allow our young
+robber to return to school. He now had the opportunity to perfect
+himself in verse-writing, penmanship, verbs, "Holland Counts" and
+other equally important things.
+
+The teacher said that the boy at Muiderberg had been still worse,
+and he had known what to prescribe. Walter would do all right now,
+he thought; but Juffrouw Pieterse must get another pastor, for the
+present one belonged to the class of "drinkers." This she did. Walter
+was to receive religious instruction from a real preacher.
+
+I don't remember the title of the book, but the first lines were:
+
+
+    "Q. From whom did you and everything in existence have its origin?"
+
+
+Walter wanted to say, From my mother; but the book said:
+
+
+    "Ans. From God, who made everything out of nothing."
+
+    "Q. How do you know that?"
+
+    "Ans. From nature and revelation."
+
+
+Walter didn't know what it meant, but like the good-natured,
+obedient child that he was, he repeated faithfully what he had
+memorized from the book. It was annoying for him to have his
+Sundays spoiled by recitations in the Kings of Israel--days so well
+suited for rambling. He was jealous of the Jews, who were always led
+away--a misfortune that seemed delightful to him. But he worked away
+patiently, and was not the worst of those apprentices in religion. At
+the end of the year he received a book containing three hundred and
+sixty-five scriptural texts, twenty-one prayers, as many graces,
+the Lord's Prayer, the ten commandments and the articles of faith. It
+also contained directions for using it--once a day through the year,
+three times a day for a week, etc., etc.; or simply use as needed. On
+a leaf pasted in the front of the book was written:
+
+
+                           To Walter Pieterse
+                                  as a
+                                 Reward
+                                  for
+                         Excellent recitations
+                                 in the
+                              Noorderkerk
+                               and as an
+                             Encouragement
+                         for him to continue to
+                               Honor God
+                  in the manner in which he has begun.
+
+
+Under this were the names of the preacher and the officers of the
+church, ornamented with flourishes that would have put Pennewip
+to shame.
+
+The outward respectability of the Hallemans continued to increase. The
+parents of these children had hired a garden on the "Overtoom." That
+was so "far out," they said; and then they "couldn't stay in the
+city forever." Besides, the expense was "not so much"; for there was
+one gardener for everybody; and then, there were plenty of berries
+growing there, and that was always very nice. There would be grass
+enough for bleaching the linen--an important item, for just lately,
+said the mother of the Hallemans, there had been iron-rust in Betty's
+dress. For that reason it was the very thing to rent the garden;
+and if people said anything about it, it would only be because they
+were jealous. And, too, there was a barrel there for rainwater; and
+Mrs. Karels had said it leaked, but it was not true; for everyone
+must know what he's doing; but when you do anything, everybody
+is talking about it. If one paid any attention to it, one would
+never get anything done--and it would be such a recreation for the
+children. Juffrouw Karels ought to attend to her own business--and
+when Gustave's birthday came, he might invite some "young gentlemen."
+
+Gustave's birthday came. "Young gentlemen" were to be invited,
+and--Walter was among that select number.
+
+It would lead me too far from the subject to enter upon an
+investigation of the motives that prompted Gustave and Franz to invite
+their former partner in the peppermint business. The list was made out
+and approved by their mother; and as Juffrouw Pieterse felt flattered,
+there was no objection from her side. Walter must promise, of course,
+to behave properly and be "respectable," not to soil his clothes, not
+to wrestle and tear his clothes, and many other things of a similar
+nature. Juffrouw Pieterse added that it was a great favor on her part
+to let him go, for such visits made a lot of work for her.
+
+Yes, Walter was to make a visit! Eat, drink and enjoy himself under
+a strange roof. It was a great event in his life, and already he
+was becoming less jealous of the Jews, who went away so often, and
+finally never came back home at all.
+
+It was midday now--that glorious midday. With indescribable dignity,
+for a boy, Walter stepped through the gate-way. "A little to right--to
+the left, to the left again, then over a bridge, and then to the
+right straight ahead. You can't miss it," Gustave had said. The name
+of the garden was "City Rest," so all Walter had to do was to "ask,"
+and he would "find it."
+
+And so it was.
+
+Anyone making a call or visit for the first time always arrives too
+early. So it was with Walter, who reached City Rest before any of the
+other guests. But the boys received him cordially and presented him
+to their mother, who said that Walter had a pretty face, if it were
+only not so pale.
+
+The other playmates came then, and running and throwing began, in
+the customary boyish style. This was interrupted with waffles and
+lemonade, which they "must drink quite slowly," because they were
+"wet with perspiration."
+
+When the proud mother of the Hallemans was speaking of berries and
+the grossly slandered rainwater barrel, she might have mentioned
+the advantages of the leafy bower, where Betty was now sitting with
+a gentleman.
+
+"Who is that?" asked Walter of little Emma, who was playing with
+the boys.
+
+"That? That's Betty's sweetheart."
+
+From that touching story of slender Cecilia we know that Walter already
+had his first love affair behind him; but still Emma's statement was
+to him something new. Up to that time he had thought that a sweetheart
+was a girl to whom one gives slatepencils and bonbons. But she seemed
+to be above such things. Walter saw immediately that he had not taken
+the right course with Cecilia; and all at once a desire came over
+him to know how a grown man treats a girl who is through school.
+
+"Her sweetheart?"
+
+"Oh yes--engage!"
+
+That word was too modern for Walter. If the reader is sharp he can
+calculate in what year that girl married the barber's apprentice. All
+that is necessary is to determine when that stupid engage came into
+use in this sense in "III. 7, a."
+
+"What did you say?" asked Walter.
+
+"Engage--they go together."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"Oh, they're going to get married. Don't you know?"
+
+Walter was ashamed not to know such a simple thing; and, as is often
+the case, he was ashamed of being ashamed.
+
+"Certainly, of course I know. I hadn't understood right
+well. Emma--will you marry me?"
+
+For the moment Emma was unable to accommodate him, as she was engage
+with her mother; but as soon as she was free she would consider
+the matter, and Walter would probably be favored. She looked at him
+sweetly--and then the game called her to another part of the yard.
+
+Love is the instinct for unity--and the instinct for multiplicity. As
+everywhere, nature is simple here in principle, but manifold in
+application. The love of a thief means: Come, we will go steal
+together. The servant of the Word unites with his loved one in prayer
+and psalm, etc., every animal after his kind.
+
+Or is this instinct to share, to be together, to be united at the
+same the instinct for the good?
+
+In Walter's case it was, even though he himself did not know it. Had
+he not, in the name of Cecilia, liberated a bird that fluttered about
+its narrow cage in distress? Of course Cecilia had laughed and asked
+Walter if he was crazy. She did not know that there was any connection
+between his sympathy for the poor little bird and the beating of his
+heart when he scratched her name on the frozen window-pane in the
+back room. Perhaps she would have understood if she had loved Walter;
+but that was impossible, because he still wore his jacket stuffed in
+his trousers.
+
+At all events, it was not possible for him to think of anything bad
+when he called "Omicron." He had now forgotten Cecilia, and would
+have been greatly surprised if she had appeared in answer to his
+call. Little Emma would have come nearer meeting his requirements.
+
+Walter felt that he must know just how the young man was proceeding
+with Betty in the bower. He soon found an excuse to separate himself
+from his companions; and then he heard all sorts of things that did
+not make him much wiser.
+
+"Yes, I said so too. In May----"
+
+"Certainly, on account of the top story----"
+
+"It's annoying! And what does your mother say?"
+
+"Hm--she says we must wait another year, that it isn't respectable
+to get married in such a hurry--it's just as if----"
+
+"Four years----"
+
+"Yes, four years. Louw and Anna have been engaged for seven."
+
+Walter was proud that he knew exactly what it all meant. To rent
+an upper story together, preferably in May!--that was the way he
+understood it.
+
+"And do you get that press for the linen?"
+
+"No, mother wants to keep it. But if we will only wait a year she
+will give us another one--a small one."
+
+"The big one would have been nicer."
+
+"I think so too, but she says young people don't need a big press. But
+when my sister was married she got a big one."
+
+"Tell them you want a big one too."
+
+"It's no use."
+
+"Try it. I won't marry without that big one."
+
+"I will make them----"
+
+This is a fair sample of what Walter overheard. He was dissatisfied
+and slipped away and hid himself, lost in thought. He didn't even know
+himself what was the matter with him; but when Emma came and called
+him he looked as if he had been thinking of anything else but presses
+and vacant flats, for in a tone at once joyous and fearful he cried:
+
+"Could it be she--my little sister?"
+
+It was evening now, and the children were to continue their games
+indoors. As the little party was tired, one of the grown-ups was
+going to tell a story.
+
+Just what "grown-up" had been requisitioned to narrate the story of
+Paradise and Peri, I don't know. Anyway the story hardly harmonized
+with Betty's engagement and that love-obstructing clothes-press. But
+just as Fortune is said to smile on everyone once in a lifetime, so,
+in the midst of the flatness and insipidity of everyday life, it seems
+that something always happens which gives that one who lays hold of it
+opportunity to lift himself above the ordinary and commonplace. To the
+drowning man a voice calls: "Stretch out thy arms, thou canst swim."
+
+"After Peri had begged long, but in vain, at the gates of paradise to
+be admitted to the land of the blessed, she brought at last, as the
+most beautiful thing in the world, the sigh of a repentant sinner;
+and she found favor with the keeper of the gate on account of the
+sacredness of the gift she had brought----"
+
+"Let's play forfeits now!" cried Gustave.
+
+"Forfeits! Forfeits!" everybody called out after him.
+
+And they played forfeits. Pawns were redeemed; and of course there
+was some kissing done. Riddles were given that nobody could guess;
+and who ever knew must not tell--a usual condition in this game.
+
+"Heavy, heavy hangs over your head; what shall the owner do to
+possess it?"
+
+"Stand on one leg for five minutes."
+
+"Let him jump over a straw--or recite a poem!"
+
+"No, a fable--la cigale, or something like that."
+
+"Yes, yes!"
+
+It was Walter's pawn.
+
+"I don't know any fable," he said, embarrassed; "and I don't know
+French either."
+
+"I will help you," cried Emma. "Le pere, du pere----"
+
+"That's no fable! Go ahead, Walter!"
+
+For some of the party it was a joy that Walter knew no Fable and no
+French. If it were only known how often one can do a kindness by being
+stupid, perhaps many, out of love for humanity, would affect stupidity.
+
+But Walter did not think of the pleasure of the others--which he
+could not have understood. He wept, and was angry at Master Pennewip,
+who had taught him no French and no fable.
+
+"Forward, Walter, forward!" insisted the holder of the pawn.
+
+"It needn't be French. Just tell a fable."
+
+"But I don't know what a fable is."
+
+"Oh, it's a story with animals."
+
+"Yes, or with trees! Le chene un jour dit au roseau--don't you see,
+you can have one without animals."
+
+"Yes, yes, a fable is just a story--nothing else. You can have in it
+anything you want to."
+
+"But it must rhyme!"
+
+Walter was thinking about reciting his robber song, but fortunately
+he reconsidered the matter. That would have been scandalous in the
+home of the Hallemans, who were so particularly respectable.
+
+"No," cried another, who was again wiser than all the rest, "it needn't
+rhyme. The cow gives milk--Jack saw the plums hanging--Prince William
+the First was a great thinker. Don't you see, Walter, it's as easy
+as rolling off of a log. Go ahead and tell something, or else you
+won't get your pawn."
+
+Walter began.
+
+"A little boy died once who was not allowed to go to heaven----"
+
+"Oho! That's the story of Peri. Tell something else."
+
+"I was going to change it," said Walter, embarrassed. "And so the
+little boy couldn't enter the heavenly gates, because he didn't know
+French, and because he had sometimes been bad, and because he hadn't
+learned his lessons, and also because he--because he"----I believe
+Walter had something on the end of his tongue about his mother's
+box of savings, but he swallowed it, that he might not offend the
+Hallemans by any allusion to the peppermint business--"because he
+once laughed during prayers. For it is certain, boys, that if you
+laugh during prayers you'll never get to heaven."
+
+"So--o-oo?" asked several, conscious of their guilt.
+
+"Yes, they can't go to heaven. Now the boy had had a sister, who died
+one year before him. He had loved her a lot, and when he died he began
+to hunt for his sister right away. 'Who is your sister?' he was asked."
+
+"Who asked him that?"
+
+"Be still! Don't interrupt him. Let Walter tell his story!"
+
+"I don't know who asked that. The boy said that his little sister
+had on a blue dress and had dimples in her cheeks, and----"
+
+"Just like Emma!"
+
+"Yes, exactly like Emma. They told him that there was a little girl
+in heaven that looked just like that. She had come the year before,
+and had asked them to let her brother in, who would certainly inquire
+after her. But the boy could not go in. I have already said why."
+
+"Had the little girl always learned her lessons?"
+
+"Of course! Don't you see she had? Let Walter go on with his story!"
+
+"It was sad that he could not get to see his sister any more. He felt
+that it hadn't really been worth the trouble to die. 'Oh, just let
+me in!' he begged the gentleman at the door----"
+
+"At the gate!" corrected several simultaneously, who, though untouched
+by the sublimity of Walter's conception of death, were offended by the
+commonplaceness of the word door. But such things happen frequently.
+
+"All right!" said Walter. He was ashamed that he had offended against
+propriety. "The gentleman at the gate said, 'No!' and then the poor
+boy returned to the earth."
+
+"That won't do," cried the philosophical contingency, "whoever is
+dead remains dead."
+
+"Don't interrupt him. Of course it's only a story!"
+
+Walter continued: "He returned to the earth and learned French. Then
+he appeared at the gate again and said, 'Oui, Monsieur!' but it did
+no good; he was not admitted."
+
+"I should think not; he ought to have said: 'j'aime, tu aimes.'"
+
+"I don't know anything about that," Walter replied.
+
+"Then he went to the earth again and learned his lessons till he
+could say them backwards. He did this for the keeper of the gate;
+but all this did no good; he was not allowed to go in."
+
+"Of course not," cried one of the wise ones, "to get to heaven you
+must be confirmed. Had he been confirmed?"
+
+"No. That's the reason it was so difficult. Then he tried something
+else. He said that he was engaged to his sister."
+
+"Just like Betty," cried Emma.
+
+"Yes, like Betty--and that he loved her and wanted to marry her. But
+it was all of no use; they wouldn't let him into heaven.
+
+"Finally he didn't dare go to the gate any more, for fear the keeper
+would get angry at him."
+
+"And then? What happened?"
+
+"I don't know," Walter stuttered. "I don't know what he ought to do
+to get to heaven."
+
+Walter knew the rest of the story very well, but he couldn't put it
+into words. This was shown in a peculiar manner an hour later.
+
+On the way home the party was almost run over by a wagon just as
+they were crossing a bridge. In the commotion Emma slipped under the
+railing and fell into the stream. Somebody screamed, and Walter sprang
+after her.
+
+If he had died at that moment the keeper of the gate would hardly
+have turned him away because he didn't know French and had not been
+confirmed.
+
+When he was brought home, wet and dirty, Juffrouw Pieterse said that
+one ought not to tempt the Master, and that's what one did when one
+jumped into the water without being able to swim.
+
+But I find that the man who can't swim is the very one to expect
+something of the Master; for the man who can swim has some prospect
+of helping himself.
+
+And Juffrouw Pieterse complained that there was "always something
+the matter with that boy." There was something the matter with him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse must have inherited something, for all at once the
+Pieterses moved to a more respectable neighborhood, and the daughters
+no longer knew any of the girls that they used to sew with. Such things
+do happen in cases of inheritance, when one moves to a more select
+quarter. Besides, there were other signs. They exerted themselves in
+trying to get Leentje to speak "better Dutch." Stoffel was zealous
+in teaching her, but Juffrouw Pieterse spoiled everything by her
+bad example.
+
+Walter was now wearing a new jacket, with a small collar, such as
+cabmen wore later. For him a jacket to stuff in the trousers was a
+thing of the past. It "looked so babyish," the young ladies said,
+and was "out of the question now when the boy can write poetry."
+
+That Walter could write poetry was boasted of to everybody that
+would listen. Under the circumstances they really had no right to
+reap any fame from Walter's robber song; but this only showed what an
+important role vanity plays in the world. Of course he himself never
+heard anything of this; it was mentioned only when he was not present.
+
+The image of Cecilia had disappeared from Walter's heart; and little
+Emma was forgotten. Omicron must show her face in the stars from time
+to time to remind the child of his love. And even when he looked at
+the evening sky and his soul was stirred by an inexpressible longing
+after the good, it was not so much that he was thinking of Omicron
+as that he was moved by vague sweet memories. In the twelve years of
+his life there was a mythical prehistoric period which was difficult
+to separate from the historical period.
+
+He didn't know that he could write verses. He accepted it as a matter
+of course that his robber song was very poor, and looked upon Klaasje
+van der Gracht with awe. It was from Juffrouw Laps he learned that
+he could write poetry; and it was an illumination for him.
+
+Juffrouw Laps had an uncle whose birthday was coming the next week. She
+had paid the Pieterses a swell visit to ask if Walter wouldn't write
+her a poem for the occasion. She would see that he got some bonbons.
+
+"But Juffrouw Pieterse, you must tell him that it must be religious
+and that my uncle is a widower. He must bring that in. I should like
+for it to be in the melody of the 103d psalm, for my uncle has that
+psalm in his lyre."
+
+The reader will note that she did not mean the lyre of Apollo. What
+she spoke of was a thing that turned, and made a screechy noise.
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse was going to speak with Walter about it when he came
+from school, but first she had to consider the matter with Stoffel,
+to decide whether it should be a request or a command, so that Walter
+would have no reason to be "stuck-up." For that she could not endure
+in a child.
+
+"Walter, did you know your lesson?"
+
+"No, mother; I had to learn thirteen mountains in Asia, and I knew
+only nine."
+
+"Now, look here, that won't do. I'm paying tuition for nothing. Do you
+think money grows on my back? I don't know what's to become of you."
+
+"I don't know, either."
+
+After all, though, Walter was flattered by the commission to write
+a poem. Stoffel's and Juffrouw Pieterse's efforts to conceal their
+real opinion of his poetical talents had been useless. It was a
+pleasant surprise for the boy to learn that he was looked up to. He
+had always heard that he was worse than worthless, and that he would
+never amount to anything. It interested him now to hear the assurance
+of his mother and Stoffel that the commission was only a punishment for
+not knowing the mountains in Asia. In a great rush Stoffel taught him
+the difference between "masculine" and "feminine" verses, explaining
+that these must alternate, that all must be of the same length, and
+that if at any time the boy was in doubt he would clear the matter up,
+etc., etc.
+
+Walter was delighted. He went to the back room, got a slate pencil
+and began to write. It could hardly be called a success. "A widower
+of God"--"O God, a widower!" That was as far as he got.
+
+He gnawed on the pencil till he had pulverized it and worn out his
+teeth, but it wouldn't go. He was continually being interrupted
+by Stoffel's masculine and feminine verses. He had been too proud,
+and now he was receiving his punishment. He began to believe that
+his mother was right when she said nothing would ever come of him.
+
+Nor could Leentje help him. So he determined to make another attempt
+to-morrow. Perhaps he could do better then. Leentje agreed with him.
+
+"All right," said Juffrouw Pieterse. "But don't disgrace us
+all. Remember, I told Juffrouw Laps you could do it; and the man's
+birthday comes Thursday week. So you haven't any too much time."
+
+Walter went to Ash Gate, found his bridge and began to weep bitterly.
+
+"See what's the matter with that boy," he heard a woman saying to a
+girl fourteen or fifteen years old. "Perhaps he has lost something."
+
+"Have you lost anything?"
+
+Walter looked up, and was surprised; for he seemed to have seen that
+face before. It reminded him of Fancy.
+
+"Now, everything will be all right There you are; and I have been
+hunting for you."
+
+"For me?"
+
+"Yes, yes, but I just didn't know it. But I know it now. Tell me
+right quick how to write the poem!"
+
+The girl, who was helping her mother place the linen on the grass for
+bleaching, looked at Walter in astonishment. She hurried back to her
+mother to say that she didn't know what was the matter with the boy,
+but that there was certainly something wrong. "He looks as if he were
+scared half to death," she decided.
+
+Then she ran and fetched water from the house near by and made Walter
+drink. He saw that he had made a mistake; but there was something in
+the manner of the girl that drew him to her irresistibly, even though
+her name was only Femke. So the mother addressed her. And this name
+reminded him of Fancy, which was something.
+
+Femke pointed to an inverted basket and told him to tell the cause of
+his trouble; and Walter did it as well as he could, while the mother
+was busy with the linen.
+
+"Maybe I can help you," the mother said. "I have a nephew who is
+a widower."
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw--but the poem? And there must be something about God
+in it."
+
+"Certainly. It's a long story. His wife was a niece of my
+husband's--you see we are Catholics, and she acted according to
+her religion--put a stone on those cloths, Femke, or they'll blow
+away--yes, bleaching is a job. You have no idea what a bother
+it is--yes, she acted according to her religion; and that was
+right. People that don't do that are not much. But he--draw that
+shirt back a little, Femke. The sleeve is hanging in the ditch--but
+he didn't believe in it, and said it was all nonsense. But when she
+died, and he saw all that was done for her--it was Father Jansen who
+was there. Of course you know him--he always walks with a black cane,
+but he never lets it touch the ground----"
+
+The women looked at Walter questioningly. The poor boy sat on the
+basket, his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands. He had listened
+with open mouth, wondering how he was going to apply it all to his
+poem. Of Father Jansen and that cane which despised the ground he
+had never heard. This he had to confess.
+
+"Yes, it was Father Jansen who was there, and when my husband's nephew
+saw all that--don't spill any, Femke, or the mud will splatter so
+bad--yes, when he saw that a human being doesn't die like an animal,
+then he was more respectful, and after that he observed Easter like
+other people. And last year when he broke his leg--he's a dyer,
+you know--he drew thirteen stivers for nine weeks. And so I wanted
+to tell you that there's a widower in our family. And now you must
+get up, for I need the basket."
+
+Walter arose quickly, as if he feared he might seem to be trespassing;
+and the woman went away, after having warned Femke to watch the linen
+and call her if any bad boys should come along.
+
+"Are you better now?" Femke asked kindly.
+
+"Oh yes; but I don't see how I'm to use all that in my poem. You
+must remember that it has to rhyme, and the verses must be of the
+same length, and that they must be masculine and feminine; for my
+brother said so, and he's a school-teacher."
+
+Femke reflected, then all at once she cried, "Do you know Latin?" As
+if Latin would help Walter.
+
+"No," disconsolately.
+
+"Well, it really makes no difference. It's in Dutch, too. Just watch
+the linen a minute."
+
+Walter promised, and Femke ran to the house.
+
+Then some boys came along throwing rocks. Walter, conscious of his
+responsibility, called to them to desist--or words to that effect. This
+only made them worse. They came closer, and, to worry Walter, began to
+walk over the linen. For him it was as if they were mistreating Femke,
+and he charged on the miscreants. But it was two against one, and a
+weaker one at that; so he would have soon been defeated if his lady had
+not returned quickly. She rescued him and drove off his assailants; and
+when she saw that his lip was bleeding she gave him a kiss. The boy's
+heart trembled; all at once his soul was lifted to an unfamiliar level;
+and for the first time in weeks he felt again that princely nature
+that had given Leentje such a fright. His eyes shone, and the boy,
+who but a moment ago did not know how he was to write some rhymes,
+was filled with the feelings and emotions that make poets of men.
+
+"O Fancy, Fancy, to die for thee--to die with such a kiss on the lips!"
+
+It hurt him to think that the boys were gone. If there had been ten
+of them he would have had courage for the unequal fight.
+
+And Femke, who had never heard of poetical overflows, understood him
+immediately, for she was a pure, innocent girl. She felt Walter's
+chivalry, and knew that she was the lady to reward it.
+
+"You are a dear sweet boy," she said, taking his head between her
+hands and kissing him again, and again--as if she had done something
+of this kind before. But such was not the case.
+
+"And now you must read the verses in the little book. Maybe it will
+help you to write for your aunt----"
+
+"She isn't my aunt," Walter said, "but of course I will look through
+the book."
+
+He laid it on the railing of the bridge and began to read. Femke,
+who was taller than he, had put one arm around his neck, while with
+the other hand she was pointing out what he should read.
+
+"Don't you see?" she said, "the lines are the same length."
+
+"Yes, but they don't rhyme." And Walter read:
+
+
+    Mother most pure,
+    Mother undefiled,
+    Virgin most powerful,
+    Virgin most merciful,
+    Virgin most faithful,
+    Spiritual vessel,
+    Vessel of honor,
+    Vessel of singular devotion,
+    Mystical rose,
+    Tower of David,
+    Tower of Ivory,
+    Gate of Heaven----
+
+
+"But, Femke, how am I to use that for my poem? I don't understand
+any of it."
+
+Femke didn't understand much of it either. She had been reading the
+book every day for the past four or five years, and she had always been
+satisfied with her comprehension of it. But now she saw that she was
+as ignorant about it as Walter. She was ashamed and closed the book.
+
+"But don't you know what Faith is?" she asked, as if this defect
+might account for the general ignorance of both.
+
+"Not that way," Walter replied. "I learned it another way."
+
+"But you believe in Jesus, don't you?"
+
+"Oh, yes. That's God's son. But I didn't learn anything about vessels
+and towers. Do they belong to faith?"
+
+"Why, certainly! But you know the holy virgin, Maria!"
+
+"So? Maria? No, I don't."
+
+"And Purgatory?"
+
+"I don't know anything about it."
+
+"And confession?"
+
+"No."
+
+"What do you do then?"
+
+"How do you mean, Femke?"
+
+"I mean to be saved."
+
+"I don't know," Walter replied. "You mean, to get to heaven?"
+
+"Why, certainly. That's the point. And you can't do that without the
+holy virgin and such a book. Shall I teach you the creed, Walter? Then
+we'll be together in heaven."
+
+That pleased Walter, and Femke and Walter began:
+
+"God created the world----"
+
+"What did he do before that, Femke?"
+
+"I don't know. But the people were made wicked by a snake; then the
+Pope pronounced a curse upon the snake, for the Pope lives in Rome,
+you know. And then Jesus was crucified to make the people good
+again. That was a long time ago."
+
+"Yes, I know," Walter said, "Jesus changed the number of the year. At
+his birth he began at nought."
+
+Femke didn't know again. In this way each supplemented the knowledge
+of the other; and Walter was proud that he knew something about the
+creed, even if Femke did think it the wrong creed.
+
+"And so Jesus made the people good again, and if you will pray out
+of such a book you will be saved. Do you understand, Walter?"
+
+"Not quite. What is an ivory tower?"
+
+"Why, that's only a name for the virgin. It's as if you were to call
+the pastor father. Now you understand."
+
+Femke hunted for another illustration.
+
+"You have a mother; what do you call her?"
+
+"Why, I call her mother."
+
+"Correct. What do the other people call her?"
+
+"They call her Juffrouw Pieterse."
+
+"Just so. When we call the holy virgin 'ivory tower' it's just like
+calling your mother Juffrouw Pieterse. Ivory gate means that to get
+to heaven we must go through the holy virgin. That's the main thing."
+
+"But, Femke, what is a virgin?"
+
+Femke blushed.
+
+"That is anybody that has never had a child."
+
+"Me?" asked Walter in astonishment.
+
+"No, child, it must be a girl!"
+
+"Are you a virgin?"
+
+"Of course!"
+
+Femke spoke the unvarnished truth.
+
+"Of course--because I'm not married."
+
+"But Maria was married--and Jesus was her child."
+
+"Ah, that's where the holiness comes in," replied Femke. "And for that
+reason she is called the ivory gate. Do you understand now, Walter?"
+
+Walter did not understand; but he asked permission to take the book
+home with him, that he might study it. That, however, was not possible,
+as Femke needed the book every day. Walter consoled himself easily,
+for not for anything in the world would he have endangered Femke's
+salvation. Femke asked him to come again. She would be glad to tell
+him all she knew about the matter; and, if both should get tangled up,
+she would ask Father Jansen about it. And then Walter would soon be
+as wise as she was.
+
+Walter withdrew; i. e., after he had kissed Femke heartily. This
+meeting with her, the mysterious book, salvation, the fight with the
+boys--all these things would run through his mind whenever he tried
+to think of the poem. It seemed to him that there was some connection
+between them.
+
+When he got home he turned through Stoffel's books, hoping to find
+something about holy vessels, ivory towers, and immaculate virgins. But
+they were all school books, and gave information about everything
+else but salvation. Walter was crushed, but he was still searching.
+
+"Master Pennewip had a father and mother; and certainly old Pennewip,
+too, who slaughtered hogs; and the one before him, too--but who was the
+first Pennewip? And who slaughtered the hogs before old Pennewip? And
+before there were any hogs, what did butchers do? And----"
+
+I will know all of that some day, Walter thought. If he could have only
+quieted himself so well about his poem! If that were only written, he
+thought, then he would clear up the lost causes of everything. In the
+meanwhile he dreamed of Femke, of her blue eyes, her friendliness,
+her soft lips--and of her voice, when she said, "You are a dear,
+sweet boy."
+
+Could it be that she is Omicron? he thought.
+
+And thus the child dreamed, dreamed; and, just as in the development
+of humanity, in his life was working a three-fold impulse, towards
+love, knowledge, and conflict.
+
+"But Walter, don't you read any books at home about the creed?"
+
+Thus Femke questioned her little friend the next day, as he sat on
+her basket again.
+
+"Yes, but they're not pretty."
+
+"Don't you know anything by heart?"
+
+Walter repeated a stanza of a reformed church hymn. This found no
+favor with Femke; though she liked his reciting.
+
+"Don't you read anything else?"
+
+Walter reflected: he flew through Stoffel's library--works of the
+Poetical Society, Geology by Ippel, On Orthography, Regulations
+for the Fire-Watch, Story of Joseph by Hulshoff, Brave Henry, Jacob
+Among His Children, Sermons by Hellendoorn, A Catechism by the same,
+Hoorn's Song-book.
+
+He felt that all of this would not prove very imposing for
+Femke. Finally:
+
+"I do know something, but it isn't about faith and the creed. It's
+about Glorioso."
+
+Femke promised to listen, and he began to relate the story. At first
+he spoke mechanically, using all the "and then's": but soon he put
+himself into the soul of the hero and told the story better than he
+had read it in the greasy book. At every deed of Glorioso he would
+spring from the basket and act the part of that hero in a way that
+made Femke's blood run cold. Still, how magnificent she found it! And
+when at last he was through, a spark from his peculiar but sincere
+enthusiasm had fallen into her heart, which like his beat with delight
+over the beauty of what she had heard. Her cheeks glowed--really,
+if a Treckschent had started to Italy at that moment I believe she
+would have gone along, in order to take part in so much danger and
+adventure--and love. The nicest thing about the story was that it
+showed how firm such a robber is in the faith.
+
+"Don't you know another story?"
+
+"Yes," said Walter. "One more. It's in a little book--a calendar,
+I believe."
+
+And he related the story of Telasco and Kusco and the beautiful
+Aztalpa.
+
+Telasco and Kusco, sons of the King of the Sun-worshipers, were
+twins; and so both were equally near the throne. They loved each other
+devotedly; so which would give way for the other? Which of the two was
+to become Inca? Funeral pyres were built, one for each, and prayers
+were offered to the sun that one of the piles might be ignited. But the
+sun did not light either. He ordered that Aztalpa, the sister, should
+choose one. That one to whom she offered her hand should inherit the
+throne and the empire. But the princess could not decide, for she
+loved them both dearly and both equally. It was then decided that
+both should go out hunting on a certain morning, and that the one who
+killed the first doe should become king. Telasco had red arrows, Kusco
+blue. The morning came. The brothers were lying in a thicket as the
+deer approached. Both fired, and both missed. Then they swore mutually
+not to miss intentionally the next time. They kept the oath, and two
+deer fell; but Telasco had shot one of Kusco's arrows, and Kusco one
+of Telasco's. Telasco then proposed that Aztalpa should be killed,
+to avoid any discord in the empire; and in the other world both would
+enjoy the same place in her affections. All agreed to this; but when
+the fatal day came, Aztalpa fell on her knees before Telasco and begged
+that she might receive her death at the hand of Kusco. Telasco cried:
+"Aztalpa, you have chosen!" All bowed down before Kusco; and when
+they looked for Telasco he had disappeared. He was never seen again.
+
+Often Femke interrupted with questions, for there was much that was
+strange and wonderful to her; but she was charmed with the story and
+shared all of Walter's enthusiasm.
+
+"I tell you, though, Walter, if that girl had known what Telasco was
+up to she wouldn't have done it. But the story is beautiful. I wonder
+if such things really happen."
+
+"That was far from here, Femke, and a long time ago. That's just the
+way it was in the book. But now I must go home, for I haven't a stiver
+to pay the gate-keeper if I come in after eight. Oh, Femke--if I were
+only through with that poetry business."
+
+"It will turn out all right. Just think of Telasco. He had a difficult
+task, too."
+
+"No! I will think of the girl. Good-evening, Femke----"
+
+Walter received the hearty kiss that his story had earned him, and
+dreaming of Aztalpa, who was guarding the linen, he passed through
+the Ash Gate and turned towards home. The moon shone so brightly that
+he was annoyed not to have been able to remain with Femke. How much
+better, he thought, could he have told his story by moonlight! But
+he didn't have the price--a stiver.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+The moon paused on the sky, as if she were weary of her lonely
+lot. Was she grieved because ungrateful humanity had fallen asleep
+and was ignoring her?--or because of the light borrowed from her
+for thousands of years, and none returned? She poured forth her
+sorrow in heart-breaking noiseless elegies till the night-wind was
+moved to pity. Whish! he went through the trees; and the leaves
+danced. Crash! he went over the roof; and the tiles flew away, and
+chimneys bowed meekly; and over the walls and ditches the sawmills
+danced with the logs they were to saw. There a girl sat sleeping. Could
+it be Femke? The linen danced about her to the music of the wind, the
+shirts making graceful bows and extending their sleeves. Nightcaps,
+dickeys and drawers danced the minuet; stockings, skirts, collars,
+handkerchiefs waltzed thicker and thicker around the sleeping girl. Her
+curls began to flutter--a smile, a sigh, and she sprang to her feet. A
+whirlwind caught her up and----
+
+"O, heavens, Femke, Femke!" and Walter grasped at the apparition that
+was being borne away towards the moon in a cloud of stockings, socks,
+drawers, shirts and collars.
+
+"Mother! Walter's pinching me," cried Laurens, the printer's
+apprentice; and Juffrouw Pieterse groaned, that those boys couldn't
+even keep quiet at night.
+
+The "House of Pieterse" gathered at Walter's bed. There was the noble
+mother of the family enveloped in a venerable jacket that fell in broad
+folds over a black woolen skirt. There was Trudie, with her stupid blue
+eyes; and Myntje and Pietje--but what am I talking about? In the new
+home Trudie had become Gertrude, like a morganatic princess in Hessia;
+and Myntje was now Mina, but preferred to be called Mine, as that
+sounded more Frenchy. But her stupid face remained unchanged. Pietje
+was now Pietro. Stoffel had said that was a very swell name.
+
+Stoffel, too, had now appeared on the scene, to the great astonishment
+of his mother, who expected so much of him. This fine sense of
+propriety had been developed in the new home.
+
+"What's the matter with you, boy?" cried everybody at once.
+
+"Oh, mother, Femke--Femke!"
+
+"The boy is foolish." That was the unanimous verdict of the family.
+
+And they were not altogether wrong. Walter was delirious.
+
+"They are carrying her away--around and around--Daughter of the Sun,
+decide--here is Telasco--thou shalt die, Aztalpa--Femke, stay,
+stay, I will watch the clothes--I will shoot the doe--a widower
+of God--together through the ivory gate--there she is again--stay,
+Omicron!"
+
+"Ought we to call in a preacher?" asked Juffrouw Pieterse
+hesitatingly. She didn't know whether praying was needed or a
+whipping--or both.
+
+And now, perhaps for the first time in his life, Stoffel expressed a
+sensible thought: "Mother, we ought to have a doctor. Walter is sick."
+
+Walter had nervous fever. It was fortunate for him that a doctor was
+called in, and still more fortunate that it was a man who understood
+Walter's mental troubles. He exerted a most wholesome influence on
+the boy; though this came later, as at first he could only treat
+the disease.
+
+On Juffrouw Pieterse, too, he had a good influence. To her great
+astonishment, he explained to her that children ought not to be
+packed together in a bed as if they were superfluous pieces of
+furniture being thrown aside; that air, light, play, enjoyment,
+exercise are all necessary for the development of body and soul;
+that whipping does no good, and that she had better dispense with her
+"divine worship." He told her of other things she had never heard of;
+and she listened willingly, for the doctor----
+
+"Ah, dear Juffrouw Laps, you must manage to be here when he comes. He
+writes the prescriptions with a gold pen; and his coachman wears a
+brown bear-skin cape."
+
+That gold pen and the bear-skin cape! Ah, if everyone who preaches
+truth could only dress up his coachman so swell! But alas, alas--I
+know a great many people who love the truth, and they have no coachman
+at all--not to mention the bear-skin.
+
+And gold pens often get into the wrong hands.
+
+"I just wanted Juffrouw Zipperman to come sometime when the doctor's
+here. Run and tell her, Gertrude, that I said Walter was sick,
+and say that we have lunch about twelve. He came about that time
+yesterday. And Leentje, you go to the grocer's--we need salt--have
+something to say about it--it's not just to be gossiping, you know--I
+despise gossip--but I would like to know if the people have noticed
+it. And you, Pietro, remember that you are to give me a clean cap
+when he comes--for the doctor is such an elegant gentleman, and such
+a doctor! And all that he said--I drank it all in. Mina, you mustn't
+stare at him again like that; it's not proper. But I'm curious to
+know if the people at the grocer's have seen him!"
+
+I shouldn't like to be severe on her; but it seems to me that Juffrouw
+Pieterse was gradually beginning to take pleasure in Walter's illness.
+
+There is something swell in having such a carriage standing before
+one's door.
+
+Juffrouw Laps had come: "But dear Juffrouw Pieterse, what am I to do
+about my uncle? You are invited; and I have told him that there will
+be a poem."
+
+"Very bad, Juffrouw Laps. You can see though that that poor worm
+can't write the poem. What about Stoffel? Why not ask him to write it?"
+
+"It's all right with me. Just so it's a poem; otherwise I'm disgraced."
+
+Stoffel was requested to take Walter's place, but he raised objections
+at once.
+
+"You don't know what that would mean, mother. I would lose the respect
+of the boys. For anyone working with youth, respect is the main thing;
+and such a poem----"
+
+"But the boys at school need not know it."
+
+"But the man would tell somebody and then--you don't understand it. At
+the Diaconate school there was a fellow who wrote verses; and what
+has become of him? He went to India, mother, and he still owes me for
+half a bottle of ink. That's the way it goes, mother. For me to write
+such a poem? No, no, mother--for a boy like Walter it's all right;
+but when one is already a teacher!"
+
+"And Master Pennewip?" cried Juffrouw Laps.
+
+"The very man!" cried Stoffel, as if this supported his former
+argument. "A happy thought! Master Pennewip will do it."
+
+"I've read a poem by him, Stoffel."
+
+"Yes, yes. And you've read a poem by him. That's because--but how
+shall I explain that to you, Juffrouw Laps? You know that in teaching
+there are all kinds of things. Take Geography, for example. I will just
+mention one fact: Madrid is on the Manganares. Understand, mother?"
+
+"Yes, yes, Stoffel. That's just as if you were to say----"
+
+"Amsterdam on the Y. Exactly so. And then there are many, many more
+things, Juffrouw Laps. You have no idea how much there is of it. A
+grocer mixes sugar with something else. He must calculate exactly
+what he must get for a pound in order not to lose money. Think of
+it! And then you have partnership, and breakage, and the verbs--but
+I must go before those rascals break everything."
+
+Stoffel returned to school earlier than usual, without having
+diminished Juffrouw Laps's difficulties very much. That poor woman
+could not comprehend how geography and Madrid and the grocer and
+partnerships made it impossible for Stoffel to write verses. Juffrouw
+Pieterse smoothed the matter over as well as she could and sent
+Juffrouw Laps to Master Pennewip.
+
+That gentleman was alarmed when he saw the angry "sucking animal,"
+but he quieted down as soon as he heard the object of her visit.
+
+"To what class does your uncle belong, Juffrouw?"
+
+"Why, to the class--you mean the mussel-shells and eggs?"
+
+"No, no, Juffrouw, I mean on which rung of the ladder is he--how high
+up. I repeat it, on what rung--it's a figure, Juffrouw--on what rung
+of the social ladder?"
+
+"In the grain business? Is that what you mean?"
+
+"That is not sufficient, Juffrouw Laps. One may be in the grain
+business as a pastry cook, a baker, a retailer, a wholesaler, or as a
+broker; and all these vocations have their peculiar sub-divisions. Take
+Joseph in Egypt, for example. This man of God, whom some place in
+the class of patriarchs, while others claim--but let that be as it
+may. It is certain that Joseph bought corn and was on the topmost
+rung of the ladder, for we read in Genesis, chapter 41----"
+
+"Yes, indeed, he rode in Pharaoh's carriage, and he wore a white silk
+coat. My uncle is an agent, and my father was the same."
+
+"So-o-oo?  Agent!  That's something Moses doesn't mention, and I
+don't know in what class----" He spoke slowly, puzzling over his words.
+
+"Besides, my uncle is a widower."
+
+"Ah, there we have the difference! We read that Joseph wooed Asnath,
+the daughter of Potiphar; but nowhere do we read that his spouse was
+already dead when he went into the corn business. Therefore, Juffrouw
+Laps, if it is your earnest desire to have a pious poem written on
+your uncle, I advise you to go to my pupil, Klaasje van der Gracht."
+
+He explained to her where that prodigy might be found.
+
+Again I must beg pardon if my criticism of Pennewip is too severe; but
+he gave me reasons enough to harbor ugly suspicions against him. I am
+convinced that he would have written that poem for Juffrouw Laps if
+her uncle had received a white silk coat from the king, or had ever
+driven through The Hague in a royal carriage. But to sing an agent in
+verse! He would leave that to the genius of "the flying tea-kettle"
+in the Peperstraat. That was not nice of Pennewip. Was that uncle
+to blame because his brothers never threw him into a well? or sold
+him into Egypt? Or because he couldn't interpret dreams? Or because
+cleverness is not rewarded to-day with rings, white coats, carriages
+and high official position?
+
+Juffrouw Laps footed it over to the Peperstraat, where she made
+the acquaintance of the elder van der Gracht. The old gentleman
+felt flattered.
+
+He was most gracious, and assured the Juffrouw that the poem should
+be written that very evening. Klaasje could bring it over the next
+morning and repeat it to Juffrouw Laps, and if it were found worthy
+as an expression of her feelings toward her uncle, then Klaasje was
+to be invited to be present on that evening. The father assured her
+that Klaasje would wear a white stand-up collar.
+
+"Just like Joseph," said the Juffrouw. "Everything is in the Bible."
+
+When she got home she read the forty-first chapter of Genesis,
+trying to find the relation of Klaasje's apotheosis to Joseph's
+exaltation. That night she dreamed she had a mantle in her hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+It was the afternoon of the day on which Juffrouw Laps sought out
+Klaasje van der Gracht, and Walter was lying in bed, still weak but
+no longer delirious. The doctor had ordered rest and quiet. The child
+counted the flowers in the curtain, and, in his imagination tried
+to arrange them in some other order. He allowed them to jump over
+one another, or flow into one another. He saw in them faces, forms,
+armies, clouds--and all were alive and moving. It was tiresome, but
+he couldn't do anything else. If he turned his face toward the wall
+it was still worse. The hieroglyphic scratches on the wall told him
+all sorts of things that he didn't need to know and overwhelmed him
+with unnecessary impressions. He closed his eyes; but still he found
+no rest. It seemed to him as if he were being swept away to take part
+in that entertainment that the night-wind gave the moon. Everything
+was turning round and round, taking him along. He seized his head in
+both hands, as if he would stop his imagination by main strength; but
+it was useless. The curtains, the cords, the wall, the flowers, the
+dance, the whirlwind that tore Femke away--his efforts to hold her----
+
+The boy burst into tears. He knew that it was all imagination; he
+knew that he was sick; he knew that chimneys don't dance, and that
+girls are not blown to the moon; and yet----
+
+Weeping he called Femke's name softly, not loud enough to be heard
+by the others, but loud enough to relieve his own depression.
+
+"What's that?" he cried suddenly. "Does she answer? Is that
+imagination, too?"
+
+Actually, Walter heard his name called, and it was Femke's voice!
+
+"I must know whether I'm dreaming, or not," he said, and straightened
+himself up in bed. "That is a red flower, that is a black one, I am
+Walter, Laurens is a printer's apprentice--everything is all right;
+and I'm not dreaming."
+
+He leaned out of bed and listened again, his mouth and eyes as wide
+open as he could get them, as if the senses of taste and sight were
+going to reinforce that of hearing.
+
+"O, God! Femke's voice! Yes, yes, it is Femke!" He jumped out of bed,
+ran out the door, and half ran, half fell down the steps.
+
+To return to Femke for a little while. She had expected Walter at
+the bridge the next day after the story of the sun-worshipers. At
+first she thought that Walter was waiting till he could borrow from
+Stoffel the book with the picture showing Aztalpa embracing the two
+brothers. She wanted to see Walter with the picture; now she would have
+been satisfied with him without the picture. It couldn't be the boy's
+person, she thought--such a child!--but he did recite so well. Perhaps
+in the heart of the girl Walter and his recitals had already coalesced.
+
+"Put the clothes in the sun," cried her mother; and Femke translated
+that: Sun--Peru--Aztalpa--Kusco--Walter.
+
+"Run those fighters away; they'll throw dirt on the clothes."
+
+Femke dreamed: Courageously fighting against the enemies of the
+country--the noblest tribe of the Incas--Telasco--Walter.
+
+Everything seemed to be calling for Walter; but he did not come.
+
+The first day she was sad; the second, impatient; the third, restless.
+
+"Mother, I'm going to see what's become of the little boy who was
+going to write a poem."
+
+"Do, my child!" said the mother. "Do you think you will find him?"
+
+Femke nodded; but her nod was not convincing. She did not know where
+Walter lived and was afraid to say so. It took courage to start out to
+trace the child when she didn't know where he lived; and this courage
+she wished to conceal. And why? Just timidity incident to the tender
+feelings. Sometimes we conceal the good and boast of the bad.
+
+The girl dressed herself as prettily as she could and put all her
+money in her pocket. It was only a few stivers. She hurried through
+Ash Gate and inquired where the shop was that lent books. Thus she
+came directly to the Hartenstraat. She simply retraced the steps of
+our hero, when he made that first sally with Glorioso.
+
+Less timid than Walter--Femke was older, and had had more experience
+with men--she asked the gruff fellow in a business-like way for
+"the book about the countess with the long train or her dress."
+
+"What? What's the title?"
+
+"I don't know," Femke said. "It's about a robber--and the Pope's
+mentioned in it, too. I am hunting for the boy who read the book. I
+wanted to ask where he lives--I will pay you for your trouble."
+
+"Do you think I'm a fool? Am I here to hunt for boys?"
+
+"But, M'neer, I will pay you," the girl said, and laid the money on
+the counter.
+
+"Oh, get on! What do I know about your boy?"
+
+Femke got angry now.
+
+"I haven't done anything, and you can't run me off like that. No,
+you can't. If you don't want to tell me, you needn't to. You are an
+unaccommodating fellow!"
+
+She was going to leave, when it occurred to her to ask, "And won't
+you lend me a book, either?"
+
+"Yes, you can get a book. What do you want?"
+
+"That book about the robber and Amalia," said Femke. She felt now that
+she was a "customer," and oh, how proud she had become all at once!
+
+"I don't know anything about such a book. Do you mean Rinaldo
+Rinaldini?"
+
+"No. Is there more than one robber book? Just call over the names of
+them for me."
+
+This was said with an air of importance that was not without its effect
+on the shopman. He pulled down the catalogue, and soon he came to
+"Glorioso."
+
+"That's it, that's it!" cried Femke, delighted.
+
+"But you must deposit a forfeit," the man said, as he mounted the
+ladder to get that precious book.
+
+"No, no, I don't want the book at all. I only want to know where the
+boy lives who read it. I will pay you gladly," and she pointed to
+her money.
+
+"That isn't necessary," he said. "I don't mind accommodating you when
+you ask me politely."
+
+He looked in the register and found the name Femke had mentioned, with
+the address. He showed it to her, and was even going to explain to her
+the best way to get there; but Femke was already out the door. The
+fellow had difficulty in overtaking her to return the money she had
+forgotten on the counter.
+
+When she reached the address given, Femke learned that the Pieterses
+had moved to a "sweller neighborhood." It was quite a distance away;
+but Femke was not deterred by that.
+
+Once at the Pieterses', she was received by the young ladies with a
+rough, "What do you want?"
+
+"Oh, Juffrouw, I wanted to ask about Walter."
+
+"Who are you?"
+
+"I am Femke, Juffrouw, and my mother is a wash-woman. I would like
+to know if Walter is all right."
+
+"What have you got to do with Walter?" asked Juffrouw Pieterse,
+who had heard the commotion and came down.
+
+"Ah, Juffrouw, don't be angry--I wanted to know; and my mother knows
+that I've come to ask. Walter told me about Telasco, and the girl
+that was to die--oh, Juffrouw, tell me if he's sick! I cannot sleep
+till I know."
+
+"That's none of your business. Go, I tell you! I don't want strange
+people standing around the door."
+
+"For mercy's sake, Juffrouw!" cried the girl, wringing her hands.
+
+"The girl's crazy. Put her out, Trudie, and slam the door!"
+
+Trudie began to execute the order. Myntje and Pietje got ready to
+help her; but the child clung to the balustrade and held her ground.
+
+"Throw her out! The impudent thing!"
+
+"Oh, Juffrouw, I'm not impudent. I will go. Just tell me whether
+Walter is sick. Tell me, and I will go right now. Just tell me if
+he's sick--if, if he's going--to die."
+
+The poor child began to weep. Anybody else but those Pieterse women
+would have been touched at the sight. They were too far up the ladder.
+
+Plainer people, or nobler people would have understood Femke. Feeling,
+sympathy, is like the money in a gambling-place. It doesn't come
+to everybody. There wenches and countesses sit side by side; merely
+respectable people, who sell shoes made in Paris, are not there.
+
+"I won't go!" cried Femke. "Oh, God! I won't go! I will know whether
+that child is sick!"
+
+A door was heard opening above; and Walter came in sight. He tumbled
+down the steps and fell unconscious at Femke's feet.
+
+"That boy!" groaned the old lady, while the girls stood as if
+transfixed. Femke picked Walter up and carried him upstairs. His
+bed was pointed out to her, and she placed him in it. No one had the
+courage to run her away when she took a chair by the bedside. If at
+this moment the rights of the Pieterses and Femke had been voted upon,
+all the votes would have gone to Femke.
+
+She wept, and stammered "Don't be angry, Juffrouw; but I couldn't
+sleep for thinking of him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+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 role 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 preeminently
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+Walter's illness now took a favorable turn. As soon as he was
+strong enough to leave his bed, the whole family noticed that he
+had grown. All remarked about it and called each other's attention to
+it. No one was better convinced of the fact than Juffrouw Pieterse; for
+"that boy" had "outgrown all of his clothes," and it would not be easy
+"to fit him out respectably again." So much interesting notoriety and
+respectability had been reaped from Walter's illness that it was only
+natural that his convalescence should be turned to the best account.
+
+The child would sit and fill in the colors in pictures. The doctor
+had presented him the pictures and a box of colors. The latter,
+so Stoffel said, were the genuine English article.
+
+Oh, such pictures!
+
+Walter was interested especially by pictures from the opera and the
+tragedy. There were pictures from Macbeth, Othello, Lear, Hamlet,
+from "The Magic Flute," "The Barber of Seville," "Der Freischuetz,"
+and from still a few more--each one always more romantic than the
+last. In selecting suitable colors for his heroes and heroines, Walter
+had the advice of the entire family, including Leentje. Usually there
+was disagreement, but that only made the matter more important. In
+only two details were they agreed: faces and hands were to have
+flesh-color, and lips were to be painted red. It had always been
+that way; otherwise, why was it called flesh-color? On account of
+this arrangement Hamlet came off rather badly, receiving a much more
+animated countenance than was suited to his melancholy.
+
+"I wish I knew what the dolls mean," said Walter. He was talking
+about his pictures.
+
+"It's only necessary to ask Stoffel," his mother replied. "Wait till
+he comes from school."
+
+Walter asked him. Stoffel--there are more such people in the
+world--would never admit that he did not know a thing; and he always
+knew how to appear knowing.
+
+"What the dolls mean? Well, you see--those are, so to say, the pictures
+of various persons. There, for instance, the one with a crown on his
+head--that is a king."
+
+"I told you Stoffel could explain them," corroborated his mother.
+
+"Yes, but I should have liked to know what king, and what he did."
+
+"Well! There it is at the bottom. You can read it, can't you?"
+
+"Macbeth?"
+
+"Certainly. It's Macbeth, a famous king of ancient times."
+
+"And that one there with a sword in his hand?"
+
+"Also a king, or a general, or a hero, or something of the
+kind--somebody that wants to fight. Perhaps David, or Saul, or
+Alexander the Great. That's not to be taken so exactly."
+
+"And the lady with the flowers? She seems to be tearing them up."
+
+"That one? Show her to me: Ophelia. Yes, that's Ophelia. Don't
+you know?"
+
+"Yes. Why does she throw the leaves on the ground?"
+
+"Why? why? The questions you do ask!"
+
+Here the mother came to the rescue of her eldest son.
+
+"Yes, Walter, you mustn't ask more questions than anybody can answer."
+
+Walter did not ask any more questions, but he determined to get to
+the bottom of the matter at the first opportunity. His imagination
+roamed over immeasurable domains--such an insatiate conqueror was
+the little emperor Walter in his night-jacket!
+
+He associated the heroes of his pictures with the doctor, who had been
+so friendly to him, and with his immortal Glorioso. The Peruvian story,
+too, furnished a few subjects for his empire. He married Telasco to
+Juliet; and the priests of the sun got their rights again. Master
+Pennewip received a new wig, but of gold-colored threads, on the
+model of the straw crown of a certain King Lear. Persons that he
+could see from the window were numbered among his subjects. He had
+to do something; and this foreign material was preferable to that in
+his immediate surroundings. Even Lady Macbeth, who was washing her
+hands and not looking particularly pleasing, seemed to him to be of
+a higher order than his mother or Juffrouw Laps.
+
+In fact, for him those pictures were the greatest things in
+the world. He was carried away with the crowns, diadems, plumes,
+iron gratings over the faces, with the swords and the daggers with
+cross-hilts to swear on--with the trains and puff-sleeves and girdles
+with pendents of gold--and the pages. All this had nothing in common
+with his everyday surroundings. How is it possible, he thought, that
+anyone who has such beautiful pictures should sell them? The doctor
+must have inherited them!
+
+Even if he had known that Lady Macbeth was the personification of
+crime, it would still have seemed to him a profanation to bring her
+into contact with the plebeian commonness around him.
+
+All at once something in Ophelia's form reminded him of Femke. She
+too could stand that way, plucking the petals from the flowers and
+strewing them on the ground.
+
+He had dim recollections of what had happened, and occasionally he
+would ask indifferently about "that girl." He was afraid to speak
+her name before Gertrude, Mina, and Pietro. He was always answered in
+tones that showed him that there was no room for his romance there;
+but he promised himself to visit her as soon as he got up.
+
+"When you're better you must go to see the doctor and thank him
+for curing you--but thank God first; and then you can show him what
+you've painted."
+
+"Of course, mother! I will give her the Prince of Denmark--I mean him,
+the doctor."
+
+"But be careful not to soil it; and don't forget that the ghost of the
+old knight must be very pale. Stoffel said so--because it's a ghost,
+you see."
+
+"Yes, mother, I'll make it white."
+
+"Good. And you'll make the lady there yellow?" pointing with a
+knitting-needle to Ophelia.
+
+"No, no," cried Walter quickly, "she was blue!"
+
+"She was? Who was?"
+
+"I only mean that I have so much yellow already, and I wanted to make
+her--this one--Ophelia--I wanted to make her blue. That one washing
+her hands can stay yellow."
+
+"So far as I'm concerned," the mother said, "but don't soil it!"
+
+Stoffel, in the meantime, had got on the track of those pictures. He
+was slick and had an inquiring mind. One of his colleagues at school,
+who was in some way connected with the stage, told him that such
+costume-pictures were of great value to players. He also told him
+other things about these pictures and about the play in general.
+
+It was fortunate for Walter that Stoffel brought this knowledge
+home with him. Even to-day there are people who find something
+immoral in the words "Theatre" and "Player"; but at that time it was
+still worse. The satisfaction, however, of imparting knowledge and
+appearing wise put Stoffel in an attitude of mind on this occasion
+that ordinarily would have been irreconcilable with that narrowness
+which with him took the place of conscience.
+
+"You see, mother, there are comedies and comedies. Some are sad,
+some funny. Some are all nonsense, and there's nothing to be learned
+from them; but there are comedies so sad that the people wail when
+they see them--even respectable people!"
+
+"Is it possible!"
+
+"Yes, and then there are others where there's music and singing. They
+are nice, and moral too. They are called operas; and people who
+are entirely respectable go there. You see, mother, there's nothing
+bad about it; and we ought not to be so narrow. The old Greeks had
+comedies, and our professors still study them."
+
+"Is it possible!"
+
+"Walter's pictures are from real comedies; but I can't tell all the
+details now. I will only say there are good comedies."
+
+"You must tell Juffrouw Laps. She always says----"
+
+"And what does she know about it? She never saw a comedy in her life."
+
+That was the truth; but it was just as true of the Pieterse
+family--with the exception of Leentje.
+
+One afternoon Leentje had complained of a terrible headache and
+had left off sewing and gone out. Later it was learned that she had
+not spent the evening with her mother; and then there was a perfect
+storm. But Leentje would not say where she had been that night. "That
+night" was Juffrouw Pieterse's expression, though she knew that the
+girl was at home by eleven o'clock. Leentje betrayed nothing. She
+had promised the dressmaker next door not to say anything; for the
+dressmaker had to be very careful, because her husband was a hypocrite.
+
+In Leentje's work-box was found a mutilated program; and then one day
+she began to sing a song she had never sung before--"I'm full of honor,
+I'm full of honor; oh, yes, I'm a man of honor!"
+
+And then it was all out! She had been to the Elandstraat and had seen
+the famous Ivan Gras in a comedy!
+
+Leentje began to cry and was going to promise never to do so again,
+when, to her amazement, she was told that there was nothing wrong in
+it, and that even the greatest professors went to see comedies.
+
+And now she must tell them about it.
+
+It was "The Child of Love," by Kotzebue, that had greeted her
+astonished eyes.
+
+"There was music, Juffrouw, and they played beautifully; and then the
+curtain went up, and there was a great forest, and a woman wept under
+a tree. There was a Baron who made her son a prisoner, because he was
+a hunter--but he spoke so nice, and his mother, too. The Baron said
+he was master on his place, and that he would punish such thieves. He
+was in a great rage. And then the mother said--no, somebody else
+came and said--but then the curtain went down. The dressmaker bought
+waffles that were being passed around, and we drank chocolate. The
+dressmaker said that every day wasn't a feast day. A man sat behind us
+and explained everything and took our cups when they were empty. Then
+the band played, 'Pretty girls and pretty flowers.'"
+
+"Shame!" cried the three young ladies. For it was a common street song.
+
+"And then the curtain went up again of its own accord; but the
+gentleman behind us said somebody raised it--perhaps the 'Child of
+Love' himself, for he was not in prison when the curtain was down. The
+dressmaker gave him a peppermint-drop, and he said: 'Watch the stage,
+Juffrouw, for you have paid to see it.' It cost twelve stivers,
+without the waffles and chocolate. Then the Baron said--but I can't
+tell it all exactly as it was. I will only say that the old woman
+wept all the time, and she could not be reconciled, because she was so
+unhappy. You see, Juffrouw, the child of love was her own child; and it
+was also the Baron's child of love. That was bad--because it was just
+a child of love, you see; and that is always bad. He had no papers,
+no credentials; nor the mother, either. And he was to die because he
+had hunted. Oh, it was beautiful, Juffrouw! And then the curtain went
+down again and we ate another waffle. The gentleman behind us said it
+was well that they gave plays with prison scenes in them. There were
+so many bad people in the hall, such as pickpockets and the like,
+and this would be a warning for them. The dressmaker was going to
+offer him another mint-drop, when she saw that her box was gone. It
+was silver. The gentleman said of course some pickpocket had taken it."
+
+"He was the pickpocket!" exclaimed several.
+
+Leentje was indignant at the idea.
+
+"No, no! Don't say that; it's a sin. He was a very respectable
+gentleman, and addressed me as Juffrouw, just as he did the
+dressmaker. He tried to find the thief. He asked where the Juffrouw
+lived, and said that if he found the box he would bring it to her. He
+wore a fancy vest--no, no, no. Don't say that of him!"
+
+"Well, tell some more about the child of love." All were interested.
+
+"Oh, the music was so nice! And a gentleman showed them with a stick
+how to play."
+
+"But tell us about the comedy!"
+
+"That is not so easy. It was very beautiful. It must be seen; it can't
+be told. The Baron saw that the hunter in prison was his own son;
+because a long time before, you see, that is--formerly, he had been
+acquainted with--you understand----"
+
+Poor Leentje turned as red as fire, and left her audience in a
+temporary suspense.
+
+"Yes, he had known the old woman formerly, and then they were good
+friends, and were often together--I will just tell it that way--and
+they were to marry, but something came between them; and so--and--for
+that reason the comedy was called the 'Child of Love.'"
+
+Walter listened with as much interest as the others; but he was less
+affected than the girls, who sat quietly staring into space. Stoffel
+felt called upon to say something.
+
+"That's it! He abused her chastity--that's the way it's spoken of--and
+she was left to bear the disgrace. The youth of to-day cannot be
+warned enough against this. How often have I told the boys at school!"
+
+"Listen, Walter, and pay attention to what Stoffel says!"
+
+Encouraged by the approval of his mother, Stoffel continued.
+
+"Yes, mother, virtue must be revered. That is God's will; and what God
+does is well done. Of all sins sensual pleasure is--a very great sin,
+because it is forbidden; and because all sins are punished, either
+in this world or in the next."
+
+"Do you hear, Walter?"
+
+"Here, or in the next world, mother! Innocent pleasure, yes; but
+sensual pleasure--it is forbidden! It loosens all the ties of human
+society. You see that such a comedy can be very fine. Only you must
+understand it properly--that's the idea."
+
+"And what did the Baron do then?"
+
+"Ah, Juffrouw, what shall I say! He talked a whole lot to the old
+woman, and was very sad because he had--away back there--because
+he had----"
+
+"Seduced her," added Stoffel, seeing that Leentje couldn't find the
+word. "That's what it's called."
+
+"Yes, that's what she said, too; and he promised never to do it
+again. And then he told the child of love always to follow the path
+of virtue, and that he would marry the old woman. She was satisfied
+with the arrangement."
+
+"I suppose so," cried the three girls in a breath. "She will be a
+rich baroness!"
+
+"Yes," said Leentje, "she became a great lady. And then the child of
+love fell on the Baron's neck; and they played 'Bridal Wreath.' The
+'Child of Love' became a hussar and sang, 'I'm full of honor, I'm
+full of honor; Oh, I'm a man of honor!' I don't know what became of
+the old Baron. And then we went home; but the dressmaker took no more
+pleasure in the play now, because her silver box was gone. I don't
+know whether the gentleman ever brought it to her, or not."
+
+The play was out.
+
+The girls thought: "Baroness!"
+
+Stoffel was thinking: "Virtue!"
+
+The mother's thoughts ran: "Twelve stivers for a ticket, and waffles
+and chocolate extra!"
+
+Walter was saying to himself: "A hunter! A whole year in the forest,
+in the great forest, and alone. I'd like to do it, too."
+
+He took up his brush and looked at Ophelia: "To be alone in the great
+forest with--Femke!"
+
+But the theatre question was far from being settled. Leentje had to
+clear up many doubtful points yet. For instance, Pietro wanted to
+know how old the woman was when the Baron finally married her. Leentje
+thought she must have been about sixty.
+
+Also Juffrouw Laps had to express her opinion. She declared that she
+was opposed to everything "worldly," and insisted that Walter be sent
+to church.
+
+Later she got into a big dispute over the theatre with Master
+Pennewip, whom Stoffel had brought in to reinforce his position. He
+had brought with him "Floris the Fifth," that powerful comedy by the
+noble Bilderdyk. With many declensions and conjugations and remarks
+on rhyme and metre, he explained, firstly, that "Floris the Fifth"
+was a play from which much could be learned; and, secondly, that the
+theatre was something very moral and thoroughly respectable.
+
+To be sure, he failed to convince Juffrouw Laps. Nor was Walter
+greatly impressed by that masterpiece, despite the fact that there
+were three deaths in it. He much preferred the beautiful story of
+Glorioso, or the Peruvian story--or even Little Red Riding Hood.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+Walter had been to church: that was now behind him. Stoffel thought
+the pastor had preached a beautiful sermon, and said that "in a way
+all he said could be accepted." He hoped that it would "bear fruit."
+
+"Yes," said the mother, "and he mustn't tear his new breeches
+again. They cost too much hard work for that."
+
+As a matter of fact the "hard work" done in the Pieterse family
+might be regarded as a negligible quantity. There was the necessary
+housework, and the usual complaining--or boasting, if you will--but
+this was to be expected.
+
+That Walter had postponed his visit to go to church was a result of
+the frightful threats of Juffrouw Laps. She cited Second Chronicles
+xvi. 12, and in the face of this text the Pieterses were not able
+successfully to defend their new and more liberal position. Juffrouw
+Pieterse could only say that the Bible was not to be interpreted that
+way, as if everything in it applied to a given individual.
+
+But Juffrouw Laps stuck to it, that if one has faith and grace one
+may come through all right; whereupon Juffrouw Pieterse expressed
+her willingness at all times to take advice.
+
+"Those are the essential things; through them we are saved! And--send
+him to me the first of the week. Or he can come Sunday, but after
+church. Then he can tell me about the sermon, even if the pastors
+are--but what does a child know about it!"
+
+Juffrouw Laps didn't think much of pastors. She held that people
+with grace in their hearts can understand God's word without Greek
+and Latin.
+
+"Yes, Sunday after church. I will count upon it." And in order to
+make her invitation more insistent she mentioned certain sweets that
+she usually served her guests at that time.
+
+Supposing that Juffrouw Laps was really anxious for Walter to come,
+we must admit that she showed deep knowledge of boy-nature.
+
+As for Walter, he was afraid to be alone with this pious lady. For
+him she was the living embodiment of all the plagues that are made
+use of in the Old Testament to convert rebellious tribes to the true
+faith. For instance, thunder and lightning, pestilence, abysses,
+boils, flaming swords, etc.
+
+If he had had the courage he would have asked her just to deposit
+the promised dainties somewhere outside of her flat. He would find
+them then. But he didn't have the courage.
+
+"And why didn't you go?" asked the mother when Stoffel's enthusiasm
+over the sermon had begun to die down.
+
+Walter said he had a pain in his stomach, which children always have
+when they want to bridge over disagreeable duties. With a better
+understanding between the parents and children this disease would be
+less frequent.
+
+"I don't believe you have any pain in your stomach," declared the
+mother. "It's only because you're a bad child and never do what you're
+told to do."
+
+Stoffel agreed with her; and then a council of war was held. Walter
+was condemned to go to Juffrouw Laps's at once; and he went.
+
+Expecting some terrible ordeal, he was greatly embarrassed and confused
+by the show of friendliness with which he was received.
+
+"And you did come, my dear boy! But you are so late! Church has been
+out a long time. See what I have for you, expressly for you!"
+
+She thrust him into a chair at the table and shoved all sorts of
+sweets over to him. Walter's embarrassment increased; and he felt
+even less at ease when she began to stroke him and call him pet names.
+
+"Now, tell me about the sermon," she said, when the child tried
+to escape the tenderness and affection to which he was not
+accustomed. "What did the pastor say?"
+
+"The text----"
+
+"But that's all right--afterwards, when your mouth is empty. You must
+eat a few cakes first. Nobody can do everything at once. There is
+chocolate; and you're to have a little dram, too. I've always said
+that you are a nice boy; but they're forever plaguing you so. But
+you're not eating enough; do just as if you were at home."
+
+For Walter that was not the right expression. At home!
+
+His first surprise over Walter began to be possessed by a feeling of
+fear. Why, he could not have told to save him.
+
+Suddenly he got up and declared that his mother had told him not to
+stay long.
+
+There wasn't a word of truth in it. Juffrouw Laps protested, but
+Walter held his ground. Despite all of that kindness Walter was able
+to escape from the enemy.
+
+Promising "to come back soon" he ran down the steps and into the
+street.
+
+An indescribable feeling of freedom regained thrilled through him. He
+had escaped. It was incomprehensible even to him. Never had he been
+received so kindly, so cordially; never had he been treated in a
+manner approaching this. But why his antipathy? When he left she
+was going to kiss him, but he managed to dodge her. Why? He didn't
+know. But it made him shudder to think of it.
+
+Should he go home now? What excuse could he give for coming back
+so soon?
+
+Involuntarily he bent his steps toward Ash Gate. It was not his
+intention to visit Femke--not at all, really not! For he didn't have
+his Ophelia with him--proof conclusive that when he left home he had
+not thought of Femke.
+
+And when he came in sight of his mills on the Buitensingel--oh,
+they were silent! Was there no wind? Or were they observing Sunday?
+
+The Buitensingel was full of people taking a Sunday stroll. Walter
+followed the small stream, which led him towards Femke's house. Soon he
+stood before the low enclosure; but he did not dare to go in. Why? He
+put the blame on the absent Ophelia.
+
+"If I only had that picture here I'd certainly go in!"
+
+That is questionable. Even with the picture he would have probably
+been just as shy. He didn't know what he ought to say--or, better,
+whether he could say anything, or not. He reflected. Suppose Femke's
+mother should ask, "Did you want anything?"
+
+We--yes, the "gentle reader" and I--we should have known what to
+answer. I wonder if our wisdom would have been wiser than the stupidity
+of the child, who stood irresolute and hesitating before the fence?
+
+He stood staring at the house, his mouth wide open. His knees trembled,
+his heart fluttered, his tongue was dry.
+
+A small column of smoke curling up from the chimney aroused him. What
+if a fire should break out! Then he would have to go in. He would
+rescue her, and carry her away in his arms--far, far away--to the end
+of the world, or at least outside of the town! Just anywhere where
+the people wear red velvet and green silk, where the gentlemen carry
+big swords and the ladies wear long trains. They would be so becoming
+to Femke. And she should ride horseback, and he would follow her--no,
+he would ride by her side, with a falcon on his hand!
+
+If a fire should break out!
+
+But Walter saw that the house was in no danger. This smoke came from
+the kitchen. He noticed other houses in the neighborhood where cooking
+seemed to be going on, and everywhere the chimneys were bearing witness
+to activities below which were presumably similar to those of Femke.
+
+Finally a crowd of fellows came along who had evidently been stopping
+at one of those establishments where "refreshments" are served. They
+had been greatly refreshed, and in their exuberance of freshness,
+so to say, they crowded Walter away from the fence and took him along
+with them for a little way.
+
+He was easily reconciled to this; for why, he thought, should he
+stand there and watch the smoke? There wasn't going to be any fire;
+and then he didn't have Ophelia with him.
+
+But to-morrow! To-morrow he would bring that picture with him! And
+then he wouldn't stand at the fence like a baby.
+
+He felt ashamed when he thought of his friends in their gay colors,
+or in armor, with plumes and swords. Those kings and knights and
+pages--they had been courageous, otherwise they never would have
+received such high orders and distinctions. Unless there were some
+change, he felt that he would never be pictured like that.
+
+However, he expected that such a change would come--without doubt,
+surely, certainly, truly! The further he went, the more determined
+he became to go in the next day and put on a bold front and say:
+"Good-day, Juffrouw, how do you do?"
+
+It was more difficult for him to decide what he would say to Femke.
+
+He made up various little speeches in the manner of Floris the
+Fifth. In case Femke shouldn't like them he was going to say, "Why,
+that is from our greatest poet."
+
+And then he would ask her to explain a lot of mysterious words
+in Floris that he hadn't understood--for instance, "fast fellow,"
+"coverture," "chastity," and others.
+
+Walter's development was determined by his desire to know things. His
+feeling for Femke, which was hardly real love, was subordinated to
+his thirst for knowledge. He knew that he couldn't get much from her,
+especially book-learning; but it was a pleasure merely to discuss
+things with her, even if she knew nothing about them.
+
+He was curious to know all that she might have to tell him, or to ask
+him; for no doubt she too had been saving up her impressions for her
+first friend. But, alas! he was not so certain of her friendship! True,
+when he was sick she had asked about him; but perhaps she was just
+passing by, and thought how easy it would be to ring the bell and ask,
+"How is Walter?"
+
+Still it had taken courage to do it. What would Mungo Park have said
+if he had seen him hesitating before the gate! Walter knew that wasn't
+the way to conquer the world.
+
+And if anybody had asked Mungo Park: "What do you want in Africa?"
+
+Well, he would have answered. Such a traveller in such a book is
+never embarrassed.
+
+Then Walter began to address all sorts of remarks to negro kings
+that he had conquered with lance and sword. All the women kissed his
+hand as he rode by on his bay, with fiery red caparison. He inquired
+patronizingly after those good girls who had nursed him in his illness,
+"because the strange white man was far from mother and sisters and
+had no home." He would reward them princely.
+
+In all this conquered land Walter was king and Femke was--queen! How
+magnificent the big red velvet cloak would look on her--and the
+gold crown!
+
+Conquering continents was easy. He was scarcely thirteen; and yet
+he was afraid that somebody might get ahead of him while he was
+being detained by the treacherous Pennewip with declensions and
+conjugations. And, then there were still more things to learn before
+one could be king, even of a small country. Pocket-change would have
+to be increased too, for, with all possible economy, six doits a week
+were insufficient. The Hallemans--well, they had more; but fortunately
+they were not thinking of Africa. For the present he was not afraid
+of any competition from that quarter; but other children, nearer the
+"grown-up" stage, might get the idea in their heads! And then, what
+would he do to keep his mother from guessing when he made his trips
+into the "interior" longer, and stayed out later than was allowed by
+the regulations of the Pieterse household?
+
+It was a difficult matter, but he would manage it.
+
+All that might happen to him and Femke in Africa would be read
+afterwards in pretty little books with colored pictures. He already
+saw himself sitting on a throne, and Femke by his side. She was not
+proud; she was willing for everybody to know--all those kneeling
+before her--that she had been a poor wash-girl. She had become queen
+because Walter had loved her; and now they needn't kneel any more.
+
+On special occasions--well, of course, that was different; for
+instance, when his mother and Stoffel came to visit him. They should
+see how all the people honored him--and Femke whom they had treated so
+badly. But once would be enough; then he would forgive them everything
+and build them a big house with water-barrels and wash-tubs. For
+Pennewip he would build a big schoolhouse, with desks and ink-bottles
+and copy-books and wall maps of Europe and tables of the new weights
+and measures. Then the old master could give instruction from early
+in the morning till late at night--or even all night.
+
+He was just puzzling over how he was going to reconcile Master
+Pennewip and the dusky young African to one another when Leentje
+opened the door.
+
+Without noticing it he had got home and rung the
+door-bell. Unsuspectingly he fell into an environment quite different
+from that in which he had moved for the last half hour. He scarcely
+understood what his mother meant when she asked him how the visit
+turned out, and whether Juffrouw Laps was satisfied with his report
+on the sermon.
+
+Sermon? Laps? He was unprepared for such an examination. He stammered
+out a sort of miscellaneous and irrelevant jumble of words, but
+fortunately containing nothing about Africa.
+
+It now developed that in the meantime there had been a sudden change
+in certain details of religious belief.
+
+"You see, mother?" said Stoffel. "Just as I've always said, it
+would take a lawyer to explain anything to suit her. She always
+knows better----"
+
+"That's so," answered the mother. "She's cracked or crazy. Now,
+just tell me, Stoffel, if anyone can expect such a child to remember
+everything a preacher says. I can't do it myself; and you can't do it,
+either. Master Pennewip can't do it. I tell you, nobody can do it. And
+to require that of such a child! She just wants to play the professor;
+that's the reason she does it."
+
+Stoffel was of the same opinion. Encouraged by his sympathy the mother
+became eloquent.
+
+"I would like to know what she's thinking about; or if she thinks
+she's a pastor. With all her biblical quotations! And then to torment
+a child hardly out of a sick bed--it's a disgrace. You don't need to
+go to her. What business have you got with her? I tell you----"
+
+Here it occurred to her that she herself had compelled Walter to go,
+and she interrupted this line of thought to scold Walter and tell him
+to get out of his Sunday breeches. Her dissatisfaction with herself
+expressed itself further in a funeral oration on Walter's last suit,
+which had cost so much "hard work."
+
+"And then to let that child sit there for an hour without anything
+to eat or drink! She would----"
+
+Walter's feeling for justice couldn't let that pass. He assured them
+that on the contrary--and then that excessive kindness got in his way
+again. In his confusion he went into all the details of the chocolate.
+
+"Well! Why didn't you say so at once? But it's all the same. I was
+going to add that she ought to have given you something to eat. That's
+the way such folks are--always grumbling about others and they won't
+see themselves. I believe in grace too, and when I have my housework
+done I like to hear the Scripture read--but to be everlastingly and
+eternally prating about it? No, that isn't religion. What do you say,
+Stoffel? One must work part of the time. Walter! aren't you going
+to pull off those new breeches? I've told him a dozen times. Trudie,
+give him his old ones!"
+
+Walter changed his breeches; but he promised himself that in Africa
+he would wear Sunday breeches every day.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+The next day Walter rang the doctor's door-bell. His heart was in a
+flutter, for the doctor lived in an imposing house. He was admitted
+and, after he had been announced, was told just to come upstairs.
+
+The maid conducted Walter to the "study," where the doctor was busy
+performing one of his paternal duties: he was teaching his children.
+
+There were three. A boy, somewhat older than Walter, sat alone in one
+corner writing at a small table. The other two, a boy of Walter's
+age and a girl that seemed to be a few years younger, stood before
+the table behind which the doctor was sitting. On the table stood a
+large globe, evidently the subject of discussion. This became clear
+to Walter later, for, as far as he knew, he had never seen such a
+large ball. He didn't know that there was any other way to explain
+the location of countries except by means of maps. Thus he noticed
+in the room all sorts of things that he didn't understand till later.
+
+When the maid opened the door of the room he heard the voices of
+the children, and also that of the father. He even heard laughter;
+but when he walked in all became as still as death. The two children
+at the table stood like soldiers. There was something so comical in
+their attitude that Walter could have laughed at them if he hadn't
+been so embarrassed. Even the girl had a touch of official earnestness
+in her face more striking than he had seen it in older people, even
+at church. While the doctor was welcoming Walter and offering him
+a chair, the boy stood with hands clapped down on the seams of his
+trousers as if he expected someone to say, "Right about--face!" or,
+"Forward, column right, march!"
+
+The larger boy in the corner had only looked up once, but with
+that peculiarly hostile expression which distinguishes man from
+other animals--to the disadvantage of the former. It is noticeable
+especially in children--sometimes in women.
+
+"I'm glad to see you, my boy. It was nice of you to come. What have
+you there?"--then he turned to the little soldiers.
+
+"Remind me afterward to tell you at dinner something about Olivier
+van Noort. William, you can think of it, can't you?"
+
+Walter squinted at his Lady Macbeth, and was so embarrassed that he
+was helpless to present it to the doctor. The room was so magnificent;
+and the furnishings--the big cases full of books! His picture seemed
+so common and ugly that, if he could have done so, he would have
+swallowed it.
+
+At home they had taught him how he must stand and sit and speak;
+and now he stood there, as awkward as a cow, stammering and
+stuttering. Making a supreme effort he managed to get it out that he
+had "come to thank the doctor" for his recovery--"but God first"!
+
+The two soldiers bit their lips; and even the doctor found it difficult
+to keep a straight face.
+
+"God first! Well said, my boy. Have you already thanked God?"
+
+"Yes, M'nheer, every evening in bed, and yesterday at church."
+
+Little Sietske unable to control herself any longer had to laugh
+outright. Her laughter threatened to become contagious. William was
+busier than usual with his nose; Hermann had come to life and was
+eyeing Walter slyly.
+
+"Order!" thundered the doctor, giving the table a rap with a ruler
+that made the globe tremble. Walter was frightened. "Order! This is
+a nice caper during study-hours."
+
+The clock began to strike. Sietske seemed to be counting, for at
+every stroke she raised a finger.
+
+"I am going to----"
+
+"Five!" she cried. "All my fingers--just look, five! Five o'clock,
+papa--Tyrant! Hurrah, hurrah!"
+
+Both boys joined in the uproar. It was a quodlibet from "Gaudeamus
+igitur," "Vive la joie," and "God save the king." Forward, all! Vive
+la vacance! A bas les tyrans! Revenge! * * * *
+
+The children were determined to have their well earned romp; and they
+had it. Walter rubbed his eyes, and would not believe his ears. It
+was beyond his comprehension. * * * *
+
+"That will do now," said the doctor. "Come, mamma is waiting
+dinner--and you, too, my boy!"
+
+William took Sietske on his back and Hermann mounted the father. Thus
+they descended the stairs, Walter bringing up the rear. Lady Macbeth
+had disappeared, being now crumpled up in Walter's breast-pocket.
+
+Walter was nonplussed. Was this the same man who used the gold
+pen?--whose coachman wore the furs?
+
+How was it possible? Was it a dream, that he and all the family had
+looked on this man and simply been overcome by his dignity?
+
+He couldn't understand it.
+
+Again the atmosphere of the dining-room was quite different from that
+of the schoolroom, either before or directly after five.
+
+"Present the young gentleman to your mamma," said the doctor, turning
+to William.
+
+"May I do it?" asked Sietske.
+
+Doctor Holsma nodded, and the little girl took Walter by the hand and
+conducted him to a lady who sat at the head of the table preparing
+the salad.
+
+"Mamma, this is a young gentleman--oh, I must know your name. What
+is your name?"
+
+"Walter Pieterse."
+
+"This is Mr. Walter Pieterse, who has come to thank papa, because
+he--he was sick; and he--the young gentleman is going to stay for
+dinner, papa?"--the doctor nodded again--"and he's going to stay for
+dinner, mamma."
+
+"With mamma's consent," said the father.
+
+"Yes, with mamma's consent."
+
+Mevrouw Holsma spoke to Walter kindly and offered him a chair. It
+was necessary, too.
+
+Everything seemed so princely to Walter that he was glad to be
+seated. Three-fourths of his little figure was hidden under the
+table. That was something gained. He was amazed at almost everything
+he saw and heard. He folded his hands.
+
+"Do you want to say a grace, little man?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Yes, M'nheer," Walter stammered.
+
+"A good custom. Do you always do that at the table?"
+
+"Yes, always--at warm meals, M'nheer!"
+
+Those children had been taught good manners. Nobody smiled.
+
+Walter bowed his head for a moment; and the doctor took advantage
+of the opportunity to give the children a look of warning. They
+remembered; and, if afterwards Walter discovered that he had cut a
+singular figure in this household, they were not to blame.
+
+"You do well to do it," said Holsma. "We don't do it; and perhaps we
+do well not to."
+
+"Certainly," said the mother. "Everyone must act according to his
+own conviction."
+
+This simple statement moved Walter more than any of them could have
+imagined. He--a conviction! That short sentence of Mevrouw Holsma
+attributed to him a dignity and importance that was strange to him,
+and gave him a right he had never thought of before. Through the soup
+he was thinking continually: "I may have a conviction!"
+
+It never occurred to him that a thing could be interpreted otherwise
+than it was interpreted for him by his mother or Stoffel, or some
+other grown-up person. The whole question of praying, or not praying,
+did not appear so important to him as this new fact, that he could
+have a conviction. His heart swelled.
+
+The doctor, who understood Walter, recalled him from his thoughts.
+
+"Everyone must act according to his conviction; and in order to come
+to a conviction one has to reflect a long time over the matter. I
+am convinced that our little guest would like to eat some of those
+peas. Pass them to him, Sietske."
+
+Walter had grasped the import of Holsma's words, and also the meaning
+of this transition to the peas. Walter felt--without putting his
+feelings into words--that the pedantry of the schoolroom had been put
+aside at five o'clock, and that his host merely wanted to give him a
+friendly warning against dogmatic bigotry, without tainting the fresh,
+wholesome atmosphere of the dining-room.
+
+Despite his shy, retiring nature--or, better, in connection with this
+characteristic--Walter was an extremely intelligent boy. This fact
+had escaped almost everybody he had come in contact with because of
+his lack of self-confidence, which prevented him from revealing his
+true self. He usually seemed to comprehend more slowly than others;
+but this was because he was less easily satisfied with the result of
+his thinking. His mind was exacting of knowledge. During Walter's
+sickness Holsma had remarked this peculiarity of the boy, and his
+interest had been enlisted at once.
+
+Walter's shyness was due in a great measure to the manner in which
+he had been taught what little he knew. Everything his teachers
+taught him was looked upon by them as something immutable and
+irrefutable. Twice two is four, Prince so-and-so is a hero, good
+children go to heaven, God is great, the Reform Church represents the
+true faith, etc., etc. It was never hinted to him that there was any
+room for doubt. Indeed, he was led to believe that his desire to know
+more about things was improper and even sinful.
+
+After all those extraordinary occurrences in the study, Walter was
+prepared to expect almost anything in the way of the unusual, but
+that William and Hermann, and even little Sietske, were allowed to
+help their plates to whatever they wanted--that was more wonderful
+to him than the aerial voyage of Elias. With Genevieve in the famous
+wilderness--yes, even in Africa it couldn't be any more free and
+easy. He was continually surprised and taken off his guard by the
+unwonted and unexpected. In fact, his thoughts were so far away that
+when during dessert the little girl passed him a saucer of cream----
+
+Ye gods, it happened and--I must tell it. Oh, if like the
+chroniclers of old, I might put the blame on some privy councilor,
+"who unfortunately advised," etc.
+
+But what privy councilor in the whole world could have advised Walter
+to let that porcelain spoon tilt over the edge of the saucer and fall
+into Sietske's lap! He did it, he!
+
+Oh, how sad it was. He had just begun to pull himself up in his
+chair. Another moment and he would have actually been sitting. Perhaps
+he might have said something soon. The name of a certain country in
+Africa, which Sietske could not remember a moment before, had occurred
+to him. It was not that he might seem smarter than Sietske that he
+was going to speak out. No, it was only that he might seem a little
+less stupid than himself. But now--that miserable spoon!
+
+Before he had time to wonder how his awkwardness would be received,
+Sietske was talking along smoothly about something else--just as if
+this little "catastrophe" was a matter of course.
+
+"Papa, you were going to tell us something about Olivier van Noort."
+
+She arose, wiped off her little skirt and fetched Walter another
+spoon from the buffet.
+
+"Yes, papa, Olivier van Noort! You promised it, papa."
+
+All urged him to tell the story. Even Mevrouw Holsma manifested great
+interest in it. Walter was aware that this conversation was intended
+to cover up his accident. He was moved; for he was not accustomed to
+anything like this. As Sietske took her seat again she noticed a tear
+creeping down across his cheek.
+
+"Mamma, I got a silver spoon. That's just as good, isn't it? These
+porcelain things are so heavy and awkward. They've fallen out of my
+hand three times; and Hermann can't manage them, either."
+
+The mother nodded to her.
+
+"And how it is with Olivier van Noort?"
+
+The door-bell rang, and almost immediately afterwards a gentleman
+entered the room who was greeted by the children as Uncle Sybrand.
+
+The host now invited all to the garden and sent Hermann to the study
+for a book.
+
+"You young rascal, don't you go now and maliciously break that
+globe. It can't help it."
+
+Then came the story of Admiral Olivier van Noort and the poor
+Vice-Admiral Jan Claesz van Ilpendam, who was put ashore in the Strait
+of Magellan for insubordination. It interested all, and called forth
+a lively discussion, in which the entire family as well as the guests
+took part.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+To readers of a certain class of fiction it will no doubt seem strange
+if I say that Walter's visit to the Holsma family influenced greatly
+his spiritual development. Not immediately; but a seed had been planted
+which was to grow later. He saw now that after all independent thought
+was possible, even if he could not yet allow himself that luxury. The
+mere knowledge that there were other opinions in the world than those
+of his daily mentors was a long stride forward.
+
+He was depressed on account of his lack of knowledge. Those children
+knew so much more than he did; and this made him sad.
+
+They had spoken of someone who was startled to find footprints. Who
+was it? The child had never heard of Defoe's hermit. He asked Stoffel.
+
+"Footprints? Footprints? Well, you must tell me what footprints you
+mean--whose footprints. You must give names when you ask questions."
+
+"That's right," said the mother, "when you want to know anything
+you must mention names. And Mevrouw made the salad herself? Well,
+that's strange. The girl must have been out somewhere."
+
+As to other "strange" things, which were not likely to meet the
+approbation of his family, Walter was silent. Not a word about
+that Saturnalia, or the omission of grace at a "warm meal"! Nor
+did he mention the liberties that were allowed the children, or the
+freedom with which they joined in the conversation. Perhaps it was
+a superfluous precaution. That bearskin would have been excused for
+many shortcomings.
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse asked repeatedly if he had been "respectable." Walter
+said he had, but without knowing exactly what she meant. That affair
+with the spoon--had it been respectable? He didn't care to have this
+question decided--at least by his mother. But it was nice of Sietske;
+and wouldn't he have done the same?
+
+He learned that the day was approaching when he must return to
+school. More than ever he felt that this source of knowledge was
+insufficient for him; but opposition was not to be thought of. He
+was dissatisfied with himself, with everything.
+
+"I shall never amount to anything," he sighed.
+
+His Lady Macbeth seemed uglier to him than ever. He tore her up. And
+Ophelia?
+
+Goodness! He hadn't thought of Femke the whole day. Was it because
+she was only a wash-girl, while the doctor's children were so
+aristocratic? Walter censured himself.
+
+He took advantage of the first opportunity to pay his debt in that
+quarter. For he felt that it was a debt; and this consciousness gave
+him courage. Picture in hand, he passed the familiar fence this time
+and knocked boldly on the door. His heart was thumping terribly;
+but he must do it! In a moment he stood before Femke. The lady of
+his heart was quietly darning stockings. It is hard on the writer;
+but this little detail was a matter of indifference to Walter.
+
+"Oh!" she cried, extending her hand. "Mother, this is the young
+gentleman we saw that time--the little boy who was so sick. And how
+are you now? You look pale."
+
+"Take a seat, little boy," said the mother. "Yes, you do look
+pale. Worms, of course."
+
+"No, no, mother. The child has had nervous fever."
+
+"All right--fever, then; but it could be from worms. Give him a cup,
+Femke. It won't hurt you to drink coffee; but if it were worms----"
+
+Mrs. Claus's worms were more in Walter's way than the stockings.
+
+"Where does your mother have her washing done?" she asked. "Not that
+I want to pump you--not at all. But if she isn't satisfied with her
+wash-woman--it sometimes happens, you understand. Everybody must
+look out for himself; and I just thought I'd mention it. Whenever
+there are any ink-spots Femke takes them out with oxalic acid; and
+it never makes any holes--yes, it did happen once, and we had to pay
+for a pair of cuffs. You can ask Femke."
+
+The fact was, he wanted to ask Femke something else; and she knew
+it. The story of Aztalpa had left its marks on her mind. But she
+was hampered very much like Walter was at home. She couldn't say,
+"Mother, speak a bit more Peruvian!" So she simply asked what the
+roll was that he had in his hand.
+
+Walter was confused, but he managed to stammer that it was a present
+for her. Femke said she would always take good care of the picture.
+
+"Yes," said the mother, "and you must iron out those creases. We iron,
+too, little boy, and we deliver the clothes ready to put on. Nobody can
+complain. You can tell your mother. And your collar--it isn't ironed
+nicely--and such bluing! Ask Femke. Femke, isn't the blue in stripes?"
+
+His collar not ironed nicely? and blued in stripes? And the infallible
+Pietro had laundered it! Even here, were there differences in method
+and conception? And in this respect, too, was the Pieterse tradition
+not the only one that brought happiness?
+
+Femke was on nettles. She studied Ophelia, wondering who she was,
+and tried to turn the conversation. At last something occurred to
+her. It was necessary for her to run some errand or other, and "the
+young gentleman" could "accompany" her a part of the way.
+
+"As far as I'm concerned," said the mother.
+
+The young couple retired, taking one of those ways which in the
+neighborhood of Amsterdam are simply called "the ways." That is all
+they are. Whoever walks there for pleasure must take a good stock of
+impressions with him, in order to escape tedium.
+
+But Walter and Femke were not lacking in this respect. Walter had
+so much to tell Femke that he could scarcely hope to get through;
+and she, too, had thought of him more than she was willing to admit,
+and more than he had any idea of. She began by saying that she hadn't
+told her mother of her unfriendly reception by Walter's mother and
+sisters, because she didn't want her mother----
+
+"Oh, Femke--and you thought I would come?"
+
+"Yes." said Femke, hesitating, but still with a readiness that
+delighted Walter. "Yes, of course I expected to see you again. And
+I had a mass said for your recovery."
+
+"Really?" said Walter, who hardly knew what it meant.  "You did that
+for me?"
+
+"Yes, and I prayed, too. I should have been sad if you had died. For
+I believe you are a good boy."
+
+"I ought to have come sooner; and I wanted to, but--Femke, I was
+afraid."
+
+He related to her how he had been near her on Sunday. The girl
+attributed his timidity to his diffidence toward her mother.
+
+"My mother is a good woman. She wouldn't hurt anybody, but--you
+understand. She doesn't mix with people much. I understand the
+world better, because, you see, I was a nurse for three weeks. I was
+only substituting; I was too young to be a real nurse. It was at a
+relation's of ours, where the girl was sick. You know we really come
+of a good family. But that makes no difference. Tell me, are you well
+and strong again?"
+
+Walter told her now all about his sickness, and soon he came
+involuntarily to the thing that gave him most trouble, his defective
+knowledge.
+
+"All the children know French; but at our school it isn't taught. It's
+impossible to be a great man without knowing French."
+
+Walter had difficulty in explaining to her that he meant something
+other than the possession of three houses, though that might not
+be bad.
+
+"I should like--you understand? I should like--yes--I should like--how
+shall I explain?"
+
+The sovereignty of Africa was on the end of his tongue; but he didn't
+have the courage to put his dreams into words.
+
+"You know, Femke, that we live here in Europe. Now, down there in the
+south, far away--I will draw it for you. We can sit down here and I
+will show you exactly what I mean."
+
+He selected some small sticks suitable for making outlines on the
+ground, then he and Femke sat down on a low pile of boards. He
+proceeded to scratch up the sand for some distance around.
+
+"That is Europe. The earth is round; that is, it consists of
+two halves, like a doughnut. You see, it looks like a pair of
+spectacles. With that half we are not concerned. That's America. You
+can put your feet on it if you want to. Here is where we live; there
+is England; and here is Africa. The people there are uncivilized. They
+can't read, and they don't wear many clothes. But when a traveler
+comes along they are very nice to him--the book says so. I'm going
+down there and teach all the people to read and give them clothes and
+see to it that there is no injustice done in the whole land. And then
+we will----"
+
+"I, too?" asked Femke in amazement.
+
+"Why, certainly! I wanted to ask you if you were willing to go with
+me. We will be man and wife, you understand; so when I get to be king
+you will be----"
+
+"I? Queen?"
+
+She laughed. Involuntarily she rose and trampled to pieces all the
+kingdoms that Walter had just laid at her feet.
+
+"But--won't you be my wife?"
+
+"Oh, you boy! How did you get such nonsense into your head? You are
+still a child!"
+
+"Will you wait then till I'm grown up? Will you let me be your friend?"
+
+"Certainly! Only you mustn't think of that nonsense--not that you may
+not go to Africa later. Why not? Many people go on journeys. Formerly
+there lived a carpenter near us, and he went to the Haarlem with his
+whole family. But--marrying!"
+
+She laughed again. It pained Walter. The poor boy's first proposal
+was turning out badly.
+
+Suddenly Femke became serious.
+
+"I know that you are a good boy; and I think a great deal of you."
+
+"And I!" cried Walter. "Femke, I have thought of you all the time--when
+I was sick--in my fever--I don't know what I thought of in my fever,
+but I think it must have been you. And I talked to the picture I
+painted for you as if it were you; and that picture answered like you
+and looked like you. I was Kusco and Telasco, and you were Aztalpa,
+the daughter of the sun. Tell me, Femke, may I be your friend?"
+
+The girl reflected a moment; and in her pure, innocent heart
+she felt the desire to do good. Was that seventeen-year-old girl
+conscious of the influence that Walter's childish soul exerted upon
+her? Scarcely. But she wanted to give him a less cruel answer.
+
+"Certainly, certainly you shall be my friend. But--but----"
+
+She was hunting for some excuse that would not hurt him, and still let
+him see the difference in their ages. He had grown during his illness,
+to be sure, but still--she could have carried him on her arm. And he
+had dreamed of rescuing her from a fire!
+
+"My friend, yes. But then you must do everything that I require."
+
+"Everything, everything! Tell me quick what I can do for you."
+
+It was painful for the girl. She didn't know what she should require;
+but she was under the necessity of naming something. She had always
+heard that it was good for children to study hard. What if she should
+spur him on to do that?
+
+"Listen, Walter. Just for fun I told my mother that you were the best
+in school."
+
+"I?" cried Walter abashed.
+
+"Study hard and be the first in school inside the next three months,"
+said Femke to the conqueror of continents, unaware of the sarcasm
+that lay in her words. "Otherwise, you see, my mother might think
+I had made fun of you; and I don't want that to happen. If you will
+only do that----"
+
+"I will do it, Femke!"
+
+"Then you must go home and begin at once."
+
+Thus she sent him away. As she told him "Good-bye" she noticed all
+at once that he was too large for her to kiss. A few hours later,
+when Father Jansen was calling on her mother and incidentally saw
+Walter's painting, Walter suddenly became a child again. The priest
+had said that in Dutch Ophelia meant Flora, who was the patron-saint
+of roses and forget-me-nots.
+
+"Oh, that picture is from a little boy, a very small boy. He's about
+ten years old--or nine. He's certainly not older than nine!"
+
+"Girl, you are foolish!" cried the mother. "The boy is fifteen."
+
+"Yes, that may be--but I just meant that he's still only a child."
+
+She stuck Ophelia away in some hidden nook, and Mrs. Claus and Father
+Jansen never saw that new edition of the old flower-goddess again.
+
+"Femke, I will do it!" Walter had said.
+
+There was really reason to believe that he would learn faster now;
+but Pennewip's instruction would wear Femke's colors. Walter knew
+very well that in requiring this service she had had his own welfare
+in view; but this showed her interest in him, and was not so bad. How
+would it have looked, he thought, if, after all that had gone before,
+he had answered: "Everything except that!"
+
+Of course he would have greatly preferred to serve his lady on some
+journey full of adventure. But one cannot select for one's self
+heroic deeds. In these days Hercules and St. George would have to
+put up with miniature dragons.
+
+At all events, Walter took hold of his work in earnest. He studied his
+"Ippel," his "Strabbe," his "National History" and even the "Gender
+of Nouns," and everything else necessary to the education of a good
+Netherlander. Poetry was included; and Walter's accomplishments along
+this line were such that other "Herculeses" might have envied him.
+
+He had never read the stories of tournaments. No enchantress gave
+him a charmed coat of mail; no Minerva put the head of Medusa on
+his shield--no, nothing of all that. But--Keesje, the butcher's boy,
+might look sharp for his laurels!
+
+In justice to Walter it must be said that he gave his opponent fair
+warning, in true knightly style.
+
+At the end of three months Walter was actually the first in his
+classes. Pennewip was compelled to take notice of it.
+
+"It is strange," he remarked. "I might say that it is remarkable. Yes,
+in a way, it is unprecedented--without a parallel!"
+
+At home the result was that a great council was held regarding Walter's
+future. He didn't want to become a compositor; and to be a sailor--that
+would have suited him, but his mother was opposed to it. Stoffel,
+too, objected on the ground that usually only young people who are
+worthless on land are sent to sea.
+
+Thus Walter's plans for conquest were slipping away from him. He
+was not attracted by the brilliant careers that were proposed: They
+left Africa out of account. He didn't want to be a school-teacher,
+or a shoemaker, or a clerk, or a counter-jumper.
+
+However, after all authorities had been heard, Stoffel came
+to the conclusion that Walter was peculiarly well fitted for
+"business." Juffrouw Pieterse agreed with him thoroughly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+"A responsible business firm wants a young man (Dt. Ref.) of good
+family. He must be moral, well-behaved and not under fifteen years
+old. Prospect of salary if diligent and reliable. Good treatment
+guaranteed. Address written applications in own handwriting to
+'Business,' care E. Maaskamp's book and art store, Nieuwendyk,
+Amsterdam."
+
+The writer cannot recall what sort of art publications E. Maaskamp was
+dealing in just at that time, and will not make any guesses, for fear
+of getting the reader into chronological difficulties. If it should
+become necessary in writing Walter's history, the writer would have
+no compunctions of conscience in putting the republic after Louis,
+or William I. before the republic.
+
+And as for that "Dt. Ref."--Dutch Reform--in the advertisement--that
+gives the writer no trouble. He knows very well that "Dt. Ref." as a
+necessary qualification for servants, apprentices, etc., was introduced
+after E. Maaskamp's pictures had been forgotten. Nevertheless, it
+must be insisted upon that the aforesaid abbreviation was in the
+advertisement which was now occupying the undivided attention of
+the Pieterses.
+
+"There couldn't be anything more fortunate," said the mother. "What
+do you think, Stoffel?"
+
+"Yes, mother, it couldn't be better."
+
+"What pleases me especially is the 'well-behaved.'"
+
+"Moral and well-behaved, mother."
+
+"Yes, moral and well-behaved--do you hear, Walter? Just as I have
+always said. And 'prospect of salary.' What do you think of that,
+Stoffel?"
+
+"Yes, mother; but--he must be 'diligent and reliable.'"
+
+"Yes, Walter, you must be diligent and reliable. Haven't I always told
+you that? And they require 'Dt. Ref.'; but you are that, thank God."
+
+"Yes, mother, he's that all right."
+
+"Stoffel, don't you think you'd better write the letter?"
+
+"But it says 'in own handwriting.'"
+
+"That's so! But if you write the letter in your own handwriting--that
+will be better than for such a child to write it."
+
+Stoffel had some difficulty in making it plain to his mother that
+"own handwriting" meant Walter's own handwriting; but she finally
+saw the point, and Walter was given a seat at the table.
+
+"Well? What must I write at the top?"
+
+"Now, have you forgotten that again? Such a simple thing? Have you
+got down the date? Then write 'Gentlemen,' in business style. It says,
+'responsible business firm.'"
+
+"Yes," said the mother, "and add that your father had a business,
+too. We sold shoes from Paris. Otherwise they will think we're only
+shoemakers."
+
+"And write that you are the first in school."
+
+"And that you belong to the Dutch Reform Church."
+
+"And that you are moral and well-behaved."
+
+"And that you are diligent and reliable. Don't you see, you may get
+a salary then right away."
+
+At last the letter was ready. It only remained to stamp it and post
+it. But why couldn't the young applicant deliver the letter in person
+and save the postage? Stoffel thought there would be no impropriety
+in such a course. Even a responsible business firm ought to overlook
+such a detail.
+
+With a heavy heart Walter started out on his important errand. He was
+entering the real world, and was about to become a worshiper of the
+great god of "business." He was depressed by his lack of confidence,
+and felt that it was unbecoming in himself to make application to a
+"responsible business firm."
+
+If he met a man that looked well-to-do, he would ask himself if
+the gentleman was a "business man," and belonged to a "responsible
+business firm." This last high-sounding expression embodied mysteries
+which he did not attempt to understand. He would learn it all later.
+
+Walter stammered an excuse to the young fellow in the shop for not
+having sent his letter by post. The fellow didn't understand him, but
+threw the letter carelessly into a box containing a few dozen others
+that were awaiting the favorable consideration of Messrs. Motto,
+Business & Co.
+
+The fellow was busy with some Turkish battles in glaring colors,
+and declined to enter into any conversation with our hero. Walter's
+mouth watered for a bright picture of Grecian chivalry. But what good
+did it do? He had no money; and, besides, he was out for business,
+not for heroic deeds.
+
+"Later!" he thought.
+
+Arrived at home he received the usual scolding. His mother maintained
+that he had certainly not entered the shop in a "respectable" manner;
+otherwise the young gentleman would have given him a friendlier
+reception. She was afraid that those excellent gentlemen, Motto,
+Business & Co., would take this into consideration to his detriment.
+
+"And you say there were already a whole lot of letters there? You
+see, Stoffel--if he only isn't too late! That's the way--those people
+would break their necks or be first. And who knows but what some of
+them are Roman Catholics? I wonder if they all think they're moral
+and well-behaved. You can just see what kind of people there are in
+the world!"
+
+Walter had to go back to Maaskamp's and get the address of the firm
+in question. The idea was for him to call on the firm in person and
+thus get ahead of everybody else. Juffrouw Pieterse wanted to bet her
+ears that not a one of the other applicants could boast of a father
+who had sold Parisian shoes.
+
+"Tell them that! Your father never took a stitch in his life. He
+didn't even know how to. It's only to prove that we had a business,
+too. He never had an awl in his hand--isn't it so, Stoffel?"
+
+Those eminently respectable gentlemen, Motto, Business & Co., lived--I
+don't know where they lived; but they had founded on the Zeedyk a
+cigar store and a circulating library. It was probably not far from
+the place where six or eight centuries earlier a few fishermen had
+founded the greatest commercial city of Europe.
+
+Walter found one of those worthy gentlemen behind the counter. He was
+in his shirt-sleeves, and was engaged in weighing out some snuff for
+an old woman. "Business" was evidently being carried on.
+
+As Walter had formed no conception of "responsible business firm,"
+he was far from thinking that the gentlemen had claimed too much for
+themselves. With his peculiar timidity he even reproached himself
+for not having understood the conception "business" before.
+
+Now he understood it. Business meant to stand behind a counter,
+in shirt-sleeves, and weigh snuff. And, too, on the Zeedyk.
+
+The cigar store occupied only half the width of the house, and was
+connected with the circulating library by a side door. Motto, Business
+& Co. were simultaneously cultivating two industries: those who didn't
+care for snuff or tobacco could get something to read, and vice versa.
+
+Over the shelves, on the tobacco side, were posted signs bearing the
+assurance that something was "manufactured" here. Differing entirely
+from the Pieterses, these gentlemen seemed to think that to make
+a thing meant more than merely to sell it. We leave the question
+undecided.
+
+Was it true that this business firm manufactured anything? The only
+thing they manufactured was the paper bags that were to be pasted
+together by the moral, well-behaved, diligent and reliable young man
+who was a member of the Dutch Reform Church.
+
+The amount of business done was small, the profits barely paying the
+rent. The wicked world on the Zeedyk even said that the two blue
+porcelain vases bearing in old-fashioned letters the inscriptions
+"Rappee" and "Zinking," had been borrowed from a second-hand dealer
+in the neighborhood, and that the good man came by every day to look
+after his property.
+
+The shop was small, and was closed off in the rear by a green curtain,
+which was calculated to make customers think there was something more
+beyond. To be exact, there was something beyond that curtain. There
+hung a dilapidated mirror, consoling with a lonely chair, which was
+now ornamented by the coat of the worthy senior partner; and leaning
+against the wall was a half-round table, on which a pomatum-pot
+was making fun of a comb because for years it had been expecting
+to grow new teeth. Business was not so exacting but that Mr. Motto
+could devote a little spare time to the improvement of his personal
+beauty. He had succeeded in developing two beautiful bunches of hair
+on the sides of his face. They cost him much pains and grease; but
+they were the delight of all the ladies who entered the shop.
+
+"And so you want to go into business, do you?" asked Mr. Motto,
+after he had given the old woman a "pinch" from the jar. "What all
+have you studied? Reading, writing, arithmetic, French? Eh? And what
+are your parents."
+
+"They dealt in shoes--from Paris, M'neer. But I don't know
+French. Arithmetic--yes. Went through Strabbe."
+
+"And you know arithmetic, do you? How much then is a Pietje and
+a half?"
+
+Walter stammered that he didn't know. Does the reader know?
+
+"But you must know that if you expect to calculate. And you don't know
+what a Pietje is? Do you know the difference between a sesthalf and
+a shilling? And between a dollar and a twenty-eight piece? Look----"
+
+Mr. Motto pulled out the cash-drawer and seemed to be hunting for a
+dollar; but for some reason or other he decided to make out with a
+sesthalf. This he laid on the counter and asked Walter to imagine a
+shilling lying beside it. He then proceeded to test Walter's knowledge
+of business by asking him to point out the differences between the
+two coins. Mr. Motto claimed that in business one must know these
+details thoroughly.
+
+And Mr. Motto was right about it. At that time there were more
+different kinds of money in the Netherlands than there are in Germany
+now. To be able to distinguish the various coins readily and make
+change accurately a regular course of study was necessary. Just
+as a law was about to be passed to confer the title, "Doctor of
+Numismatics," on examination, the secretary of the treasury discovered
+that all this trouble could be spared by simplifying the money. He
+became very unpopular after this.
+
+In Walter's time, though, such a reform had not been thought of. The
+florin had twenty stivers; the regular Holland dollar had fifty
+stivers, the Zeeland dollar had forty-two. The dollar was worth a
+florin and a half, and the gold florin was called a "twenty-eight,"
+because it contained twenty-eight stivers. The coins were well-worn and
+seldom exhibited any traces of inscriptions, milling, etc. Matters were
+further complicated by three-florin pieces and ducats of sixty-three
+stivers, not to mention any other coins.
+
+For Walter the money question was a serious one.
+
+"And you don't know French, either?" in a tone that was scarcely
+encouraging.
+
+"No----" mournfully.
+
+"And would your parents put up cash security for you?"
+
+Walter didn't understand the question.
+
+"Caution. Don't you understand? Security! There's lots of money
+handled, and I must know who I'm turning the shop over to. And--do
+you know Danish?"
+
+Mr. Motto did not always speak grammatically.
+
+"No--M'neer."
+
+"What! Nor Danish, either? But Danish sailors come in here to buy
+tobacco, and then you need to speak Danish. In a business like this
+here you must know all languages. That's the main thing--otherwise
+your cake's dough! I've even had Greeks to come in here."
+
+Walter's heart gave a jump. What heroic deeds might they not do on
+such occasions!
+
+"Yes, Greeks; but they were drunk and wanted a smoke for nothing. We
+don't do it that way. The main thing is to look out for the
+little things. Otherwise your cake's dough, you understand. Yes,
+in business you must know all languages, otherwise you can't talk
+to the customers. That's the main thing. But that will be all right
+if your parents can deposit a caution. Sometimes there are at least
+ten florins in the cash-drawer, you know; and in business a man must
+have security. That's the main thing. Otherwise your cake's dough;
+you can see that for yourself."
+
+"My father is dead," said Walter, as if that fact rendered the cash
+security unnecessary. He didn't know anything else to say.
+
+"That so? Dead! Yes, it often happens. Dead? All right! But haven't
+you a mother who can pay for you?"
+
+"I--will--ask--her," Walter stammered.
+
+"Certainly. Ask her right away; for you know in business things
+are done in a hurry. Said, done! That's the main thing. Otherwise
+your cake's dough. Here is another shop, and you will have work to
+do in there, too--if your mother can put up the money. That's the
+main thing."
+
+Mr. Motto conducted Walter into the circulating library. On three sides
+of the room were bookcases reaching to the rather low ceiling. For the
+rest, the place was provided with a ladder to be used in gathering
+such fruits of literature as hung out of reach. And then there was
+a big, thick book, in which the diligent and reliable young man of
+Protestant faith was to enroll the names of the people who paid a
+dubbeltje a week for a book. It's cheaper now.
+
+"You see," said Mr. Motto, "that is the book, so to say the great
+book. You understand bookkeeping, don't you?"
+
+Unfortunately Walter had to admit that he had not yet studied that
+branch.
+
+"Nor bookkeeping, either? Boy! that's the main thing in business. If
+a man can't do that his cake's dough. It's very simple. You write down
+who takes out a book, with the day and date and street and number. And
+when they bring the book back you drawn a line through it; and you've
+got a pretty kettle of fish if you don't do it. When you don't know
+the people you must----"
+
+"Ask for a deposit!" cried Walter quickly, rejoiced that he knew
+something. It's doubtful if he knew what he was to draw the line
+through.
+
+"Yes, a deposit. A florin a week for a volume. Then, you understand,
+when a volume's gone, the cake's dough with that volume. Later I will
+explain to you everything about the cigars and tobacco; but first
+I must know whether your mother--ask her right away! And now I've
+explained everything to you at least half a dozen times. For there's
+no lack of boys that want to go into business; but when it comes to
+Moses and the Prophets--then they set the bow-sails. And that's the
+main thing. Otherwise you look a little delicate, but I must know
+first if your mother can deposit a caution. Adieu!"
+
+Walter went home in a peculiar frame of mind. At first the family
+did not think favorably of that "cash security." Stoffel, however,
+had often heard of such things, and negotiations were opened with
+the said firm. It was finally agreed that a deposit of one hundred
+florins should be made, for which the firm agreed to pay 3 1/2%
+interest. Juffrouw Pieterse was not quite satisfied with this, as
+she was accustomed to getting 4%; but "one must do something for
+one's children."
+
+Stoffel, who represented the Pieterses in these negotiations, was
+surprised that he never got to see more than the first half of
+the firm--or, better, the first third. He even took the liberty
+of remarking on the peculiar circumstance, when he learned that
+the "Co." was merely ornamental, while "Business" existed only in
+Mr. Motto's imagination. In fact that handsome and worthy gentleman
+alone constituted the "responsible business firm," and like an Atlas
+carried on his broad shoulders all the responsibilities incident to
+such a complicated and extensive undertaking. It was quite natural
+that he should desire to put a part of the burden on the back of some
+diligent, reliable Protestant boy, who could furnish cash security. For
+that was "the main thing."
+
+On the library side Walter developed a diligence against which only
+one thing could be urged: it was prejudicial to the tobacco industry
+adjoining. If he had smoked as much as he read, he would have made
+himself sick; and even his reading wasn't the best thing in the world
+for his health.
+
+He devoured everything indiscriminately--whether ripe or green. Most
+of that literary fruit was green. In a short time he was able to
+foretell the fate of the hero with a certainty that would have piqued
+the author. The cleverest literary craftsman couldn't let the poor
+orphan boy be as poor as a church mouse for ten pages, but that
+Walter would see the flashing of the stars and knightly crucifixes
+with which he was to be decked out on the last page. One might think
+this would cause him to lose interest in the book; but, no! He was
+constant to the end--to the official triumph. For him it would have
+been a sin to call to the Saxons and Normans a second too soon:
+"See if Ivanhoe isn't going to smash that big-mouthed Sir Brian de
+Bois-Guilbert!" And all the time he felt as if he were--Ivanhoe? No,
+as if he were the deity, who must give the hero strength to overcome
+that infamous scoundrel, Brian de Bois-Guilbert.
+
+Then all at once the door-bell would ring, and the magnanimous Walter
+would have to occupy himself with things less chivalrous.
+
+The only thing he could do in such moments was to weigh accurately,
+and not give anybody a cigar from the "tens" instead of from
+the "eights." Such conscienciousness, however, was futile, for
+in the cigar-boxes were cigars that ought to have been called
+"twenties." Mr. Motto said that the customers were usually drunk,
+and that it was all right to give them cabbage leaves to smoke. "You
+must size up your customer. That's the main thing."
+
+This was something Walter never could learn. With him, ten was ten,
+eight eight--no matter who the customer was. To take an unfair
+advantage, or tell a lie never occurred to him. From fear or
+embarrassment he might possibly tell an untruth; but if he had been
+asked a second time----
+
+As strange as it may seem, this aversion to lying and deception
+was nourished by the books he read. The brave knight fought till he
+was victorious, or dead. Only the fatally wounded surrendered. All
+this had Walter's hearty endorsement: He would not have acted
+differently. The beautiful heroine was loved by everybody; and the
+rejected suitors died of despair, or joined some desperate band. All
+quite proper. The good remained steadfast, in spite of the Devil and
+all his machinations--yes, in spite of tedium. Once selected by the
+author to be a high-toned, moral hero--then spotless garments! Walter
+wondered if such a one could have a pain in the stomach, or suffer
+other inconvenience. Certainly not in books!
+
+He did not know that such perfection was humbug. He was satisfied
+when the characters in such novels did what was required of them by
+the author. The villains were always betraying somebody; the heroes
+killed everything that got in their way; and the beautiful virgins
+charmed everybody. Even God, the God of romance, did his duty much
+better than--but that's another detail.
+
+Yesterday on the Zeedyk a big boy had beaten a little fellow. That
+ought to happen in a book. How all the knights would have come
+running! Walter, too, was going to--but how could he help it if his
+employer called him back? "What in the devil have you got to do with
+that? Your work is here in the store. You attend to your own business
+now, and don't mix yourself in other people's brawls. That's the
+main thing!"
+
+As a rule of conduct, this was not just what Walter was used to in
+his novels.
+
+Despite such interruptions he continued his reading. He was almost
+ready to begin on the last section of books, when he came to the
+store one morning and found everything locked up and under seal.
+
+The worthy Mr. Motto, it seems, had gone to America, as a sailor;
+and doubtless that was the "main thing." The unfortunate owner of the
+two snuff-vases had a big law suit over them. The point was whether
+they were a part of the assets, or not.
+
+On the Zeedyk at Amsterdam such processes must be tried according
+to Roman law; but as the Romans did not use snuff there is nothing
+said about "Rappee" in the Roman laws. The writer doesn't know how
+the matter finally turned out. It is to be hoped that everybody got
+what was coming to him.
+
+Juffrouw Pieterse, however, did not recover her hundred florins; and,
+as usual, she groaned: "There's always trouble with this boy."
+
+Walter couldn't help her. He had his own troubles: he had been cruelly
+interrupted in his reading. Of course the mysterious parentage of
+the young robber was perfectly clear to him; but still one likes to
+see whether one has guessed correctly, or not.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+"Do you think stivers grow on my back?" asked the mother the next
+day. "You still don't earn a doit! Do you have to buy tobacco for
+old soldiers?"
+
+Walter had nothing to say. Recently his mother had given him a shilling
+to give to Holsma's maid. Walter neglected to do this, and spent one
+stiver of the money on snuff for an old soldier.
+
+The mother continued her tirade, making use of the word "prodigue,"
+prodigal.
+
+"No, mother," said Stoffel, "that isn't it. He's behind in
+everything. He doesn't know yet how to handle money, that's it!"
+
+"Yes. He doesn't know how to handle money! All the other children at
+his age--when they have a stiver they either save it or buy themselves
+something. And he--what does he do? He goes and gives it away! Boy,
+boy, will you never learn any sense?"
+
+Walter was cut to the quick by the accusation of wastefulness and
+prodigality. In his eyes a prodigal was somebody, a man! "Prodigue,
+prodigue," he murmured. He knew the word.
+
+In one of the bedrooms hung a series of crude, highly colored pictures
+illustrating the story of the prodigal son. The pictures were French;
+and a study of the titles convinced the family that "prodigue" could
+mean nothing but prodigal in the worst sense, i. e., "lost." Stoffel
+had maintained this proposition against one of his colleagues, till
+that one drew a lexicon on him.
+
+After much argument it was decided to compromise on the "mistake"
+in the French Bible by allowing "prodigue" to have sometimes the
+meaning of "extravagant." Those pictures had afforded Walter much
+food for thought.
+
+First picture: The "lost" or prodigal son tells his father
+good-bye. The old gentleman wears a purple coat. Very pretty--but the
+prodigal himself! A mantle floated about his shoulders--it seemed to
+be windy in the colonnade. It was princely; and his turkish trousers
+were of pure gold. At his side was a bent sabre, and on his head a
+turban, with a stone in it--certainly onyx, or sardonox, or a pearl,
+or a precious stone--or whatever it might be!
+
+The old gentleman seemed to be out of humor; but no wonder--all those
+loaded camels, and the slaves, and all the accessories for that long,
+long journey! A negro, as black as pitch, was holding a horse by
+the rein. Another negro was holding the stirrup, and seemed to say:
+"Off to the Devil; prodigal, get on!"
+
+What boy wouldn't have been a prodigal son? The bent sabre alone was
+worth the sin.
+
+Second picture: Hm--hm. Wicked, wicked! Why, certainly; but not for
+Walter, who in his innocence attached no importance to the extravagant
+dresses of the "Juffrouwen." It was sufficient that all were eating
+and drinking bountifully, and that they were in good spirits and
+enjoying themselves. How prettily one of the girls, in glossy silk,
+was leaning over the shoulder of the "lost" one! How much nicer to be
+lost than found!--anyway, that was the impression the feast made on
+Walter. The true purpose of the picture--to deter people from a life of
+dissoluteness--escaped Walter entirely. Perhaps he knew what it meant;
+but in his heart he felt that it meant something else. What attracted
+him most was not the food and drink, under which the table "groaned,"
+nor the sinful sensuality painted on the faces of the ladies. It was
+the freedom and unconventionality of the company that charmed him. In
+order to emphasize the idea of prodigality, the painter had allowed
+some big dogs to upset an open cask of wine.
+
+The wine was streaming, and straying away as if it were the lost
+sinner. This pleased Walter immensely. None of the guests seemed to
+notice such a small trifle, not even the waiters. This ought to have
+happened just once in the Pieterse home--and even if it were only a
+stein of beer!
+
+The artist says to himself, Do you suppose I didn't foresee the
+seductive influence of such a picture? The next one makes it all right!
+
+Well, maybe so.
+
+Third picture: Magnificent. How romantic this wilderness! Oh, to
+sit there on that boulder and stare into the immeasurable depths of
+the universe--alone!
+
+To think, think, think!
+
+No schoolmaster, no mother, brother, or anyone to say what he
+must do with his heart, with his time, with his elbows, or with his
+breeches! That's the way Walter saw it. The young man there didn't even
+have on breeches; and he looked as if he wouldn't have been ashamed
+to stretch himself out on his back, with his arms over his head, and
+watch with wide-open eyes the passing of the moon and stars. Walter
+asked himself what he would think of when he had founded such an
+empire of solitude.
+
+Hm! Femke could sit on the boulder with him. Prodigal son--oh,
+sin divine with her! He was surprised that in the whole Bible there
+was only one prodigal son. Of all sins this seemed to him the most
+seductive.
+
+And the desert was so--endurable. There were trees in it, which one
+could climb, when one really got lost, or use to build a nice little
+cabin--for Femke, of course.
+
+The prodigal in the picture didn't seem to have thought of all
+that. Why wasn't the Juffrouw in green silk with him? She will come
+soon, Walter said to himself. Perhaps she's not quite through with
+her prodigality. If she would only hurry up and come! He longs for
+her. But that is the only annoyance that a genuine prodigal takes
+with him from the profane world into that capital wilderness.
+
+It must be remarked in passing, however, that the hogs with which
+that picture was equipped looked ugly. The pious artist had made them
+shield-bearers of sin, and had supplied their physiognomies with all
+kinds of horrible features. And, too, the trough looked dirty.
+
+If it happens to me, said Walter, I'll take sheep with me; and Femke
+can card the wool.
+
+The artist ought to admit that even this third picture is inadequate
+to inspire a proper disgust for prodigality.
+
+And the fourth one? No better.
+
+The old gentleman is excessively friendly. We are again in the
+colonnade, where the camels have just waited so patiently. One of the
+slaves clasps his hands and looks toward heaven--because he's glad,
+of course, that little Walter has come back.
+
+He? The real Walter? Returned home, and friendly received in his high
+rank of a "has-been" and "recovered" prodigal? Oh, no!
+
+And that fatted calf! In direct opposition to the custom that was
+familiar to Walter! It worried the boy. Juffrouw Pieterse never
+slaughtered anything. She ran a weekly account with Keesje's father;
+and even a roast was a rarity.
+
+There was no prospect of a fatted calf, whether he became a prodigal
+or not. But that didn't keep the rank of a prodigal from being higher
+than that of a stupid boy who didn't know how to handle money.
+
+He was encouraged to think that he was indebted to his friendly
+enemy, Juffrouw Laps, for something. She always cited the Bible,
+and spoke continually of feeding swine. Walter wanted to answer:
+"That's very nice, Juffrouw Laps, but can't it be sheep this time?"
+
+He knew very well that she had never had any passion for carding,
+and consequently was not interested in that blue muffler, which would
+be so becoming to Femke's favorite sheep.
+
+But she assured him that he was a prodigal; and that was enough.
+
+"That's what I've always said!" replied Juffrouw Pieterse. "What
+does he do but squander his mother's money? If that man wants snuff,
+let him buy it. The king pays him. I have to work too hard for my
+money. Don't I, Stoffel?"
+
+"Yes, mother; but it's only childishness in Walter!"
+
+"Childishness! That's what I call it."
+
+"No it isn't!" cried the pious Laps. "He's on the straight road to
+the trough of Luke 15. He will eat husks! Do you think the Master
+doesn't carry out his parables? Just send him to me. The pastors are
+to blame for it. They don't explain the Bible. Send him to me."
+
+"If I only knew how he gets such things into his head!"
+
+"You don't know? It's arrogance!"
+
+She spoke the truth.
+
+"Arrogance, Arrogance pure and simple--just as it was in Belshazzar,
+or Sennacherib, or Nebuchadnezzar."
+
+How thankful Walter was! If at this moment he had had a letter to
+write--preferably to Femke--he would have boasted of being as wicked
+as three old kings put together.
+
+"Arrogance!" repeated Juffrouw Laps. "Gold on top, iron in the middle,
+and feet of clay. The Master will overthrow him. Send him to me."
+
+This invitation to turn over the royal villain to her for religious
+instruction was repeated so often that it was necessary to give her
+an answer.
+
+"But, dear Juffrouw, the boy don't want to. He's stubborn; and what
+can one do with such a child?"
+
+Walter knew that his mother was not quite truthful; but, after his
+former experience with his friendly enemy, he found it desirable to
+keep quiet. When pressed, however, for an explanation he said:
+
+"The man wanted snuff, and nobody would give him any; so I----"
+
+Juffrouw Laps knew enough. Walter was as good as her prisoner: she
+now knew exactly how to take his fortifications, if they could be
+taken at all.
+
+"If he doesn't want to come to me, don't compel him," she said sweetly
+on leaving. "To force him won't do any good. Let him exercise his own
+pleasure. I'm afraid you pick at the child too much, anyway. What an
+awful fuss we've made over a stiver!"
+
+"That's what I say, too," replied the mother. "It looks as if we
+begrudged him the money! We could have spared another stiver, and we
+wouldn't have missed it, would we, Stoffel?"
+
+"Yes, mother, but it's time for Walter----"
+
+"Goodness, what a hullaballoo to raise about a few pinches of
+snuff! The Master will repay it seven times seventy times. Whatever
+ye have done to the least of my brothers----"
+
+With this consoling passage on her lips she took her leave of the
+astonished family.
+
+Yes, it wasn't so easy to see through Juffrouw Laps!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+In his efforts to reconcile the various conflicting authorities
+contesting for supremacy in his soul, Walter threw himself into a
+severe spell of blues. He was not conscious of the contrast between
+the world of his high-flown fancy and the earthy environment of his
+home-life. The sympathetic care which he should have received after
+his illness had not fallen to his lot.
+
+He felt dejected.
+
+"Femke!" he thought; and he longed for her fresh healthy face,
+for her pure, unselfish glance, for her friendly smile. The Fancy
+that had led him away to the stars in search of his misty sister had
+got lodged on that girl of the Amsterdam lowlands, Femke--with her
+unpoetical length, breadth, thickness, and weight.
+
+"I am going to see her," he cried. "I will! And if Mrs. Claus asks
+me about worms a dozen times, it's all the same to me; I am going to
+see her!"
+
+Walter reached the house and knocked. "Come in!" someone called. This
+was a little sudden, for it took some time to get hold of the
+latch. But Walter did it. Perhaps he was thinking of Missolonghi.
+
+The Turks that he saw now were not revolting in appearance. They were
+unarmed and did not murder a single baby.
+
+But--Femke was not in the party.
+
+Mrs. Claus was at the wash-tub, while Father Jansen was quietly
+smoking.
+
+"Is that you, young man? Very nice! That's the young man who gave
+Femke the picture, you remember, father?"
+
+The father nodded to him kindly and smoked away, without manifesting
+any special Godliness.
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw, I wanted to----"
+
+"Very nice of you! Won't you have a slice of bread and butter? And how
+is your mother? Is she better now? She was sick, wasn't she? That's
+a good boy, father. Femke said so. Is your mother better again? It
+was fever, wasn't it? or apoplexy--or what was it then?"
+
+"Oh, no! Juffrouw."
+
+"You mustn't call me Juffrouw. I am only a wash-woman. Everyone must
+stay in his own class, mustn't he, father? Well, it's all the better;
+I thought she had been sick. It must have been somebody else. One
+has so much to think of. Do you like cheese?"
+
+The good woman prepared a slice of bread and butter, with cheese. If
+Trudie could have seen it, she would have fainted. In the "citizen's
+class," such and such a sub-class, according to Pennewip, is found
+a certain scantiness that does not obtain in the common laboring
+class. In the matter of eating, laborers, who do not invest their
+money in Geneva, are not troubled so much by "good form" as people
+who give their children French names.
+
+Walter had never seen such a slice of bread. He didn't know whether he
+ought to bite through the width, or the thickness. The bit of cheese
+gave him his cue.
+
+He liked Mrs. Claus much better this time. And Father Jansen, too;
+even if he wasn't like Walter had imagined him to be.
+
+He had never conceived a preacher as being anything else but a very
+supernatural and spiritual and celestial sort of person. Father Jansen
+didn't seem to be that kind of a man at all.
+
+He visited the sheep of his fold, especially the plain people, not
+to make a display of beneficence--for he had nothing, but because he
+was happiest among simple people. He was fond of bread and butter of
+the Mrs. Claus variety. For the rest, he said mass, preached about
+sin, catechised, confirmed, absolved, and did whatever needed to be
+done. He performed the functions of his office, and did not think
+it at all strange that he should have gone into the church, while
+his brother in Nordbrabant succeeded to the business of his father,
+who was a farrier and inn-keeper.
+
+"And what are you going to be?" he asked Walter; "for everybody in the
+world must be something. Wouldn't you like to be a bookbinder? That's
+a good trade."
+
+"I was--I was in business, M'neer; and I'm going back to business."
+
+"That's good, my boy. You may get rich. Especially here in Amsterdam;
+for Amsterdam is a commercial city."
+
+Walter wanted to add: "The greatest commercial city of Europe." But
+he was abashed by the--worldliness of Father Jansen's talk. He didn't
+find it disagreeable: he was merely surprised at it.
+
+"A boy like you ought to eat a lot. You look pale. My brother can bend
+a horseshoe. What do you say to that? Have you ever eaten our Brabant
+bread? Ham isn't bad, either. A person that doesn't eat enough gets
+weak. I always eat two slices of bread and butter whenever I'm here
+at Mrs. Claus's; but I'm not nearly so strong as my brother. You
+ought to see the Vucht fair. That's a great time."
+
+Walter was more than surprised to hear such talk from a preacher: he
+was almost pleased. He had never received such charming messages from
+heaven. Of course they came from heaven, those friendly words uttered
+in Brabant dialect between the puffs of Father Jansen's pipe. This
+man in a priest's coat chattered away as if there were no such thing
+in the world as God, Grace, and Hell--especially the latter. He was
+as happy as a child in telling about the strength of his brother,
+the horseshoer. It was his business to lead the world to eternal
+happiness; and he liked thick slices of bread and butter with cheese.
+
+Walter had never had religious things opened up to him so
+delightfully. He felt encouraged to speak:
+
+"M'neer, I would like to know who God is!"
+
+Father Jansen started, and looked at Walter as if he hadn't clearly
+understood the question.
+
+"Yes--that's very praiseworthy in you. You must----"
+
+"But, father," cried Mrs. Claus, "the child isn't in the church! Are
+you?"--to Walter.
+
+"Yes, Juffrouw, I have been confirmed."
+
+"To be sure, to be sure, but----"
+
+"On the Noordermarkt!"
+
+"Well, you see he's in the church all right."
+
+The good woman didn't have the heart--or else she had too much
+heart--to tell the father that it wasn't the right church.
+
+"Whoever wants to get acquainted with God," said Father Jansen,
+"must study diligently."
+
+"To be sure," said Mrs. Claus, "the articles of faith. You ought to
+hear my Femke repeat them. It's a pleasure, isn't it, father? She's
+my only child, but--she's a girl worth having!"
+
+"Yes, Femke is an excellent girl. I don't have any trouble with her."
+
+The father spoke in a business-like manner; and he meant it that
+way. The spots on Femke's soul were easily removed. He praised Femke
+as a cook would praise a kitchen-pot.
+
+Father Jansen had still more praise for Femke: she had patched his
+drawers so nicely.
+
+Oh, Fancy!
+
+The mention of this fact did not touch Walter's aesthetic feelings. With
+him there were other considerations. Fancy was used to seeing
+everything nude--fathers, humanity--so there was no difficulty here.
+
+Walter was sixteen years old, already a little man--why must Femke
+patch drawers for this father!
+
+"Yes," said the mother. "Femke is clever at patching. If you've got
+anything else that needs mending, just send it over."
+
+Walter was warm. If it had been collars, socks, waistcoats, or--well,
+if it had to be something questionable--if it had only been trousers!
+
+"Just send it over, and if Femke isn't here----"
+
+"Where is she going to be?" thought Walter.
+
+"Then I will attend to it myself. I can do it neatly."
+
+Thank God! Dear, good, magnificent Mrs. Claus! Do it, do it yourself,
+and leave Femke where she is.
+
+But--where was she?
+
+Thus Walter's thoughts; but what did he say?--the hypocrite, the
+budding man.
+
+"Yes, indeed, Mrs. Claus, I had almost forgotten to ask where your
+daughter Femke is."
+
+"Femke? She's at my niece's, where the girl is sick. You know we're
+of good family. Femke is looking after my niece's children."
+
+Walter didn't have the courage to ask where this niece lived, so he
+assumed a look of contentment.
+
+After much waiting and twisting and turning on his chair, Walter
+finally left the house with Father Jansen. He had not yet learned
+how to end a visit: some people never learn it.
+
+"Don't you want to do me a favor?" said the good man. "Then walk on
+my right side. I'm deaf here"--pointing to his left ear.
+
+"I will tell you how it happened. When I was a little boy--are you
+a good climber?"
+
+"No, M'neer!"
+
+"Well, I am! In the whole of Vucht there wasn't a boy who could
+climb as well as I could. Do you know what I did once? I climbed up
+and slipped a flower-pot from a third-story window. And--my priest
+wasn't in a good humor at all! He didn't want to accept me till I had
+returned that flower-pot; and then I had to go and beg the old woman's
+pardon. And she herself went to the priest to intercede for me. Then
+he accepted me. But I got twenty 'confiteors'--oh, he was severe!
+
+"But I was going to tell you why I'm deaf in the left ear.
+
+"In one of the seminaries was a student--he's a canonicus in the Rhine
+country, and will get to be a cardinal, perhaps pope, for--he was
+very sly! I will tell you, his name was--Rake; but, you understand,
+his name was really something else. This Rake was a mean rascal; but he
+was never punished, because he was careful. See if he doesn't get to be
+a cardinal, or pope! You ought to hear him quote from the Vulgate. He
+could rattle away for three hours and never made a mistake." * * *
+
+"Are you perfectly crazy, boy, or what is the matter with you? Walking
+with a priest! What in the name of the Lord are you thinking about? Go
+in the house--quick! Jesu, what troubles I have with that child!"
+
+With these words Juffrouw Pieterse broke off Walter's acquaintance
+with Father Jansen for this time.
+
+The way that the father and Walter had taken led them directly by
+Walter's home. Juffrouw Pieterse, who was haggling with a Jew over the
+price of a basket of potatoes, narrowly escaped a stroke of apoplexy
+when she saw them together.
+
+"With a priest!--Stoffel! Come down quick--that boy is walking with
+a priest!"
+
+Tears rose in Walter's eyes. He had found Father Jansen a good man,
+and was grieved that that gentleman should meet with such a reception.
+
+It is to be hoped that those rude words were received by his left
+ear. In fact, this seemed to be the case, for when Walter said that
+he was at home now and that his mother was calling him, Father Jansen
+answered kindly:
+
+"So? You live there? Then I will tell you the next time why I am so
+deaf in my left ear--entirely deaf, you understand!"
+
+Thank God, Walter thought, and wiped away his tears. In his eyes his
+mother had committed a sin so grave that about fifty "confiteors"
+would be necessary for its expiation.
+
+"Oh, yes. I was going to tell you----"
+
+With these words Father Jansen turned around again. He continued:
+"The flower-pot of the old lady, Juffrouw Dungelaar, you know--it
+wasn't for the flowers, you understand, nor for the pot, but only
+because I could climb so well. Otherwise--one mustn't take anything
+away, even if it is so high up. Adieu, young man!"
+
+After giving Juffrouw Pieterse a friendly greeting that she did not
+deserve, the man continued on his way.
+
+Stoffel said that to walk with a priest was "simply preposterous."
+
+"As if he were crazy!" said Juffrouw Pieterse.
+
+"Yes," agreed Stoffel, "but it's because he has nothing to do but
+loaf around. If that keeps up, he will never amount to anything."
+
+True, Walter was loafing around; but he was not idle. His activities
+brought nothing palpable to light, still he was building up the inner
+life in a manner of which Stoffel had no idea.
+
+"Of course!" said the mother. "He must have work. If he were only
+willing to be a compositor! or an apprentice in the shoe-business. To
+make shoes--that he shall never do."
+
+"This running with priests comes only from idleness, mother. Do I
+run with priests? Never. Why not? Because I have to go to my school
+every day!"
+
+"Yes, Stoffel, you go to your school every day."
+
+"Besides, there are good priests. There was Luther, for instance. He
+was a sort of priest. What did he do?"
+
+"Yes, I know. He reformed the people."
+
+"He made them Lutherans, mother; but that's almost the same thing. One
+mustn't be narrow-minded."
+
+"That's what I say, Stoffel, people ought not to be so
+narrow-minded. What difference does it make what a person's religion
+is, just so he's upright, and not a Roman Catholic!"
+
+When Walter told Father Jansen that he "was in business," and that
+he was "going back to business," he spoke better than he himself
+knew. He did go back to business.
+
+Through a leather-dealer, who, speaking commercially, was in close
+touch with shoes that came from Paris, Walter got a position with a
+firm whose "responsibility" was somewhat less apocryphal than that of
+Messrs. Motto, Business & Co. He was to begin his new apprenticeship
+in the offices of Messrs. Ouwetyd & Kopperlith, a firm of world-wide
+reputation.
+
+However, before he was to enter upon his new duties, all sorts of
+things were destined to happen, with the tendency to make Walter
+appear as a "hero of romance," which he wasn't at all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+It was Thursday. Stoffel came home with the important news that the
+king--I don't know what king--had arrived in the city unexpectedly
+and would visit the theatre that evening. Everything and everybody
+was in a commotion; for in republican countries much importance is
+given to pomp and title.
+
+This time curiosity was more wrought up than usual. Many foreign
+princes, including an emperor, were visiting the king; and these
+distinguished personages would follow the court to Amsterdam, coming
+from The Hague, Utrecht and Haarlem. To put it tamely, it was to be
+a great occasion.
+
+That republican populace was to get to see the countenance and
+coat-tails not only of their tyrant, but also the countenances and
+coat-tails of many other tyrants, not to mention female tyrants.
+
+The old doughnut women on the "Dam," which the city rented to them as
+a market-place, were threatening to bring suit against the city. They
+felt that it was hard to have to pay rent for the fresh air, day after
+day, with the prospect of selling a few doughnuts to the youth of
+the street, and now be run out because his majesty wanted to exhibit
+himself to the people from the balcony of the old City Hall.
+
+Why shouldn't the old women be seen at their accustomed places? Must
+the doughnut industry be carried on secretly? Was it for fear of
+imitations and unprincely competition? Or was it to keep the old
+women from seeing the king?
+
+At any rate, the whole kit of them had to leave. At most, they could
+only mix with the crowd incognito, and afterwards might join in
+the prearranged "Long live the King!" or somebody else, as the case
+might be.
+
+It is really remarkable that princes die. Seemingly the "vivats"
+are of no avail.
+
+The crowd was especially large, on account of the many majesties and
+highnesses who had gathered about the tyrant.
+
+Among the number was the Prince of Caramania, who had especial claims
+upon the sympathy of the people, so all the newspapers said. One of
+his ancestors had been a captain in the service of the state and had,
+therefore, spilt his blood for the freedom of the Netherlands.
+
+This blood, and perhaps the freedom as well, was newspaper
+arabesque. It was certain, however, that the prince wore a green
+coat with gold frogs; and upon his head he had a big plume. It was,
+therefore, quite proper for the crowd to cry occasionally "Long live
+the Prince of Caramania!"
+
+Among the eminent gentlemen was a certain duke, who, by reason of his
+virtues, had got himself banished from his country. The man was thrifty
+and economical, though without neglecting himself. Nevertheless,
+the rabble had dethroned him and sent him across the border with a
+bushel of diamonds. Of these diamonds he was now to display a few
+dozen in the shape of coat-buttons and the like. The newspapers gave
+the crowd their cue accordingly. They were to cry: "Long live the
+Duke with his diamonds!"
+
+Princess Erika was the niece of the king, and was to marry the
+crown-prince of a great empire, which was indebted to the Netherlands
+for its prominence. The newspapers gave the assurance that this empire
+would pay off the national debt of the Netherlands if the people
+would only put enough enthusiasm into a "Long live Princess Erika!"
+
+The old Countess-palatine of Aetolia was descended directly from
+a certain knight who treated his hostlers like princes. In this
+case it was not inappropriate for a republican populace to ask for
+a prolongation of her ladyship's life. The cry was: "Long live the
+Countess-palatine of Aetolia!"
+
+The Grand-duke of Ysland was the handsome grandson of a shopman. His
+merits would fill three columns of fine print. The man was a master
+of the type-case himself, and by exerting himself could even set up
+his own name. The newspapers said that having safely passed an ocean
+of pitfalls, he had now perfected himself as the brother-in-law of
+a demi-god. Therefore, whoever had the interest of his country at
+heart could not afford to fail to bellow at the top of his voice:
+"Long live the Grand-duke of Ysland!"
+
+There were still more potentates and ladies of quality who had honored
+Amsterdam with a visit. They had heard that the city was la Venise
+du Nord, that it was tres interessant, tres interessant! etc.
+
+And the Holland herrings! Delicieux! Unfortunately the Netherlanders
+didn't know how to cook them; they must be baked.
+
+And the Holland school of painting! Rambrann--magnifique!
+
+There were still other good things in Holland, as their highnesses
+testified with patronizing kindness.
+
+"Il parait qu'un certain Wondele a ecrit des choses, des choses--mais
+des choses--passablement bien!"
+
+And the dikes! And the Katwyk sluice--gigantesque!
+
+Whatever spare time they might have after making cheese and cooking
+herrings, the Holland people liked to devote to fighting the
+elements. After skating and racing this was the favorite recreation
+of the nation.
+
+I can assure the reader that the aristocratic party took their
+departure thoroughly satisfied with our country. The only person who
+received quite a different impression--but I will not anticipate the
+feelings of our hero. Even a writer has his duties.
+
+The first evening everything was to be illuminated. Two hundred
+and fifty thousand candles were to proclaim the enthusiasm of the
+people. Two hundred and fifty thousand fiery tongues were to cry:
+"Hosanna! Blessed be he who comes in the name of----" In whose
+name? Hosanna for whom? For what?
+
+Well, that was a matter of indifference to the people. They knew
+that there was something doing, that there was a crowd, and that
+was enough. People are somewhat like children, who amuse themselves
+immensely in the confusion of a "moving," of a death, or of anything
+that causes commotion and excitement.
+
+Walter had got permission to see the illumination. Unconsciously
+he assumed that stupid expression which is obligatory on such
+occasions. He listened to the conversation of those about him.
+
+"That's what I call illuminating! Nine candles for such a big house!"
+
+"Twelve!" cried another.
+
+"No, nine."
+
+"Twelve!"
+
+"Nine!"
+
+"Three--three--three--and three. Look there are twelve, or I can't
+count."
+
+"No, the three above don't count. That story is rented. I know it."
+
+"Well--if you mean it that way. I only said that four times three
+are twelve. What do you say, Hannes?"
+
+Hannes found the calculation correct.
+
+"How long will the candles burn?"
+
+"Till about one o'clock, I suppose."
+
+"I don't believe it!"
+
+"Well, I do!"
+
+"But I don't!----"
+
+"Have you been in the Sukkelgracht?"
+
+"Oh, it isn't pretty there."
+
+"You think so? Prettier than here."
+
+"Oh, no!"
+
+"Yes, it is!----"
+
+"Look there; there's a verse."
+
+"Yes, a verse. Can you read it?"
+
+"Certainly! Let me see, what is it?"
+
+"I can read it, too."
+
+"It's about 'illustrious blood'----"
+
+"Yes, and 'our country,' and 'dedicated to honor and virtue.'"
+
+"And 'his illustrious blood'----"
+
+"No, there it stands--'torn from the barbarians'----"
+
+"That comes later. 'Illustrious blood'----"
+
+"Of Holland's hero----"
+
+"Welcome, hero!"
+
+"I wonder if the king looks at the candles. Do you suppose he reads
+such verses and copies them?"
+
+"Oh, he has his ministers for that."
+
+"Or generals. He has seen or read about lots of nice things."
+
+"As nice as here?"
+
+"Why, of course!"
+
+"I don't believe it."
+
+"Well, I do."
+
+"Do you know what I think? He likes to look at the lights too."
+
+"You think so?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"No, you don't believe that."
+
+"Don't crowd so!"
+
+"I can't help it. They're crowding me."
+
+"The people are pushing and shoving as if they were crazy."
+
+"Did you ever see the like? You know what I think? Kalver Street
+ought to be as wide again as it is."
+
+"Yes, as wide again. The street's too narrow."
+
+"That's why everybody's scroudging so."
+
+There was much truth in this. Pressure was high. People were mashed
+and squeezed together. Those who, by reason of a lack of avoirdupois,
+were less firmly attached to the ground, were lifted bodily. Walter
+hung suspended in mid-air and looked over the heads of men much taller
+than he.
+
+"Are you walking on stilts?" asked a big fat woman, whose hips had
+come into collision with Walter's knees. "Well, that's something."
+
+The pressure was increasing. It seemed that the fat woman would soon
+have Walter on her shoulder, like a gun; while Walter was thinking
+that soon he would be roaming over the country like a knight. No one
+was looking at the candles now. People were finding their amusement
+in crowding and being crowded.
+
+No, Kalver Street ought not to be widened. For, properly understood,
+this crowding and pushing and shoving was the nicest part of the
+whole business.
+
+How tedious it would have been quietly to watch those two hundred
+and fifty thousand candles from some comfortable position.
+
+Our little man lay on the heads and shoulders of his brothers. Like
+some aspirants to a throne, he threw himself upon the masses. But he
+was beginning to feel generally uncomfortable. He wanted to hold on
+fast to something, or somebody--to somebody's ears, or nose. That,
+however, did not suit the masses. They didn't mind being squeezed;
+but they didn't like to be held on to.
+
+Crash!
+
+Don't let the reader be alarmed. Walter had not burst under the strain;
+but the pressure of the crowd had broken in the double doors of a
+cafe! The irruption was terrible. The way the crowd streamed in might
+be compared to the flow of molten lava. Walter described a parabolic
+curve and landed on a table, without suffering any damage.
+
+"Walter Pieterse!" cried the astonished party sitting around the table.
+
+"Have you hurt yourself, Walter?"
+
+No, he hadn't hurt himself; but he was rigid with surprise. Firstly,
+over his ascent; secondly, over his aerial journey; then over his
+descent among all kinds of glassware; and, finally--and that was not
+the least surprising thing--he was surprised to find himself all at
+once in the bosom of the Holsma family.
+
+It was Sietske who asked him if he was hurt.
+
+All the glasses, both great and small, were broken; but Walter was
+still in one piece. Uncle Sybrand helped him to his feet. It wasn't
+easy, for the press was great. However, Walter's size facilitated
+matters.
+
+The proprietor couldn't reach the scene of action, but he was able
+to make his voice heard to the effect that everything broken must be
+paid for. From other tables came the noise of more breaking glass. The
+man was desperate. He cursed kings and masses indiscriminately.
+
+"One bottle of wine, three lemonades, six glasses!" cried Holsma,
+assuming the responsibility for Walter's unintentional work of
+destruction.
+
+Uncle Sybrand was holding up the money to pay for everything.
+
+"Oh, M'neer, I'm afraid to go home after this," cried Walter. "How
+can I pay for that? And my mother----"
+
+In the noise and jumble Holsma did not understand; but Sietske
+understood.
+
+"Sh!" she whispered. "Papa will pay for it all. Besides, I have money;
+and William, too; and Hermann. Just be quiet."
+
+Walter still did not understand. When, under the protection of the
+Holsmas, he was safe on the outside again, and the entire party had
+escaped the mob by taking a side street, he reiterated that he did
+dare show his face to his mother and Stoffel.
+
+"It doesn't make any difference about the money," said Holsma. "I
+will attend to that. Why, boy, you're scared half to death. You're
+shaking. Come along home with us where you can rest a bit and quiet
+yourself."
+
+The distance, however, proved too short to have the desired quieting
+effect on Walter.
+
+"My mother will be angry when I come home late."
+
+Holsma told him that a messenger should be sent to his mother at once,
+so that she would know where he was.
+
+The doctor gave him a sedative and led him into a room adjoining that
+in which the Holsma family were sitting. Walter was to walk up and
+down the room till he felt better; but he soon got tired of this and
+did the very thing that he was not to do; he sat down on a sofa and
+fell asleep.
+
+Whether, in general, it is a good thing to keep in motion after a
+fright--that I do not know. Walter, on the contrary, always felt the
+need of sleep under such circumstances; and this remedy, with which
+nature provided him, usually restored his mental equilibrium. Perhaps,
+after all, it wasn't real sleep: he merely dreamed.
+
+Again he was lifted up, higher and higher, borne by strong hands. A
+man bit him in the hand. The fact was he had scratched his hand on
+a refractory horsehair, which had become tired of acting as stuffing
+for a sofa-pillow.
+
+An angry woman assailed him with abuse. Stupid? Not stupid? We, the
+masses? She let him fall. But he fell in Sietske's lap; and there
+wasn't a single sliver of glassware.
+
+He was happy--but the horsehair scratched him again. Then he heard
+a voice. Was he still dreaming? Yes, dreaming again of soaring and
+falling. There was Femke.
+
+Of course there had to be something about her in his dream, and about
+bleaching the clothes. Father Jansen was there, too, exhibiting to
+the stars the particular garment that Femke had patched. Orion and
+the Great Bear admired this specimen of her handiwork. Walter did not.
+
+"Did you do it yourself?" he heard Sietske asking in the next room. "Or
+couldn't you get through the crowd?"
+
+"No, it was impossible to get through such a mob. I turned it over
+to the man with the peddler's wagon."
+
+What was that? Walter sat up. Father Jansen was gone; Orion, too;
+and the clouds, and the "masses"; but--that voice!
+
+He heard it again.
+
+"I know him very well--oh, so well! He's a good boy." This he heard
+Femke say!
+
+He jumped up and ran into the room where the Holsmas were. He saw
+a triangular piece of a woman's dress disappear through the door;
+then the door closed.
+
+He didn't have the courage--or was something else beside courage
+necessary to ask, "Is that Femke?"
+
+On his way home that evening Walter did not suffer in the least
+from the sensation of being borne through the air; or from anything
+similar. He was on the earth, very much on the earth. He felt lowly.
+
+If he had only seen that bit of Femke's dress somewhere else, and
+not at the Holsmas--not in that swell family; not in the company
+of Sietske, who had so much money in her "savings-bank," nor in the
+presence of the vain William, who was studying Latin!
+
+He was brave enough to feel ashamed of himself; and that's all I can
+say in his favor.
+
+Let us now look at things from the point of view of Juffrouw
+Pieterse. That lady was in the clouds. She was hoping that the
+messenger who had brought her news of Walter had not been able to
+find her flat at once. The idea of someone from Dr. Holsma's asking
+for her through the neighborhood was decidedly pleasant. The longer
+he might have had to inquire for her the better!
+
+"Of course he was at the grocer's," she said. "Such messengers
+never know where they have to go. Of course he told that the 'young
+gentleman' was staying at Dr. Holsma's! And such a man always
+tattles; such people don't do anything but tattle. But, as far as
+I'm concerned, everybody can know it. I only mean that such people
+like to tattle. But--say, Walter, how did it happen that you went
+with the family? You're a nice rascal. Stoffel, what do you say?"
+
+Stoffel made a serious face--as much as to say: "Hm! I'll have to
+think over it. He's been up to something."
+
+"I met the Holsma family in Kalver Street," Walter said. He told
+the truth; he had met the family in Kalver Street. But why didn't he
+tell anything about the extraordinary circumstances under which he
+met them? Ah--there's the rub!
+
+"Your back is so sticky!" complained Pietro, whose care it was to
+look after the washing.
+
+The family rubbed, and felt, and smelt; and then they declared
+unanimously that Walter's back had been guilty of absorbing all kinds
+of sticky gases and liquids.
+
+"Really, it smells like lemon," said Trudie.
+
+"And like wine!"
+
+"And it's just coated with sugar. Boy, where have you been? Don't
+you have any sense of shame? To go to visit such swell people with
+lemon and sugar on your back! It's a disgrace, a disgrace."
+
+"There was such a crowd on the street."
+
+"That don't explain the wine on your back--nor the lemon--nor the
+sugar. What say you, Trudie?"
+
+There was complete unanimity. Timid, as usual, Walter didn't have the
+courage to tell everything. Nor would this have done any good. The
+understanding of the Pieterse family was like a rusty lock that no key
+will open. Walter knew this, and remembering former sad experiences,
+allowed the storm to rage above his head. Unfortunately he, too,
+in a sense, was rusty. His nobility of character had suffered; he
+had been guilty of cowardice.
+
+He felt it. No minister could pray it away. Not even God himself
+could revoke it. Everyone must act according to his conviction,
+Mevrouw Holsma had said. He had not done this.
+
+A dog would have kissed the hem of Femke's garment, meeting her after
+such a long separation. For it was she. Certainly it was Femke--or----
+
+Oh, he was hunting for or's!
+
+Could it have been somebody else? It must have been somebody else. How
+could Femke be at Dr. Holsma's?
+
+No, no, it was she! Didn't she say that she knew me? Didn't she speak
+with the same voice that I heard when she called me a dear boy and
+gave me the kiss at the bridge?
+
+She didn't know then what a coward I am! She wouldn't deny me and
+betray me. She would say to everybody: That is Walter, my little
+friend that I kissed that time, because he was so brave in fighting
+off those boys!
+
+And I? Oh, help me God!
+
+No, God has nothing to do with it. I am a coward. I can't live
+this way.
+
+He thought of suicide; and in this mood he spent that Thursday
+night. He arose Friday morning with the firm determination to put an
+end to his unworthy existence.
+
+Fortunately, just after breakfast he was put to work on a job that
+is calculated to reconcile one with life.
+
+He had been tried and convicted, the verdict being unanimous. The
+penalty was that he should wash his jacket till it was clean. He
+entered upon the task with such enthusiasm that in an hour he was
+running to his mother crying triumphantly:
+
+"Look, mother! You can't see a trace of it now!"
+
+This little conquest dispelled all the clouds that had darkened
+his life.
+
+There are plenty of people who would gladly fall into a barrel of
+lemonade if they only understood the salutary effects of cleaning
+a coat.
+
+The poor unfortunate who has never washed his own clothes does not
+know what life is.
+
+I will ask her pardon, thought Walter; and he pictured it all
+to himself, wondering whether it would do for him to fall at her
+feet at Holsma's, in the presence of the one who had delivered the
+message. Finally, however, he quieted himself with the thought that
+Femke would probably not be at the doctor's very long. He hoped to be
+able then to settle the matter quietly, when only the two concerned
+were present. This was not courageous, to be sure; but his punishment
+was already on the way.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+The events of an eventful Friday were at an end, as it seemed; and
+Walter prepared to climb into the narrow bedstead, which he shared with
+his brother Laurens. He was now in a tranquil frame of mind. He didn't
+even have any desire to romp with Laurens, who, without laying claim to
+geometrical knowledge, usually managed to find the diagonal of the bed.
+
+It was Walter's intention to think over recent events again. He wished
+to busy himself with others; he was tired of himself--at least he
+thought so for a moment.
+
+There was a prince, who distributed money among the people. Oh,
+if I were only a prince!
+
+That wasn't a bad thought. Under the same circumstances, most people
+would have thought: Oh, if I could only have got some of the money!
+
+The countess-palatine from--where from? Well it makes no
+difference. She was in the museum and the papers said she was gracious,
+very gracious.
+
+I would do it too, thought Walter, if I were a countess-palatine. What
+sort of a profession is that?
+
+The king had given audiences--and a dinner--and had said--well, the
+usual things. But for Walter it was new and interesting. The welfare of
+the city seemed to lie heavily on his majesty's heart. It lay heavily
+on Walter's heart, too; but that did not prevent Walter from admiring
+this peculiarity of the king. In Africa he would do the same thing.
+
+No, away with Africa!
+
+He threw off his left stocking so violently that it curled around
+the leg of the chair like a dying earthworm.
+
+What strange things he had heard of Princess Erika! It was said that
+she was to have married a grand-duke, but rejected him.
+
+The middle classes were delighted with this news; though not knowing
+but that it might merely have been stubbornness on the part of the
+princess.
+
+She was of such a strange nature that she did not know how to behave
+herself in her high position.
+
+Walter slipped off his other stocking, finding fault with the princess
+for disregarding the usual customs and conventions. Hm! He wondered
+if she would like to change places with him, and let him be Prince
+Erich--and she----
+
+He wondered if she too wore an ugly nightcap. But--no! Princesses
+would wear caps of diamonds.
+
+Princess Erika!
+
+Walter blew out the light--no, he was on the point of blowing it
+out. He had selected one of the triangles that Laurens had described
+in the bed, when suddenly he became aware of a great tumult in the
+Pieterse home.
+
+Yes, somebody had rung violently three or four times and was still
+banging at the door. Fire?
+
+Hm! Could it be Princess Erika, he thought, who was coming to change
+places with him?
+
+Alas, it was only Juffrouw Laps; and she did not come to exchange.
+
+Well, what did she want then, so late in the evening?
+
+Walter pulled himself together and listened.
+
+The compartment where Walter and Laurens slept was a boxed-up
+arrangement over the sitting-room. Two of their sisters shared the
+space with them. From considerations of modesty, therefore, the boys
+always had to get sleepy a quarter of an hour before the young ladies.
+
+The writer is unable to say how much oxygen four young people need
+during eight hours without suffocating; but anyway there wasn't much
+room in this little nook.
+
+In another closet-affair there was a similar division, and here, too,
+the hour for retiring was determined by similar laws of modesty.
+
+The reader will now understand why a part of the family, the female
+part of course, was still in the sitting-room when Walter imagined
+that Princess Erika had come to exchange places with him.
+
+Juffrouw Laps, who had rushed up the steps like a crazy woman, burst
+into the room weeping and moaning and sobbing.
+
+The usual cries of, "What on earth is the matter?" "Lord 'a'
+mercy--what has happened?" were forthcoming. Walter noticed, too, that
+the customary glass of water was offered and drunk, and that proper
+efforts were being made to get the unhappy one to "calm herself."
+
+Juffrouw Laps began her story with the positive assurance that it
+was impossible for her to utter a word.
+
+It seemed, therefore, that the affair was something important. Walter
+pulled on one of his stockings and prepared to listen.
+
+"I swear, Juffrouw Pieterse, by the omnipotent God, that I'm so
+frightened and excited that I can't talk."
+
+"Goodness!"
+
+"Where are your children? In bed? Not all of them, I hope. Really,
+I can't speak. Give me another glass of water, Trudie. Listen, how
+my teeth are chattering. That comes from fright, doesn't it? I'm in
+a tremble all over. Thank you, Trudie. Where's--Stoffel?"
+
+"He's undressing," said Juffrouw Pieterse. "He goes to bed before
+me and Pietro. Mina makes so much noise, you know; and Trudie must
+stay with the boys to keep them from fighting. That's why I sleep
+with Pietro, you see. Stoffel undresses himself, and then he draws
+the curtain when he hears us on the steps. But why----"
+
+"How that concerns me, you mean? To be sure. I'm just beside myself
+from fright! And is--Laurens in bed too?"
+
+"Of course! A long time already. He has to go to the printing-house
+early."
+
+"All in bed! And I--I run through the streets, wretched, crazy,
+and don't know what to do. Is everybody in bed?--everybody?"
+
+"But what has happened?"
+
+"I'm going to tell you, Juffrouw Pieterse. Oh, if you only knew how
+frightened I am!"
+
+Consideration of acoustics now led Walter to put on his other stocking.
+
+"You know, Juffrouw Pieterse, that of late so much stealing has been
+going on."
+
+"Yes, but----"
+
+"And burglary and murder! And the police can't catch anybody. You know
+the old woman and the servant-girl who were murdered in Lommer Street."
+
+"But three are already behind the bars for it. What more do you want?"
+
+"That's all right; the murderers are running around scot-free. They've
+locked up three fellows just to keep the people from thinking too
+much. They don't want anybody to ask, 'What are the police for?' You
+see what I mean? I tell you that such a low-down rascal, who commits
+a murder and steals lots of money, cannot hide his bloody clothes;
+nor the money, either. He's not used to having so much money. All
+the neighbors know his coat and breeches; and such a man hasn't any
+trunk where he can hide his things. He doesn't know how to manage with
+drafts and notes; and he don't know enough to get away to a foreign
+country. As for friends to help him get rid of the stolen things,
+he hasn't any. I tell you, Juffrouw Pieterse, a murder or a robbery,
+when they don't catch the murderer right away--then some respectable
+person has done it, who has more clothes and boxes and presses and
+linen--and he has friends among bankers. A common fellow would stick
+a hundred thousand florins in the bread-box, and the children would
+find it when they went to slip a slice of bread and butter. What do
+you say, Trudie?"
+
+Trudie was not versed in criminal statistics and had never reflected
+on the matter. At least Walter heard no answer. Curiosity compelled
+him to draw on his trousers.
+
+"But," he heard his mother saying again, "what has happened to you?"
+
+"What has happened? I am beside myself. Don't you see how I'm
+trembling? The city is full of murderers!"
+
+"My goodness! How can I help it?"
+
+"You can't. But I am beside myself, and I want to ask your advice. Do
+they all go to bed so early?--Stoffel--and Laurens--all of them? Look,
+how I'm shaking. Do you suppose I dare go back to my room?"
+
+"Why not? Do you think you're going to be murdered?"
+
+"Yes. I do think it! The murderers of that old woman and of the
+servant-girl are still on the war-path. Yesterday at the illumination
+how many watches did they steal? And the police--what do they
+do? Nothing, nothing! Yes, they watch you to see if you beat a rug
+in the morning after ten o'clock. That's what the police do. They
+don't bother murderers."
+
+"What do you know about the murderers? It's your duty to report them
+if you know them."
+
+Walter put on his vest and wrapped his muffler around his neck.
+
+"What I know about them! They are besieging me in my own house. Isn't
+that pretty rough? I went out at noon to see the boat race on the
+Amstel; but there was nothing to see, because there was no wind. And
+such a crowd! All the kings were there, and the visiting princes
+and princesses, you know; and everybody stared at the carriages,
+and I did too. Not that I care anything about a king. Goodness,
+no! For he is only a worm in God's hand, and when the Master doesn't
+aid him--all is vanity, vanity. Dust and ashes--that's all. But I
+looked at the carriages, you know, and at the horses, and at the
+staring crowd. I thought to myself, I will fry the potatoes when I
+go home. They had been left over from dinner; and when there are any
+potatoes left over, you know, I always fry them for supper. There was
+a big crowd, and all were mad because there was no wind; for people
+are foolish about pleasure and never think of the Master. Worldly,
+worldly, they were--and the princes and princesses. I thought, well,
+it's no wonder that there's so much robbery and murder; for they try
+God's patience. I thought, God will punish you; He's only abiding
+His time. He always does it, Juffrouw Pieterse! A lady--the creature
+had red pimples on her face, and was older than you--what do you
+suppose she had on her head? A turban! She rode in a carriage with
+four horses. What do you think of that? She was playing with a fan;
+and, when a prince rode up to her carriage, she stuck out her hand
+and let the fan go up and down three times. And the prince did that
+way three times. Were they crazy, or not? What will the Master say
+to that? If He only doesn't send a pestilence on us!"
+
+"Yes, but the murderers--what did they do to you?"
+
+"Why, certainly--what they did? I am going to tell you. I'm still
+trembling. I had sliced my potatoes, put them on a saucer and set
+them away in the cupboard. Then I thought, I will fry them when I come
+home; for I didn't expect to stay long in the crowd, for I have been
+saved by grace and don't care for worldly things--ah, dear Juffrouw
+Pieterse, you must call Stoffel, so he can hear what has happened."
+
+Stoffel was already on his way down; and Walter was glad of it. Walter
+had heard the noise Stoffel was making putting on his clothes in the
+adjoining booth, and upon this he builded hopes that he too might
+be allowed to go down, where he could hear the exciting story better
+than was possible through the cracks in the floor. In the meantime he
+had completely dressed himself. The noises below told him of Stoffel's
+arrival in the sitting-room. He heard the usual greetings and Juffrouw
+Laps's solemn assurance that she was still in such a tremble that
+she couldn't say a word. Then he heard her ask immediately where
+Laurens was.
+
+Laurens? Well, he was asleep.
+
+That youth's absence seemed to trouble the visitor. She couldn't
+proceed. Was it really necessary for Laurens to be present?
+
+"What do you say, Stoffel? Isn't the city full of thieves and
+murderers?"
+
+Stoffel drew in his upper lip and tried to make the lower one touch
+his nose. Let the reader try the same; then he will know how Stoffel
+answered, and what his answer meant.
+
+Juffrouw Laps pretended to believe that he had said "yes."
+
+"Don't you see, Stoffel says so too! The city is full of thieves and
+murderers, and--a respectable person is afraid to go to bed alone
+any more. It's just that way."
+
+"But--Juffrouw!"
+
+"The police? Nonsense! What good do the police do, when people
+don't believe in God? That's the truth. Whoever doesn't do that is
+lost. Human help--I cannot understand at all why Laurens goes to bed so
+early. You surely know that so much sleep isn't good for anybody. What
+does the Bible say? Watch and pray! But--everyone according to his
+notion. I swear before God that I don't dare to go home alone and----"
+
+Walter's curiosity was at high tension. In order to hear better he
+was leaning over, supporting himself with the chair. The point of
+support was unsteady. The chair slipped and rattled across the floor,
+crashing into another piece of furniture.
+
+"Heaven and earth! What are they up to now," groaned the
+mother. "Laurens, is that you?"
+
+Walter peeped in, "It was me." The result was that he was soon in the
+midst of the interesting conversation that he had been trying to hear
+from above.
+
+His entrance took place under unfavorable circumstances. He was blamed
+for not having been undressed.
+
+"Do you always put on your nightcap before you undress?" cried
+the mother.
+
+The boy had actually forgotten to take off his nightcap. He was so
+ashamed that he felt he would like to fall through the floor. He
+would rather have neglected anything else.
+
+"And--what have you there?"
+
+Alas, our hero looked more ridiculous than anyone could look by simply
+putting on a nightcap. He had armed himself with an old rusty knife
+that his father had used in prehistoric times for cutting leather!
+
+During the whole of the Laps recital, which progressed so slowly,
+he had thought and hoped and intended--yes, he heard something that
+sounded like, "Where is Walter?" The speaker really did not say it--no,
+on the contrary, those were the very words she wished to avoid--still,
+he thought he heard her say them. On this Friday he had acted mean
+and cowardly; but he was still Walter.
+
+Murderers? Thieves? A lady in danger? What other answer could there
+be but: "I am here, I, Walter!"
+
+Oh, fate, why did you put that sword in his hand and let him forget
+to remove that nightcap? Why didn't you divide these two absurdities
+between Stoffel and Walter! Or why couldn't you put that feathery
+diadem on the head of the sleeping Laurens? It would have been all
+the same to him how he looked in his sleep.
+
+Walter was in a rage.
+
+And I am, too. Towards Femke his chivalry had remained in the
+background; and now it must burst forth at a doubtful call from
+Juffrouw Laps!
+
+In his anger he threw the weapon down violently and allowed it to
+rebound across the room. He slapped the nightcap on the table.
+
+No one would have thought that the little man could be so vehement. His
+mother, with her usual solicitousness, inquired into the condition
+of his mind, asking if he was only cracked, or downright crazy.
+
+"I tell you," said the visitor, "you ought not to worry that child
+so much."
+
+"Go to bed at once!" cried the mother.
+
+"Why can't you let the child stay here? But--oh, yes! I was going to
+tell you about my potatoes."
+
+Walter stayed. For this privilege he was indebted to the general
+curiosity.
+
+"Just imagine, when I came home about half past ten o'clock--I couldn't
+get away earlier on account of the crush, you know. Don't you know,
+I don't care for these big occasions. Well, when I got home--the city
+is full of thieves, murderers, and that must not be forgotten--well,
+my potatoes were--what do you think my potatoes were? They were--gone!"
+
+"Gone?"
+
+"Gone!"
+
+"All gone?"
+
+"All gone!"
+
+"Your potatoes--gone?"
+
+"My potatoes--all completely gone!"
+
+"But----"
+
+"I tell you those thieves and murderers did it. Who else could have
+done it? Thieves and murderers in my house! And I wanted to ask
+you--for I'm afraid in my room----"
+
+Walter's eyes fairly shone.
+
+"I wanted to ask, if perhaps--your son Stoffel----"
+
+Stoffel's face was a study, a curiosity. If the said thieves and
+murderers could have seen it they would have been greatly pleased,
+for it bore evidence of Stoffel's intention to leave them undisturbed
+in their work.
+
+"But, Juffrouw," he said, "haven't you a cat in your room?"
+
+"A cat? A cat to fight murderers with!"
+
+"No, Juffrouw, not to fight murderers; but a cat that might have
+eaten the potatoes."
+
+"I don't know anything about a cat. I only know that the city is
+full of low-down people when so many murders are committed and no one
+tries to catch the murderers. Not that I am anxious about my life--no,
+not at all. When the Master calls me I shall say, 'Let thy daughter
+go in peace; my eyes have seen thy glory.'"
+
+"But, woman, why didn't you look in your closet, and under the bed?"
+
+"I didn't want to do that, Juffrouw Pieterse! The Lord will take care
+of me--but one must not try the Lord's patience. I would not go in the
+closet, or look under the bed--not for everything in the world! For of
+course he's there, and that's why I wanted to ask if your son--Stoffel,
+or, if Stoffel doesn't want to, if perhaps your son--Laurens, or----"
+
+"But, Juffrouw, why didn't you call the neighbors?"
+
+Thus spoke Stoffel.
+
+"The neighbors? Well, I guess they know about it. The man who lives
+under me is afraid of a poodle-dog, not to mention a murderer. There's
+a man living next to me; but, you know, he is--what shall I say--he
+is a sort of bachelor, and I don't want to get talked about. You
+know a woman must always think of her reputation, and not get mixed
+up in gossip."
+
+It did not occur to anyone to ask what sort of a creature Stoffel
+was. Was he a bachelor? Or did his position as a teacher protect him
+against any worldly suspicion?
+
+"And, besides," continued the seductive Laps, "do you think all
+men have courage? No! They're as afraid of a thief as they are of
+death. Last week an insolent beggar was on the steps, and the fellow
+wouldn't leave. Do you think the men did anything to him? Scared to
+death! But, I tell you, I got hold of him in a hurry and----"
+
+She had gone too far, and she saw it.
+
+"Well, I would have done that if I hadn't been a woman; for a woman
+must never use violence. It isn't becoming. What do you say, Trudie? I
+ran and shut my door. Wasn't that right? No, none of the men-folk
+has any courage!"
+
+None of the men-folk! Walter felt insulted. He was swelling with
+suppressed courage; he was eager for a fray. At least, he was eager to
+show that he was an exception to Juffrouw Laps's general indictment. Of
+course Juffrouw Laps noticed this.
+
+"Well, if Stoffel doesn't want to----"
+
+"To tell the truth, I----"
+
+"And if Laurens is already asleep--and if--if no one else will----"
+
+She arose.
+
+"Then I suppose I must, relying upon God, go alone. But it's horrible
+for a woman to be entirely alone!"
+
+She looked at them all in turn, all except the one she was talking
+to. Walter felt that he was being forgotten, or overlooked. This only
+increased his latent courage and made him burn with a desire to be
+numbered with the knighthood of the house.
+
+"Yes, if there's nobody here who's not afraid----"
+
+"I'm not afraid!"
+
+All but Juffrouw Laps were surprised. She was a good psychologist,
+and had not expected anything else. It was her part, however, to
+pretend to be as much surprised as any of the rest.
+
+"You?"
+
+"You, Walter?"
+
+"Boy, are you crazy? You?"
+
+"Yes, I. I'm not afraid; not if there were ten in the closet and a
+hundred under the bed!"
+
+A little Luther! But with a difference. Luther had a God in whom
+he felt he could trust--reinforced by a few grand-dukes. Walter,
+without any grand-dukes, was ready to enter the field against a God
+who was allowing any number of murderers to take shelter under the
+roof and bed of Juffrouw Laps.
+
+"Boy!"
+
+"I'll risk it."
+
+"Let him go, Juffrouw Pieterse. You understand--it's company for me
+to have such a child with me. Then I'm not frightened so badly, if a
+murderer is in the closet. Nobody wants to be entirely alone. Isn't
+that so?"
+
+Juffrouw Laps gained her point: Walter was permitted to go with her.
+
+It was principally their vanity that caused the Pieterses to consent
+so readily to Juffrouw Laps's request and allow her to take Walter
+away to act as her castellan. Not one of them felt that it was a
+good thing for Walter to go with the Juffrouw; but they were all
+proud of his courage. The story would get noised abroad, and people
+would pass it on to their friends. Juffrouw Pieterse would see to
+it that the people knew it was "the same young gentlemen, you know,
+that went home with Dr. Holsma."
+
+Yes, and then people would say: "There's something in those Pieterse
+children."
+
+Mothers like to hear such things.
+
+With his package under his arm Walter marched away with Juffrouw
+Laps to do battle for that pious lady. That prehistoric weapon he
+left behind, on her assuring him that she had a well-filled store
+of weapons and ammunition enough to kill all the murderers that he
+would have occasion to contend with.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+Walter shuddered as he crossed Juffrouw Laps's threshold. He reflected,
+and wondered how he could have entered upon this knightly expedition
+without considering certain details connected with it and inseparable
+from it.
+
+The first thing she offered him, of course, was the fried potatoes,
+that dainty dish which the murderers had greedily made away with!
+
+Walter was beginning to feel that the game wasn't worth the candle. The
+adventure didn't offer sufficient outlet for his chivalry. In fact,
+he thought something other than chivalry was necessary to face
+single-handed and alone those fried potatoes and Juffrouw Laps's
+persistent attentions.
+
+"Make yourself at home and eat all you want. Don't be a bit
+embarrassed. Or would you rather take off your coat first? You know,
+you're to stay all night with me."
+
+Walter preferred to keep on his coat for the present.
+
+"And I have a dram for you, too, my boy--something extra. It's
+from Fockink's. You know where he has his distillery, there in that
+narrow street. You must never pass along there. Bad women live in
+that street. They stand at the doors and windows, don't you know;
+and that isn't good for a bachelor like you."
+
+Walter, the "bachelor," looked surprised. He was abashed; though he
+was not displeased. This promotion was more flattering than going into
+"business."
+
+Still, he was embarrassed. Juffrouw Laps found it desirable, therefore,
+to continue along this line.
+
+"Certainly, Walter, you're a bachelor. Don't you know that? It's only
+because at home they treat you like a child. I tell you, you're a
+bachelor, just as much so as anybody else. Do you think I like Stoffel
+as well as I do you? No, no, no! Not a bit of it! I like you lots
+better. Don't you want a pipe to smoke? You are man enough for that. Of
+course you are; and why shouldn't you smoke a pipe like other men?"
+
+Men, men!
+
+Walter answered that he couldn't smoke yet. It cost him an effort to
+make the admission; but his first attempt to equal Stoffel in that
+respect had turned out badly.
+
+"So? You don't smoke?" She omitted his "yet."
+
+"Well, it's a good thing. It's a stupid habit in men. And forever the
+terrible smoke! I know other young gentlemen who do not smoke. For
+instance, there is Piet Hammel. He's as old as you, but a little
+smaller. He's going to marry a cousin of mine; and he doesn't smoke
+either."
+
+Walter felt better now. He was interested.
+
+"Yes, they're going to get married about--well, I don't know exactly
+when. But they intend to marry. I tell you, you are a real bachelor;
+and it's awfully stupid of them still to treat you like a child. I've
+told your mother so a hundred times. There on the street just now,
+when we were together--I'm a delicate woman; but do you think I
+was afraid?--with you with me? Not a bit. Not a trace of fear. And
+why? Because everybody could see that I had a man with me. I ought
+to have taken hold of your arm--you're almost taller than I am--but
+I didn't do it because you had a package. And then--the people talk
+so much! The watchman might have seen it, and he would have spread
+the news broadcast that I had been seen at night with a gentleman."
+
+With a gentleman! Walter was listening.
+
+"A woman must always think of her reputation. But we're here at home
+now, and that's very different, entirely different. I know that of
+course you wouldn't tell anything bad about me. Whoever tells anything
+bad on a woman isn't a true gentleman. You know that."
+
+Yes, Walter knew it. He understood Juffrouw Laps better than she
+imagined.
+
+"What I wanted to say was, you must never go through that street. So
+long as you were a child, it made no difference. But now! Let me fill
+your glass for you."
+
+Walter drank.
+
+O Fancy, my muse, where art thou?
+
+"How do you like it?"
+
+Walter owned that the liquor had a pleasant taste.
+
+Satan's handmaid filled the glasses again. They were "so small,"
+really "mere thimbles."
+
+"And you must eat something, dearest. Oh, I have always thought so
+much of you! It's good for you to have a little dram like that."
+
+Walter began to eat.
+
+"Just take off your coat; there's nobody here but us."
+
+Quite so. Walter did take off his coat.
+
+"And I'm going to sit close to you, for you are a dear, good,
+sweet boy."
+
+Fancy, Fancy!
+
+The liquor was strong, and Walter drank more of it than was good
+for him. He lost some of his modesty, and hardly knew what he was
+saying to the talkative Juffrouw, as she asked questions from time
+to time. She was not quite satisfied with the way things were going,
+but hoped for the best.
+
+Occasionally Walter found time to wonder why he was there, what the
+purpose of the enforced visit might be. His hostess seemed to have
+forgotten all about those thieves and murderers; and when he reminded
+her of them, she showed a spirit of valor that did him good. For he
+and his valor were undone.
+
+"I will do them! Do you think I'm afraid of such a fellow? Well,
+I guess not. Not afraid of three of them. I wouldn't be afraid of
+ten of them--I'm not afraid of the whole world. I will do them."
+
+All the better, thought Walter; for then he wouldn't have to "do" them.
+
+They now heard something rustling around in the closet, or else they
+imagined they heard something. Walter was frightened. He was a perfect
+child again.
+
+"Stay here, and I will see what it is," cried the Juffrouw. "Do
+you think I would let them beat you, or stab you, or murder you,
+my boy! Never! Whoever touches you will have to walk over me. But I
+will give them all they need."
+
+She went out, taking the light with her, to see what was the matter--if
+anything. She was careful to leave Walter in the dark long enough for
+him to wish for her return. The tables were being turned. A little
+more, and the boy would seek protection under her apron.
+
+"But, Juffrouw----"
+
+"I will let you call me Christine. That's my name."
+
+This was too much for Walter. He preferred to avoid addressing her
+directly.
+
+"But hadn't I better go home now?"
+
+"Not at all. You don't want to leave me, do you? You know your mother
+is in bed asleep now. Besides, it was understood that you were to
+spend the night here and take breakfast with me."
+
+Breakfast! The boy hadn't been doing anything else for an hour. Was
+that to continue till morning?
+
+"I'll tell you what! Just undress yourself; and you needn't be a bit
+ashamed before me. I will make down a pallet for you there in the
+corner. When I'm here alone--just a woman--with all the thieves and
+robbers--oh, it's so horrible!"
+
+Walter did not dare to say no; nor did he dare to do what was proposed
+so enticingly. He hesitated.
+
+She talked sweetly and persuaded him.
+
+He began to----
+
+The child was as if hypnotized.
+
+O Fancy, Fancy! Where art thou?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+It will be remembered that on this significant Friday a boat-race
+had been arranged for the amusement of the visiting princes and
+princesses. It had to be called off on account of a disinclination
+on the side of the wind to fill its part of the program, or rather,
+to fill the sails. For it was to have been a "sail." Rowing was not
+in style then; it was not considered dignified and manly. Besides,
+the boats were not built to be propelled in this way.
+
+The boat-race had been canceled; but the crowd remained, and continued
+to discharge its enthusiasm for royalty till a late hour. It was a
+great day; and the populace perspired and shouted and howled.
+
+It was so hot that kings and princesses perspired like ordinary
+mortals. They flourished fans indolently. At that time there was a
+special kind of fan: "joujoux de Normandie."
+
+It was observed that the old countess-palatine manipulated her fan more
+elegantly than anyone else. No doubt it was through this "gentle art"
+that she exerted her greatest influence on humanity.
+
+Gradually the carriages of the distinguished guests disappeared,
+and the knightly horsemen tired of the saddle. The day drew to a
+close. The populace pushed and crowded and sang and hurrahed and
+drank. Fireworks were discharged, to express, so the newspapers said,
+the inexpressible love of the people for princes and princesses.
+
+Oh, those firecrackers, and the danger in them! Quick, quick--throw
+it--a second longer and it will burst in your hand--hurrah!
+
+It was magnificent--the danger and thrilling anxiety. There was
+a tradition that somebody had once held a firecracker in his hand
+too long and had been badly hurt by it. This traditional "somebody"
+was now inspiring the revelers with fresh enthusiasm.
+
+So it was on that evening, before the city authorities had prohibited
+the use of fireworks. After the houses had been covered with slate,
+it was thought that there was too much danger of fire in firecrackers,
+but on that evening, when the houses still had thatch roofs, the
+dangerous pleasure of Amsterdam youth was unrestrained.
+
+And the other dangerous pleasures! How many lasses went home with their
+skirts singed, some of them hardly getting home at all. Interesting
+adventures! And a boy--"those boys have to have their noses in
+everything"--yes, a youth came very near getting a load in his
+face. Thrilling delight!
+
+The crowd was now in the street where Juffrouw Laps resided. The
+reader will recall that Walter was spending the night with her.
+
+Boom! went a gun, or a cannon-cracker; and Walter awoke just as his
+affectionate hostess and religious adviser was going to give him
+a kiss.
+
+Juffrouw Laps had burned her sinful lips. "Lord have mercy on us,
+what is that!" she cried.
+
+Both ran to the open window. Ordinarily a respectable Hollandish girl
+never leaves her window open at night; but the extreme heat of the
+evening must be urged in Juffrouw Laps's favor.
+
+It was clear to them at once that they had not been fired upon by
+those "murderers," for nobody paid any attention to them or showed any
+interest in them. Other windows were open, as well; and on all sides
+people were looking out. Right and left a cannonade of firecrackers
+was going on.
+
+In the interest of privacy Juffrouw Laps took the precaution to blow
+out the light as quickly as possible. Another might have neglected
+this.
+
+Walter looked down on it all with the delight of a child. He forgot
+the insistent kindness of his hostess; he thought of nothing but
+the crowd below and their antics. The noise and tumult sobered him;
+and it even had a quieting effect on Juffrouw Laps.
+
+"How foolish the people are. They push one another hither and thither
+and don't know themselves why they do it."
+
+"Click, click!" answered an enthusiast with a gun. He was in the
+midst of a bevy of girls, who scattered in an uproar.
+
+"They're all drunk," said Juffrouw Laps. "I wish they would go
+home. I'm tired--and it's two o'clock."
+
+"Just a little more!" begged Walter. "I'm not tired--not a bit!"
+
+"I'm afraid you're catching cold. For you know, the night air after
+a hot day--well, put on your cap, dearest. I wouldn't have this night
+air to give you a cold for everything in the world. Look, there goes
+another one." It was a Roman candle.
+
+
+    "Amour a la plus belle.
+    Honneur au plus vaillant----"
+
+
+"Why don't they sing Dutch? Do you understand any of it?"
+
+Walter knew something of the handsome Dunois, who slew so many Turks
+and received as his reward the daughter of the duke, his master. How
+would a knight be rewarded after he had already received one reward? Or
+how would it have been if the master had had no daughter?
+
+While Walter was asking his lady friend such difficult questions as
+these, they heard an outburst of cries and abuse and oaths below. A
+reaction had set in. It was a perfect riot. The crowd swayed first
+one way then the other, according as one party or the other was in
+the ascendency.
+
+Non-combatants were pushing their way out; combatants, themselves
+crowded, were crowding others. Cries of "help" were heard. Mothers,
+with babies in their arms, attested their fear; women in delicate
+health made their condition known.
+
+The press was worst on the corner, whither the revelers were streaming
+from three directions. Here was located a popular restaurant and
+drinking-place, which was probably the destination of the stream coming
+from Amstel Street. The second stream, coming from Utrecht Street,
+evidently had the same objective in view. The strongest current
+was flowing from the belligerent group, which was now squeezed into
+close quarters.
+
+From his recent experience Walter knew what it meant to be in such a
+mob. Whoever fell was walked over. But it really wasn't so bad as that:
+to fall was impossible. The danger was in being crowded off the street
+into basements, where limbs and necks might be easily broken. In this
+respect there was more danger than there had been the evening before
+in Kalver Street.
+
+"Christian souls!" cried Juffrouw Laps. "I'm getting right sick at
+the stomach."
+
+Walter's condition was about the same. All at once he seized her
+arm. He thought that he saw somebody--somebody who looked like----
+
+"That's right, dear. Hold fast to me. It's simply death and murder!"
+
+Walter did not say anything.
+
+"Isn't it enough to run anybody crazy?" continued the dear
+Juffrouw. "Hold fast to me, and remember that I am your Christine."
+
+He was remembering something else.
+
+"Don't be afraid--Lord, that child's beside himself--nobody shall
+hurt you. I will take care of you."
+
+He held on to her arm all the tighter; otherwise he was as if turned
+to stone.
+
+"I wouldn't pay any attention to it, sweetheart. But--it is bad
+enough. Do you see that girl there with the North Holland cap on? I
+wouldn't like to be in her place."
+
+"It is--Femke! O God, it is Femke!"
+
+Shaking off Juffrouw Laps, who attempted to hold him back, he rushed
+down the steps and in a few minutes was in the thickest of the fray.
+
+He fought his way through the crowd like a mad-man, soon reaching the
+point where he had seen Femke. She, however, had disappeared. A man
+with flashy cap and sailor's jacket, who from above had looked like
+her escort, was still contending with the crowd. It seemed as if the
+two had come arm in arm through Amstel Street.
+
+"Is there a girl here with a North Holland cap on?"
+
+The man was too busy fighting and wrestling for standing-room to make
+answer. Meanwhile, Walter noticed that the fellow was struggling
+toward the "Herberge," and concluded that his lady must have taken
+refuge there.
+
+Walter paid no more attention to the punches and blows he received. He
+was only concerned to give as many blows as were necessary to hasten
+his arrival at the restaurant. The place was about as badly crowded
+as the street, but there was no fighting going on.
+
+Yes, Walter had made a good beginning: yesterday in the "Polish
+Coffeehouse," to-day in the "Juniper Berry"--thrown in there, fighting
+his way in here.
+
+He was in the restaurant at last, looking for Femke. Now he thought
+that he had discovered her, standing on a step, or something of the
+kind. With lips tightly closed, her arms crossed, the girl was looking
+quietly down on the multitude as if in silent contempt. The rim was
+torn from her cap and was hanging down. Walter thought that he even
+saw blood on her face--Femke's dear face!
+
+He was exhausted and could not reach her. He looked at her. She did
+not see him.
+
+She stood there proud and haughty. He called to her. She did not hear.
+
+"O God! she despises me. I deserve it for my cowardice at Holsma's."
+
+"Boy," said the woman behind the bar, "we don't have any bellowing
+here. If you want to bellow go to your mother."
+
+Easier said than done. He couldn't move a peg, such was the press. He
+was shoved against the counter; and it was impossible for him to keep
+sight of Femke. The tears began to roll down his cheeks.
+
+"What are you doing in such a crowd anyway?" continued the woman,
+"when you're so weak. You look as flimsy as a dish-rag. What have
+you been doing? Let me give you a glass of cognac."
+
+He would have been only too glad to pay for his place; but, as he
+"received at home everything that he needed," he did not have
+the wherewithal. Still, there was no danger of his being thrown
+out. The crowd, which was threatening to expend its remaining
+energy in destroying the liquids of the place, was now occupying the
+barmaid's attention. I should say Mrs. Goremest's attention. She was
+the proprietress.
+
+The girl continued to hold her position of advantage. There was
+something scornful in her features. "Who dares!" she seemed to say.
+
+Walter was feeling bad. She looked over in his direction, but without
+seeing him. He called; but she did not hear.
+
+Then the fellow with the flashy cap and sailor jacket appeared in the
+door. He had not been one of the belligerents; but he had suffered
+the fate of neutral powers. As his clothing testified, both parties
+had been his enemies.
+
+So intent was the fellow on getting in that he did not even take time
+to return the shoves and cuffs that he received. Twice, three times
+he was crowded back; for where so many want the same thing, it isn't
+easy to obtain. Nevertheless, he had one advantage over the others,
+who sought only a resting-place and a glass of liquor. He was incited
+by something else.
+
+Walter hoped with all his heart that the fellow would succeed in
+reaching Femke. She looked so lonely in the midst of that wild mob. If
+he had been stronger, he would have--but she wouldn't have anything to
+do with him. Wouldn't she push him off, just as she did the insolent
+fellow who first caught hold of her apron?
+
+The girl seemed now to spy the sailor. She nodded to him and smiled,
+as if to encourage him. Or was she thanking him for his fidelity? Her
+smile bore the message that she was uninjured, and fearless. Yes,
+she stood there a statute of repose.
+
+The sailor nodded back.
+
+He would never have denied her, Walter thought.
+
+Mrs. Goremest happened to see the new arrival; and, from the way she
+greeted him, he seemed to be a frequent visitor to her place:
+
+"Hello, Klaas. Are you there too? You're out of breath, aren't you?"
+
+She gave orders to let him through, and even came out a few steps
+and helped open up the way for him.
+
+Thus it happened that Klaas Verlaan found standing-room at the counter
+not far from Walter.
+
+"Well, they've made the most of you!"
+
+He saw it the same way. He was never certain of a moment's recreation
+before bedtime. Walter, as well as the girl who still maintained her
+elevated position in the corner, agreed with the bar-woman's verdict.
+
+"Had a good day?" continued the woman. "It was bad about the
+boat-race."
+
+Klaas placed his finger on his mouth, as if he were going to tell
+her a secret. He wanted to tell of an adventure with Princess Erika.
+
+"A glass of corn?" translated the bar-woman, but without guessing
+the right thing.
+
+"Half and half?"
+
+"Nor that either."
+
+"Red?"
+
+This time Klaas was particularly dainty and hard to please. He declined
+regularly whatever she suggested and continued to exert himself to
+draw her into a more confidential talk. He had had the pleasure of
+pulling Princess Erika out of the water.
+
+On the outside they were still singing, "Amour a la plus belle."
+
+"The devil take those Welsh songs!" cried one of the drinkers. "We
+are Dutchmen forever!"
+
+"Yes, we are Dutchman forever----"
+
+"And our prince----"
+
+"Sh!"
+
+"I will sing what I please; and, if anybody doesn't want to sing"--he
+struck himself on the chest, and the whole party was Dutch and
+enthusiastic over royalty. "Our Prince" was sung lustily, and to
+a finish.
+
+"Hurrah!"
+
+"Yes, when we were still true Dutchmen----"
+
+"Yes, when we were still true Dutchmen----"
+
+"And under the republic!"
+
+"Long live the republic!"
+
+"You all ought to have seen a yacht-race then."
+
+"And our prince----"
+
+"Under the republic all men were equal."
+
+"Equal. No difference at all."
+
+"Down with the tyrants!"
+
+"They're not a bit better than we are!"
+
+"They suck the life out of the people."
+
+"Yes, they bleed us."
+
+"And why? Because you're all cowardly dogs."
+
+"Yes, they're all cowardly dogs."
+
+"You put your necks under the yoke."
+
+"Whenever a king comes around, or an emperor, or a prince, then all
+of you are so frightened you tremble like an aspen leaf."
+
+"Yes, like an aspen leaf!"
+
+"If you fellows were----"
+
+"All men are born free."
+
+"Yes, we were born free and equal."
+
+"And true Dutch hearts--what say you, Mrs. Goremest? What do you think,
+that's a daughter of M'neer----"
+
+The name died on the speaker's lips. He became pale.
+
+"A daughter of M'neer----!"
+
+"Certainly. Ask Verlaan."
+
+Verlaan nodded.
+
+"Is that so, Klaas? Really and truly? Why then does she stand there
+dressed that way--like an ordinary girl?"
+
+"Oh, those clothes came from my Gertie, you know. Rich people have----"
+
+"Come, boys, we must go home now. Mother Goremest needs sleep,
+too. We are not made of iron; we are flesh and blood."
+
+"Down with the tyrants! We were born free. True Dutch hearts----"
+
+"Sh! The young lady----"
+
+"What? That girl? What then?"
+
+"Sh! The daughter of--but don't say a word. Damme if it isn't so--the
+daughter of M'neer--Kopperlith!"
+
+"Kopperlith on Keizersgracht? What are you talking about,
+man! Kopperlith--on Keizersgracht!"
+
+"Yes, of course. Come, we're going."
+
+"His daughter? His----natural daughter?"
+
+"That's right. You understand it now; but keep quiet about it."
+
+The true Dutch hearts and republicans paid and left the bar.
+
+It was a sudden whim of Klaas Verlaan's to make his ward a child of
+Keizersgracht; but it brought him in more ducats than he cared to
+admit afterward.
+
+Kopperlith? Kopperlith? on Keizersgracht? Femke on Keizersgracht! And
+on the day after to-morrow he was to begin work for this wealthy
+gentleman.
+
+His head swam. Was he still Walter Pieterse? He doubted it. Before
+he had quite come to himself, he was forced through the door with
+other late stragglers. It was time for Mrs. Goremest to close.
+
+The street was comparatively quiet now. Walter remained near the
+"Herberge," which to him was a sort of temple where his Goddess was
+being worshiped. Now and then somebody else was pitched out the door,
+who would have been glad to stay longer. It was not every day that
+one got an opportunity to see a daughter of M'neer Kopperlith. Some
+wanted to join the triumvirate of Verlaan, the republican speaker,
+and Mrs. Goremest; but the three felt themselves strong enough to do
+the work and share the rewards.
+
+At last the outflow ceased, and Walter was just going to peep through
+the curtains of the glass door, when the door opened again and the
+republican emerged. Walter heard Klaas call to him:
+
+"There on the corner in Paarden Street, you know. If it costs a dollar
+more, that's all right. Tell the cabby----"
+
+Walter understood. The republican was to get a cab--for Femke?
+
+Walter waited. In the meanwhile, Mrs. Goremest had locked the door and
+drawn the curtains, so that it was impossible for him to look in now.
+
+In a short time a carriage drove up, and the republican sprang out
+of it. The door of Mrs. Goremest's establishment opened again, and
+Klaas Verlaan with the ostensible daughter of Kopperlith appeared.
+
+"Femke, I am here!" Walter cried, hurrying to her. "I am here. Oh,
+Femke, don't go with the strange men!"
+
+"What in the devil are you doing here again!" snorted Verlaan, seizing
+Walter by the collar to pull him back into the restaurant. "What do
+you want? And who are you?"
+
+"Femke, don't go with the strange men. I will take you home, I,
+Walter."
+
+"The boy is weak in the upper story," affirmed Mrs. Goremest. "He's
+been bellowing around her the whole evening like a calf, and he hasn't
+spent a doit."
+
+Walter reached for Femke's hand; and then he noticed how curiously
+she was rigged out. She was completely covered. Of her head,
+face, shoulders, figure--nothing was to be seen. Mrs. Goremest
+had contributed her cloak; but what would one not do for a
+Kopperlith? Still, she was saving: Only the stump of one tallow
+candle was burning. It flickered strangely, giving to everything a
+ghostly appearance.
+
+"Is it you, Erich?" the girl asked.
+
+"Femke, Femke, for God's sake, don't go with those strange men!"
+
+Tearing himself away from Verlaan, he threw himself at Femke's feet. He
+pulled aside her cloak and covered her hand with tears and kisses.
+
+"Just like I tell you," declared Mrs. Goremest. "The boy is as crazy
+as a bedbug."
+
+"Femke, I will never deny you again. Strike me, tread on me, kill me,
+but--don't go with those strange men."
+
+"Light!" cried the girl peremptorily--a word that even a Dutchman
+understands.
+
+The republican took the candle from the counter and held it so that
+the light fell on Walter's face. The boy was still kneeling. Through
+an opening in her hood the girl looked down on him and was silent. She
+did not withdraw the hand that Walter held closely pressed to his lips.
+
+Verlaan made a motion as if to remove the intruder; but the girl
+stopped him with a look. Then she laid her free hand on Walter's head,
+saying simply:
+
+"My brother!"
+
+"Another descendant of Kopperlith!" growled the republican. The young
+people have strange ideas about how to spend the night."
+
+When Walter came to his senses, he was in the street again. The
+carriage had driven away--whether with her, or without her; whether
+with the two men, or without them--that he did not know. It made
+no difference to him: she had called him "brother," seriously,
+solemnly. She had spoken clearly and distinctly.
+
+"O God! I thank thee. Thou art kind and compassionate. I didn't
+know that Femke could speak like that. She must have felt it down in
+her heart."
+
+To-morrow, he thought, he would become immensely wealthy--in
+"business"--and, of course, he was going to be a king again, and
+still more: For Femke he would be more than a brother! Juffrouw Laps
+had awakened in him--well, something, he did not know himself what it
+was. His heart rejoiced; he walked upon stilts, as tired as he was,
+and wondered that his head did not bump against the clouds.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+For anyone in Walter's present mood, there are only two things in
+the world; self, and--nothingness!
+
+Walter looked about him. "Butter Market," he read on a sign. He noticed
+that in the street socks could be bought, wagons hired, etc., etc.
+
+But what did it all mean? Nothing. He had kissed Femke's hand!
+
+It is too bad that the world did not sink out of existence on that
+summer night.
+
+If Walter had noticed such an occurrence, he might have asked if
+Femke was hurt; otherwise the phenomenon would not have disturbed him.
+
+The reader will understand, of course, that on this eventful night
+the world did not go down.
+
+Walter forgave the sun for rising. He even excused the Butter Market
+for being such a hot place; but it was difficult for him to convince
+himself that it was not all a dream.
+
+A new feeling took possession of him. His ambitious plans of a material
+nature receded into the background of consciousness. His one desire
+now was to love Femke--and win her love. Those continents that were
+expecting salvation from him might wait.
+
+He thought of Femke and her soft hand. Never had her hand felt like
+that. Formerly it had seemed harder and rougher; but, of course,
+he had just been mistaken about it. He imagined, too, that hitherto
+he had not marked her voice well, nor her carriage. Surely, he had
+never seen the true Femke till to-night--better, this morning.
+
+But--Klaas Verlaan and his rough companions! What did all that
+gab about M'neer Kopperlith mean? There were other questions too;
+but--Femke had called him brother; and that was one thing which with
+him was as firm as the rock of Gibraltar.
+
+Brooding thus, he slipped along through the streets. Weak and tired,
+he came to the "Dam." Here he saw a long row of carriages. The
+coachmen sat in their places waiting for the princely guests, who
+had wanted to see a Holland sunrise. The sun was already in sight;
+but there were no princes and princesses to see him. A few laborers
+were looking on indifferently.
+
+Yesterday Walter would have exerted himself to see a live, fullgrown
+king, just to find out if he looked like Macbeth, or Arthur, or
+Lear. To-day he was so tired that kings did not interest him.
+
+He was just starting on, when the coachmen suddenly assumed a rigid
+attitude. A boy remarked that "they" were coming now. He was right:
+they did come; and all, except one old lady, drove away so rapidly that
+scarcely anyone saw them. She touched her coachman on the shoulder.
+
+"She has forgotten something," said the boy.
+
+Three or four cavaliers stormed back into the palace and brought her
+fan. While they were gone, the boys wondered at the pimples on her
+face. Walter's  pictures had had nothing of that kind. How different
+Femke's face was!
+
+Walter trudged along further; and, without thinking of where he was
+going, he came to the meadow where Femke and her mother dried their
+clothes. He sat down on the grass, intending to wait for the first
+signs of life in Femke's home. He was not certain that she was there;
+he did not know but that she might still be at Holsma's; but there
+would be somebody there.
+
+Overcome by weariness he lay down and gradually fell asleep. His cap
+came off, rolled down into the ditch and disappeared in the mud.
+
+If anyone passed by, he remarked that there lay a drunken fellow. Yes,
+youth begins early. Possibly the fellow was sick; but then the police
+would take care of him. Nobody hurt him; nobody touched him. His
+dreams were undisturbed.
+
+He dreamed of various things; but the principal object of his dreams
+was a young girl, who was standing on a platform playing ball with
+heavy men, as if that were nothing. Suddenly it was little Sietske
+Holsma.
+
+Then in his dreams he heard a voice:
+
+"Goodness, boy, how did you get here?"
+
+At first the voice was far away, then nearer, and finally quite
+near. He had the dim impression that somebody was pulling him up to
+a sitting posture.
+
+"Sietske!" he whispered, still sleeping.
+
+"Yes, that's my name. How did you know it?"
+
+"Sietske----!"
+
+"Why, certainly. Who told you? And what are you doing here. It isn't
+very respectable. Are you drunk? And so young, too."
+
+He called Sietske's name again.
+
+"You may call me by my first name, if you want to; but how does it
+come? Did Femke tell you? It's a real disgrace to lie here like a
+hog. What were you going to say?"
+
+Walter rubbed his eyes and felt of his head. "I would like to wash
+myself," he said, not yet wide awake.
+
+"All right," cried Mrs. Claus. "And you're not hurt, are you? Where
+is your cap?"
+
+"Wash--with cold water," Walter said.
+
+"Good! Come to the pump with me." She led him through the house and
+across the back yard.
+
+"You needn't be afraid to undress here; nobody can see you. But how
+did you happen to call me by my first name all at once. Not that I'm
+offended at all."
+
+Walter was still too much asleep to recall what had happened to him
+during the past few hours; so he only said that he had a headache
+and must wash himself first.
+
+Mrs. Claus, noticing that he was ashamed to undress, hung some quilts
+on the fence, thus converting the yard into a sort of room. It never
+occurred to her that her own presence might embarrass him. Walter
+was still not quite pleased with the outlook for a bath; but since
+yesterday he had been thinking of other things as strange.
+
+He began to strip, allowing Mrs. Claus to help him, just as if he
+had been fifteen years younger than he was. To Mrs. Claus he was only
+a child.
+
+She laid him on a bench under the spout and began to pump. At the first
+drops he shivered; then the water flooded his head and shoulders. He
+could neither see nor speak. His efforts to speak she interpreted as
+calls for more water.
+
+"Yes, this will be good for you." Her words were drowned by the
+splashing water.
+
+"You didn't hurt yourself, did you? Do you think that will be enough
+now? I've pumped till I've got a pain in my side. But if you think
+that----"
+
+She stopped all at once, but still held on to the pump handle, as if
+to show her willingness to continue.
+
+"I forgot entirely to"--she began pumping again--"wash you off with
+green soap. Femke always washes herself with it. It makes the skin
+nice and smooth.--You ought to see your back now. It shines like
+a looking-glass."
+
+Walter wanted to say something but couldn't.
+
+"Yes, and your forehead, too. It's the green soap that does it. I
+guess your mother never washes you with green soap, does she? Then
+one must scour and scrub and rub. But, if you are not used to soap----"
+
+She lifted that terrible pump handle again.
+
+"I believe this will be about enough," Walter blubbered. His mouth
+was so full of water that again Mrs. Claus did not understand him.
+
+"Green soap is good for corns, and for rheumatism." She was pumping
+away for dear life.
+
+Walter finally succeeded in rescuing himself and the bench from
+that destructive stream of water. He was now able to make his cries
+for mercy understood; but he was not yet able to get up. Besides,
+the good woman had hung his clothes out of his reach, and he was
+ashamed. He remained sitting.
+
+"Do you want anything else?" inquired the water nymph.
+
+"No, no, no!" he answered quickly. She was already lifting the
+pump-handle again. "But----"
+
+The simple, innocent woman did not understand; and, when he continued
+to sit there like a helpless lump of misery, she asked:
+
+"Do you have a pain anywhere?"
+
+"No, I haven't any pains."
+
+"Are you tired?"
+
+He was still tired, and said so.
+
+"And I woke you up! I'll tell you what, you must go to sleep and take
+a good nap."
+
+She began drying him off, as if that were a usual thing in her day's
+work. Then she rolled him up in a sheet and carried him off like a sack
+of clothes. He could not but notice the way she laid him down. Then
+she covered him warmly.
+
+"Straighten out your legs, my boy."
+
+Walter did as she said, and experienced an indescribable feeling of
+comfort. And when she punched him and patted him and tucked him in,
+and said: "Poor child, you can sleep good now. This is Femke's bed,
+you know----" then he was more than comfortable; he was delighted.
+
+When he awakened at about four o'clock in the afternoon he heard
+whispering voices. He listened, at first to find out where he was,
+and then to understand what was being said.
+
+It seemed as if there were a plot further to confuse Sietske with
+Femke in his mind.
+
+"Yes, Sietske; but what does he mean by lying out like that? If I
+were his mother----"
+
+The answer was:
+
+"Cousin, I don't suppose his mother knows about it. Hermann did the
+same thing once. That's the way boys are."
+
+Oho! Sietske was there; and Mrs. Claus was her cousin, and her name
+was Sietske too! And that girl--there in Mrs. Goremest's place?
+
+His thoughts became more and more confused; though physically he
+felt well.
+
+How would it do, he thought, to tear a little piece out of the sheet,
+so as to be able to examine it to-morrow and make certain of himself
+and his adventures?
+
+If he had been accustomed to fine bedlinen at home, he might now
+have taken an especial pleasure in Mrs. Claus's extremely rough
+homemade linen. Hm! He had always dreamed of princesses sleeping on
+embroidered silk, among diamonds and pearls! He did not yet know that
+it is possible to conceive royal and imperial highnesses otherwise
+at night, and that perhaps a princess might sometimes be willing to
+tousle Femke's bed.
+
+He looked about the room. There was another small bed, where, he
+supposed, Femke's mother slept. Across the room was the chimney. Here
+were small shelves decorated with works of art. Walter noticed the
+"resurrection of Lazarus." Four chairs were in the room. One was
+standing by his bed, and on it his clothes were carefully arranged.
+
+In the middle of the room stood a table; and the drawer was partly
+open. It was too full. Father Jansen's woolen socks were peeping
+out while they waited for repairs. Walter wondered if those other
+objectionable articles were there too.
+
+On the wall, at the head of his bed, hung a crucifix, with a small
+basin of holy water. With that she crosses herself, he thought. He
+stuck his hand into it: it was dry. The whole arrangement was fastened
+to an embroidered piece of cardboard, and, when he touched it,
+something fell from behind it.
+
+It looked like a large-sized letter. Walter picked it up and looked for
+the address. He felt that it must be a letter from Femke to him. Then
+he reproached himself, and, trembling with emotion, restored the piece
+of paper to its place. He had held it up to the light: it was the
+Ophelia that he had presented her after his illness! She had treasured
+the picture together with the most sacred thing she possessed.
+
+He was wide awake now; but who wouldn't wake up on receiving a letter
+from Heaven?
+
+He dressed himself and went into the other room, where he supposed
+Mrs. Claus and Sietske were. Not a soul was to be seen. For the first
+time it occurred to him that after those few words he had heard nothing
+more. The girl had surely visited her "cousin" and then gone away.
+
+But Mrs. Claus herself? Perhaps she, too, had gone away. This was
+the case; however, she had not gone out without leaving behind her
+a peculiar sign of her uncouth character and lack of refinement. On
+a small table, before which stood an inviting chair, lay two pieces
+of bread and butter of her standard make. Beside them was a pot of
+coffee. To be sure, it was cold now; but--well, Walter acted quickly
+"according to his convictions."
+
+Other thoughts now forced themselves on his mind. The "House of
+Pieterse" appeared to his mind's eye as a menacing waterspout. In
+the face of this danger difficult questions that had been clamoring
+for answer had to be forgotten.
+
+To go home? For heaven's sake, no!
+
+His mother, Stoffel, his sisters--all had turned into Macbethan
+witches. In his imagination, even Leentje had deserted him and was
+asking him to beg forgiveness for his shameful behavior. He thought
+of the prodigal son; though he knew that no calf, fat or otherwise,
+would be slaughtered on his return.
+
+Sakkerloot! I haven't done anything wrong; I haven't squandered
+anything--not a doit of my inheritance! Have I allowed the wine to
+run out? Not a drop!
+
+But something must have been the matter; for--he did not dare to
+go home.
+
+Have I had any pleasure? Have I enjoyed any feast with four young
+ladies? No! Have I allowed hounds to run around loose in the
+banquet-hall? Have I had any negro servant to hold my horse?
+
+There he took his stand. And he stayed there. Of camels and girls and
+wine he felt that he was innocent; but himself, and his adventures
+of the night, he was unable further to explain.
+
+"I wish I were a crumb of bread," he sighed, as he stuck one into
+his mouth, "then I would know where I belong."
+
+Doubtless the first crumb of bread that was ever envied by a ruler.
+
+Go to America?
+
+Yes, if he only had those hundred florins that Mr. Motto had relieved
+him of. Of course that worthy gentleman was now living like a prince
+on the money. At least, Juffrouw Pieterse had said as much. But,
+even if he had the money, he could not go away and leave Mrs. Claus's
+house to the mercy of stray thieves and robbers. In a way, hadn't he
+on yesterday evening taken the field against robbers?
+
+Besides, he had no cap. There was nothing in sight that looked like
+a hat. Yes--there hung a North Holland cap!
+
+Femke? America?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+While Walter was looking at Femke's cap and revolving other plans of
+escape, the door opened and Kaatje, the girl from Holsma's, walked
+in. Not recognizing her, Walter did not understand her when she said
+that Femke had sent her to ask how he was. He looked at the messenger
+searchingly; then he asked:
+
+"Are you trying to make a fool of me?"
+
+He had puzzled over recent events till everything seemed ghostly and
+unreal; and he was angry.
+
+"My dear sir, Femke sent me."
+
+"What Femke? Somebody's grandmother again." He took a step forward;
+and his attitude was threatening.
+
+"Are you that giant Miller's sweetheart?" taking another step forward,
+while Kaatje fell back.
+
+"Young man!"
+
+Kaatje was already outside of the door, Walter close after her with
+his fists doubled up.
+
+"Young man, what's the matter with you?"
+
+"What's the matter with me? I'm tired of being made a fool of. You
+understand?"
+
+She retreated backwards; he pursued. It may have looked comical; but
+that was the way his anger chose to express itself. In this manner
+the girl returned by the same way she came, which was the footpath
+across the meadow where the clothes were dried.
+
+"Oh, heavens! If the doctor would only come."
+
+"What do you think of me?" Walter said, punctuating his words.
+
+"Oh, Lord!"
+
+"Do you think I'm drunk?"
+
+"Oh, no, no. Not at all!"
+
+"Or crazy?"
+
+"No, no!--Where can the doctor be so long!"
+
+Two very similar shouts put an end to the strained situation.
+
+"Thank God, there he is!"
+
+"Thank God, there it is!"
+
+One cry came from Dr. Holsma's coachman, who was driving up hurriedly;
+the other cry meant that two boys, who were fishing in the ditch for
+frogs, had caught Walter's cap.
+
+Walter accepted his lost property without question or complaint;
+while Kaatje, with tears in her eyes, ran up to Dr. Holsma to explain
+what was the matter.
+
+"Is it really so bad?" asked that gentleman presently.
+
+He approached Walter, who was shaking the mud from his cap, glad to
+think that he was concealing his embarrassment and fright.
+
+"Well, my boy, it's a good thing I met you here. I wanted to ask you
+if you wouldn't like to take dinner with us this evening. Afterwards
+we will all go out for a little amusement, if you like."
+
+That was the tone Walter needed to hear. He burst into tears.
+
+"Thank you, thank you! That will be nice for my mother, too."
+
+Holsma motioned to Kaatje, who had timidly retired to the background.
+
+"Go to Juffrouw Pieterse and tell her that the young gentleman dines
+with us, and that he is going to spend the evening with us."
+
+"Yes," cried Walter quickly, "and----"
+
+The doctor looked at him anxiously. He was afraid that he saw symptoms
+of the alleged mental disorder; but Walter's eye was calm and gave
+no ground for fear.
+
+"M'neer, can't she say too that I----"
+
+"Out with it, my boy! What have you on your heart?"
+
+"That I was with you--all day!"
+
+Holsma reflected.
+
+"Certainly," he said, "all day."
+
+"From early this morning--from seven o'clock on."
+
+"From seven o'clock on," the doctor repeated.
+
+"And--I ate breakfast at your house."
+
+"Certainly, the young gentleman ate breakfast at our house. To be
+sure, he ate breakfast with us. Kaatje, you can ride in the carriage
+with us."
+
+As Holsma helped Walter in he gave the coachman directions to stop at
+Juffrouw Pieterse's, where "the girl" was "to leave a message." When
+he took a seat by his protege, Walter pressed his hand and exclaimed:
+"Oh, what a good fortune it is that I found you!"
+
+"Do you think so? It was only a--mere accident. Mrs. Claus is a----"
+
+"A cousin?" interrupted Walter.
+
+"Yes, and she's a good woman," said Holsma. "She is a cousin of ours,
+and I came to visit her. I do that every week, not as a physician,
+but as a kinsman. You can go to see her as much as you like: nothing
+will hurt you there."
+
+"M'neer!" exclaimed Walter suddenly--and he caught his breath--"I
+think so much of Femke!"
+
+"So?" answered Holsma dryly. "I do too."
+
+The doctor was diagnosing Walter's case; but he preferred to do it
+quietly. While speaking of indifferent things, he noted that Kaatje had
+been mistaken; that Walter was both excited and exhausted, but that
+his mind was unaffected. On the contrary, his mind was growing. His
+soul was expanding.
+
+When Kaatje left the carriage, Walter felt that the time had come to
+give and receive explanations. Holsma was of a contrary opinion. He
+was friendly enough, but showed no inclination for heart-to-heart
+confidences. Walter's confusing story was promptly interrupted.
+
+"I've heard that you're going to enter the world of business."
+
+"Yes, sir, the day after to-morrow."
+
+"Well, that isn't bad, if you get into the right hands. You must work,
+though; and that's good for boys like you."
+
+Fearing that Walter might imagine he was something more than the
+average boy, Holsma continued immediately:
+
+"It's a good thing for everybody, especially young people. They're
+all alike; and all need to work. All boys must work; and girls,
+too. Everybody must work."
+
+Walter did not understand that the doctor was giving him a dose
+of medicine; but he saw that the time for explanations had not
+yet arrived. Still he would have felt better if he could have
+unburdened his mind of at least a part of those persistent memories
+of last night. His instinct of chivalry would have prevented him
+from mentioning the details of the Laps affair, which, after all,
+had only been an ineffective attack.
+
+He began again; but the doctor interrupted him before he had hardly
+mentioned the fried potatoes.
+
+"Yes, such things happen to everybody. That doesn't amount to
+anything. The thing for young people to do--and for old people,
+too--is to work. It seems to be rather windy."
+
+That was true. If it had only been as windy yesterday.
+
+"Do you like pictures?" asked Holsma, when they had left the carriage
+and were entering his home.
+
+"Of course!"
+
+"Good! Just go into that room. Look at everything as long as you
+please."
+
+The doctor pushed him into the room, then ran through the hall and
+up the stairs to prepare the family for Walter's reception.
+
+Walter found little pleasure in paintings. He had had no training
+in art. For him, a man with a dog and a hare was merely a man with a
+dog and a hare. He felt that a poem ought to have been written about
+it all; then it would have been intelligible. His glance fell on the
+portrait of a woman, or a queen, or a fairy, or a mayor's daughter.
+
+Femke!
+
+Instead of the North Holland cap she wore a diadem of sparkling stars,
+or rays of----
+
+"Dinner is ready, and papa and mamma invite you to come out to the
+dining-room. Are you still sore after your fall?" It was little
+Sietske.
+
+"I didn't fall."
+
+"I mean from your fall on the table in the coffee-house. How
+comical! Well, if you are all right again, we're going out this
+evening--papa, mamma, William, Hermann, you, I--all! We're going to
+the theatre!"
+
+Sietske had understood her orders.
+
+"Going out?--to the theatre? But my mother----"
+
+"Papa will attend to that. Don't worry; he will arrange everything."
+
+Once out in the hall, Walter hesitated again. He motioned to Sietske
+and took her back into the room.
+
+"Sietske, who is that?"
+
+"That is a great-great-great-great-grandmother of ours."
+
+"But she looks like----"
+
+"Like Femke! Of course. Like me, too. When Hermann puts on such a
+cap you can't tell him from Femke. Come, now. We mustn't keep mamma
+waiting."
+
+On entering the dining-room Walter was met by that quiet cordiality
+that the doctor had prescribed. When all were seated Sietske mentioned
+the picture again in apologizing to Walter for hurrying him away
+from it.
+
+"Yes," remarked the doctor quietly, "there is some resemblance;
+but Femke is not so pretty. No, not by a great deal."
+
+A cold douche!
+
+Walter had never thought of Femke's beauty. He really did not know
+whether the girl was pretty, or not.
+
+"Will you take some sauce, Walter?"
+
+She had called him brother, so solemnly, and with such a mien! Of
+course the lady in the portrait, with the sparkling diadem, would
+hold out her hand the same way. Walter made an awkward gesture with
+his hand.
+
+"Salad?" asked Sietske.
+
+"It will be crowded," said Mevrouw Holsma. "Everyone will want to see
+the kings and princes. We haven't asked our guest yet if he wants to
+go. We're going to the theatre; would you like to go with us?"
+
+Walter was charmed at the prospect. He had never been in a theatre,
+but had long wanted to see such a play as Leentje had described. He
+cared nothing for kings. He would have given a dozen kings for one
+baron carrying away a girl in the approved manner. The Glorioso
+influence was still on him.
+
+"We shall see half of the sovereigns of Europe," said Holsma, "and
+a dozen candidates----"
+
+Walter wondered what the candidates would do in the "comedy." Sietske
+explained.
+
+There was still plenty of time. Holsma was going out to see a patient
+and promised to stop at Juffrouw Pieterse's.
+
+For reasons of fashion and feminine finery the play was not to begin
+till nine o'clock.
+
+Walter heard that Femke, too, was to witness the performance; and from
+the conversation he gathered that the relations existing between the
+aristocratic family and the poor wash-girl were most cordial. Mevrouw
+Holsma sent Sietske to ask Femke to come in; but Femke preferred to
+remain with little Erich, with whom she was playing at the time.
+
+"Erich?" thought Walter.
+
+"I thought as much," said Mevrouw Holsma. "That's why she wasn't at
+the table. She would rather stay with the baby."
+
+"She says, too, that we sit at the table too long for her," added
+Sietske.
+
+"She wouldn't enjoy the play anyway," observed William. "She's a good
+girl, but she's a little thick-headed. Don't you think so, mamma?"
+
+"Everyone must act according to his own convictions, and consult his
+own tastes. Femke is too good to be forced to anything."
+
+There must have been some special reason why the mother was going
+to the theatre with the rest, when she preferred to stay at home
+with little Erich, who had the measles. But she was going to remain
+"only a little while," and then come back with Uncle Sybrand. He
+would return to the theatre taking Femke with him, if she cared to go.
+
+"I call it thick-headedness," affirmed William. "She just don't want
+to put on a fine dress."
+
+"No, she doesn't want to be a fine lady," said the mother. "She is
+very sensible and fears that this might disturb her relations with her
+mother. We ought to have taken her when she was little; but Mrs. Claus
+couldn't give her up then. And now Femke can't give herself up."
+
+"She's only stubborn," William explained.
+
+"She is proud," corrected his mother, "too proud to appear other than
+she is. She wouldn't exchange places with a princess."
+
+Uncle Sybrand came. He announced that the "Scylla" of Rotgans was to be
+given, followed by "Chloris," with something else as a close. Holsma
+had already returned, bringing Walter the assurance that it was all
+right with his mother.
+
+Walter was enchanted in anticipation. Was he still thinking of Femke?
+
+William said: "So far as I'm concerned she can stay at home. Suppose
+the students were to see me with a peasant girl! What would they do
+for me when I enter college in September?"
+
+Such an Amsterdamer calls everybody a "peasant," even if he is a
+student and able to explain what sort of a "Scylla" that was.
+
+All were now dressed and starting. Walter was to see his first
+"comedy," and, perhaps, take a part in one.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+Good Muse, sweet Muse, take us back to Pieterseville again. Whisper
+to me and tell me what happened there during Walter's romantic
+enchantment; and have a care that my language rises to the dignity
+of the subject.
+
+We know already, Clio, how the mistress of the castle saw her progeny
+depart to protect the distressed lady from the nefarious attacks of
+robbers and murderers; how her blessing and the consecrated blade were
+withheld, and how the brave youth sallied forth with a nightcap his
+only weapon. We know, too, how the bachelor Stoffel, the hereditary
+custodian of the reputation of the family----
+
+Ah, let us treat the matter quite simply, and leave the muse alone.
+
+On the Friday evening in question Juffrouw Pieterse went to bed as
+usual. The others did the same. There were no indications of bad
+dreams. There was no trace of anxiety over the terrible danger to
+which Walter had thoughtlessly exposed himself. This might have
+been because they did not know of the danger. It had not been at
+all necessary for Juffrouw Laps to conceal her intention so slyly
+and always omit Walter's name from the knighthood of the Pieterse
+family. Thanks to the stupidity of the family, she might have gained
+her point without any finesse.
+
+Saturday morning dawned, that morning on which Mrs. Claus applied
+the restoratives so abundantly, and so efficaciously.
+
+"I wonder where in the world the boy can be so long?" said the mother.
+
+"I don't suppose he got up very early; and then maybe she had him to
+read a chapter out of the Bible at breakfast."
+
+This explanation by Stoffel quieted the family for half an hour.
+
+"How would it do for you to go over there?" Juffrouw Pieterse proposed
+at last.
+
+"I'm not going, mother. You know it isn't on my way to school."
+
+That was a sufficient reason. Never do anything that isn't on your
+way--one of the favorite maxims of conservatism. Stoffel himself did
+not know how profound was the wisdom of his political aphorism.
+
+"How would it do, then, to send Leentje over to Juffrouw Laps's to
+inquire about Walter?"
+
+This proposal met with approval, and Leentje was dispatched forthwith.
+
+Oh, poor Juffrouw Laps! She was "the most wretched woman in the world;"
+and the room from which Walter had fled so suddenly was now the temple
+of all the heterogeneous griefs and pains that novelists ever make
+use of.
+
+I will not place Walter above Joseph, Theseus, Jason or Hippolytos. May
+Apollo preserve me from such blind partiality. Not by any means do I
+regard my hero as the most interesting mortal that ever left a woman
+in the lurch. No, not in Walter's worth do I seek for the measure
+of the forsaken lady's despair. Indeed, Juffrouw Laps's pain was
+not caused by any reflections as to the beauty or excellence of the
+vanished knight. There was another element in the matter that was
+filling her with horror and driving her to distraction. With all due
+respect for the suffering of other abandoned ladies, Asnath, Ariadne,
+Medea, Phaedra--but Juffrouw Laps had to face Walter's family. That
+was the trouble.
+
+Her fertile brain evolved the most wonderful plans. How would it do for
+her to tell that he had been carried away in a fiery chariot before
+the eyes of the people, like Elias of old? She discarded the idea,
+for fear that no one would believe it.
+
+At first she had waited at the window, watching for her little Theseus
+to return. When she saw him no more she thought that perhaps the mob
+had carried him off with them. That was not an unpleasant thought;
+since her fear for his return to his family was greater than her
+desire for his return to her. This is easily understood: what might
+he not tell at home?
+
+It was already daylight; but Juffrouw Laps knew that it was too early
+to go to the Pieterses'. Besides, what would she say? That her little
+knight had run away during the night? And why? Whither? How did she
+know but that he had already told the story in all its details?
+
+She determined--not to determine upon anything, and to leave the
+matter with the "Master" for the present. With this pious resolve she
+climbed into her maidenly bed; and, before falling asleep, she groaned:
+"If the rascal had only broken his neck, like the high priest Eli,
+in First Samuel, 4!"
+
+No doubt the Master saw the distress of his faithful disciple and
+taught her how to meet the situation that awaited her waking; for
+Leentje soon returned with the assurance of Juffrouw Laps that Walter
+was out taking a morning walk.
+
+In a way, this was the truth. The Juffrouw merely neglected to add
+why he was taking a walk, and at what hour in the morning he had gone
+out. Leentje, suspecting nothing, asked no questions. For her it was a
+"matter of course" that he would not go out in the middle of the night.
+
+The family now regarded the incident as fresh evidence of Walter's
+objectionable habit of roving, and nothing more. They felt no anxiety
+for his personal safety.
+
+"There it is again!" said the mother. "The trouble and vexation I
+have with that boy. Anybody else would sit down for a while after
+breakfast; but he--what does he do? He runs away before it's hardly
+daylight. Is that any way to do, Stoffel?"
+
+"No, mother."
+
+"And to leave us here anxious and worrying over him!"
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"This is a nice caper he's cutting again. He knows very well that
+we're all uneasy and won't have a minute's peace till he comes. God
+only knows where he is."
+
+Stoffel could not wait to hear more. It was time for him to go
+to school.
+
+It may be repeated that there was not a word of truth in all this
+uneasiness and anxiety. The family considered such a display to be the
+proper thing; though, for the rest, they did not manifest the slightest
+interest in Walter's fate. For aught they knew some accident might
+have happened to the boy; but, instead of making a serious effort to
+find out what had become of him, his mother found it easier to accuse
+him of indecorous conduct and general worthlessness.
+
+Thus matters remained until Dr. Holsma's carriage drove up before
+Juffrouw Pieterse's door that afternoon and Kaatje alighted with her
+message. After the recent fright Walter had given her, she was glad
+enough to escape from such close proximity to the young lunatic. For
+thus she regarded him.
+
+All rushed to the window.
+
+"There he is; there he is!" cried the whole family in a breath, and
+as loud as they could. "Did you ever! Really, he's sitting there in
+Dr. Holsma's carriage."
+
+This flattering observation banished everything else from their
+thoughts, and made Kaatje's task an easy one. It was now a simple
+matter for her to allay their fears. They were no longer concerned
+to know where Walter had been. It was enough that he was now in
+Dr. Holsma's carriage.
+
+"Ate breakfast at the doctor's? Girl, you don't say so! And--and--why
+isn't the coachman wearing his furs?"
+
+Kaatje was dumbfounded and could only stammer some reference to the
+season. In fact, the manner in which her message was being received
+strengthened her worst suspicions of Walter's sanity. It seemed to
+her that the entire family was a little "off."
+
+"And he really ate breakfast at the doctor's? Do you understand,
+Trudie? Ate breakfast at Dr. Holsma's!"
+
+"Yes, he ate breakfast with us. To be sure he did. The doctor himself
+said so."
+
+"At Dr. Holsma's, and ate breakfast there?"
+
+"Why, certainly. Where else?"
+
+"And did he use the good manners I've taught him?"
+
+"Of course, Juffrouw! But----"
+
+"And is he now in the carriage with the doctor?"
+
+"Why, Juffrouw--naturally!"
+
+"Listen, my dear," continued the proud mother, "I am going to tell you
+something; but you need not repeat it to anybody else. Don't you know,
+that's an unusual child!"
+
+"Yes," sighed Kaatje, thoroughly convinced, "I know it."
+
+"You know it, don't you? And do you know why? I'm going to tell
+you. He's an unusual child, because--Pietro, move away a little, and
+you, too, Mina. Trudie, you can stay where you are, but pay attention
+to your knitting!--he's an unusual child, don't you know, because,
+before he was born, you understand----"
+
+"Oh, Juffrouw!"
+
+"Yes, my dear, I dreamed of a butterfly; and it was dragging off an
+elephant! You understand now?"
+
+"Oh, yes, Juffrouw. I understand exactly."
+
+"Don't you see? That's the reason. Give the doctor my politest regards,
+and thank him for me. If he's only well-behaved--I mean Walter. And
+the coachman wears such a fur cap only in the winter?"
+
+Kaatje managed to escape, fully resolved never to dream of elephants
+and butterflies. Such an indulgence seemed to her to be particularly
+dangerous; for she now began to think in all seriousness that the
+whole family was crazy, and that what she had seen in Walter was
+merely a sample of the general disorder.
+
+When a few hours later the doctor himself stopped at Juffrouw
+Pieterse's, her joy over Walter's exaltation know no bounds. Holsma
+took note of the stupid woman's foibles and follies, and resolved
+to prescribe an intellectual diet for Walter that would counteract
+their influence.
+
+Poor Juffrouw Laps! If she had only known how happily everything
+had turned out, how much worry she might have spared herself! In the
+seclusion of her own room she was still quoting the Bible and fighting
+for her honor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+The reader is now invited to return to the theatre party, from which
+he was called suddenly away by the anxiety experienced in certain
+quarters over Walter's disappearance.
+
+The family took their seats, in the parquet this time, having had to
+give up their box to visiting potentates. The box was still unoccupied.
+
+"A comedy!" Walter thought. He looked about him and listened.
+
+The house was crowded, and everyone was talking. Backstairs gossip and
+court scandals were passed around. People were wondering who would
+sit there, and who would sit there. Later arrivals were pushing at
+one another and quarreling about seats.
+
+"The programs for the princes are printed on silk. What do you suppose
+it cost a yard?"
+
+"Rotgans is one of the first poets!"
+
+"Hm! Better say one of the second."
+
+"He's a poet of the seventh class."
+
+"Why, then, one of his plays? We have poets whose song is as clear
+as a bell!"
+
+"Of course, Bilderdyk! A Phoenix!"
+
+"Oh, these foreigners don't understand a word of it anyway, and it
+doesn't make any difference what the play is."
+
+"It's a pity about Floris."
+
+"Oh, there's something behind that."
+
+"Yes, Bilderdyk is a patriot."
+
+"A genuine Hollander!"
+
+"A genuine----"
+
+"He will give those foreigners something to think about."
+
+"Sh!---- ... not much flattery. No Hollander is going to do that."
+
+"Sh!"
+
+Everybody stood up. A footman appeared in the royal box, probably to
+see whether the cushions were straight on the chairs, or not.
+
+"The idea, the very idea of standing up before a lackey!"
+
+It was enough to make them indignant; but they had done it, even
+those who protested loudest. There were city aldermen in the number,
+and doctors, and professors, and prominent business men, including,
+perhaps, the great Kopperlith.
+
+Another period of babbling and waiting; then another footman
+appeared. Again everybody sprang to his feet. Again all, except the
+silent Holsmas, railed at such stupidity.
+
+The crowd became more restless. Innumerable times were they fooled by
+some footman or other, who opened a door to break the monotony. The
+people were already beginning to complain, but softly, cautiously.
+
+Walter was carried away with the elegance and magnificence of it
+all. One thing, however, jarred upon his sense of propriety: he
+wondered how such swell folk could say such commonplace things. The
+Holsmas said nothing. Only once, when Uncle Sybrand pointed to a
+certain box, did they join in the general hubbub.
+
+"She will sit there, I think."
+
+"I shall be sorry if I have left little Erich all for nothing,"
+said Mevrouw Holsma.
+
+"He's safe with Femke."
+
+"Yes, but I had rather be with him myself. The child is sick. I'm
+not going to wait much longer."
+
+"It's doubtful whether she will come with the others. I've heard that
+she's full of moods and mischief. She cares nothing for convention. It
+seems to run in the blood."
+
+"If she isn't here by ten o'clock I'm going. I don't care much about
+it, anyway."
+
+This conversation occupied Walter for a short time. Who was this person
+on whose account Mevrouw Holsma had left the bedside of her sick child?
+
+The tension of expectancy was broken, and a momentary excitement pulsed
+through the multitude. All arose to their feet, and remained standing.
+
+An emperor, or something of the kind, entered the royal box. Walter
+could see little; but he inferred what was going on from whisperings
+he heard about him. His majesty had made a quick rush for his chair,
+turning over a few other chairs in so doing. That was a habit of
+his. Then he looked about the auditorium for a moment with squinted
+eyes, jerked up his chair and fell into it. He was in a hurry. The
+public was now at liberty to take their seats.
+
+The other boxes were now filled quickly, as if by a stroke of
+magic. Remarkable costumes were on exhibition. There were bodices three
+inches wide, with skirts of as many yards. Voluptuous bosoms hovered
+between chin and girdle. Scanty sleevelets did not know whether they
+were to cover arms or shoulders. The ladies wore kid gloves reaching to
+their armpits, and on their heads were turbans and flower-gardens. The
+uniforms of the gentlemen were even more conspicuous. Those shakos! The
+enemy would have run at the sight of them.
+
+The orchestra began to play. It was that song about the brave Dunois,
+of course.
+
+"Arise!" someone called; and all scrambled to their feet again in
+honor of the brave hero.
+
+The curtain went up.
+
+
+    "Yes, Minos, on the present that I gave to thee----
+    'Twas stolen from the church----"
+
+
+"What church?" asked Walter.
+
+"Sh!" from William. "Poetic license. You will see how it is."
+
+
+    "----hangs Nisus' crown and life."
+
+
+"Qu'est-ze qu'elle changte?" cried the countess-palatine. Then she
+let herself out on costumes, speaking in a noisy voice.
+
+Walter listened like a finch. Not that he understood very well;
+but everything strange interested him intensely.
+
+Not a soul was touched by the tragic bravery of King Minos; no one was
+listening. Poor Rotgans! Afterwards it was said that Napoleon had been
+especially pleased with "our Snoel" and with "our Watlier." Goodness,
+Napoleon! When he was to be crowned he had Talma the mimic to drill
+him for the ceremony--instead of saying to Talma: "Look, this is the
+way an emperor appears when he's crowned!"
+
+Walter listened attentively; even though he sometimes felt that he
+could make such verses himself.
+
+During the performance another commotion arose. One of their majesties
+had asked for a glass of orange lemonade; and this was something the
+buffetier did not have. A runner was dispatched to the drug-store
+post haste. He returned with a bottle of lemon-syrup. The situation
+became threatening. The news spread like fire that they were making a
+"Majesty" wait for such a trifle. King Minos declared:
+
+
+    "Feelings of pleasure thrill my inner man--"
+
+
+"De l'eau de fleur d'orange! que diantre!" cried a chamberlain. And
+Minos noticed that nobody was interested in what was going on in
+his interior.
+
+A confectioner up on "Olympus" allowed his light to flash out and
+gave some valuable information; but the police had him by the collar
+in a jiffy. He was to be dragged away and put in confinement for
+the present. The technical charge was, "Making a demonstration for
+the House of Orange." At that time the House of Orange was in exile,
+and Napoleon's brother was king of Holland.
+
+
+    "Feelings of pleasure thrill my inner man--"
+
+
+repeated Minos with gusto. The conductor of the orchestra seized his
+baton and was going to play, "Hail to the Emperor." Many stood up in
+readiness to escape in case of danger.
+
+In the meantime the prisoner was screaming as if he were possessed;
+but the two Italian police that Napoleon had brought with him could
+not understand a word.
+
+The emperor himself had forgotten that he had called for orange water
+and was now engrossed in a military map.
+
+"Qu' a-t-il?" he seemed to be asking the lady next to him.
+
+Minos had begun again and was once more repeating his assurance that
+"feelings of pleasure thrill----"
+
+Walter noted that the grown-up members of the Holsma party did not
+pay the slightest attention to the play.
+
+"If she doesn't come soon, I'm going," Mevrouw Holsma repeated.
+
+"Perhaps she's sitting further back in the emperor's box, where we
+can't see her."
+
+"I've heard that in Paris she never stays fifteen minutes in the same
+place. Maybe we shall find her somewhere else," remarked another.
+
+"I am not going to wait but five minutes longer. My little Erich is
+worth more to me than a thousand cousins----"
+
+"Of the king," added Holsma.
+
+Walter had thought that they meant Femke. What, then, could be so
+interesting about the princess? The boxes were full of them.
+
+At the close of the third act Mevrouw Holsma left with Uncle Sybrand,
+who was to return with Femke. "If she will come," he said. "For she
+cares nothing for such a fuss."
+
+Walter knew better. Uncle Sybrand ought to have seen her in the
+"Juniper Berry." But a knight tells no tales.
+
+Old Minos is insanely in love with Ismene, who is so beautiful
+and virtuous. Scylla is insanely in love with Minos, who is old and
+dignified. Ismene is in love with Focus, who is a hero; and, possibly,
+Focus loves Ismene, though he does not treat her quite gallantly. He
+says to her:
+
+
+    "Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"
+
+
+The tumult on Mount Olympus began afresh. Had the rebellious
+confectioner returned? All eyes were directed toward the gallery. A
+policeman in uniform was seen remonstrating in vain with some men
+on the front seat. In order to make them understand his French, or
+Italian, he was pulling at their arms. They were to understand that
+he did not want to arrest them, or kill them, but merely wanted them
+to give up their seats.
+
+
+    "Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"
+
+
+"Qu' y a-t-il encore?" asked the emperor again; and, when one of the
+chamberlains answered his question, he laughed heartily. Heads were
+together everywhere. Something interesting was going forward on Mount
+Olympus. People whispered and tittered and laughed outright. Their
+eyes were fastened on the gallery. Even the emperor stood up and
+leaned out of his box. But it did no good: he could not see around
+the corner. He was surprised at this.
+
+The countess-palatine, however, had got to the bottom of the
+matter. She was exchanging telegraphic messages with someone in the
+background on Mount Olympus. No one was thinking of Rotgans' play.
+
+She was greeting someone with that famous fan. Whom? The rebellious
+confectioner? With arms extended she was testifying that there was
+something extraordinary up there among that rabble.
+
+
+    "Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"
+
+
+The countess-palatine threw off all restraint, and laughed and
+laughed. After the emperor had laughed hilarity was permissible. Her
+pleasure was beyond her control.
+
+I should have to have a double pen to report what Uncle Sybrand said
+on his return, and, at the same time, reproduce the exclamation that
+escaped Walter, who was looking towards the gallery with eyes and
+mouth wide open.
+
+"Where is Femke?" asked Holsma.
+
+"She didn't want to come," replied Uncle Sybrand. "Just as I said."
+
+"There she is!" cried Walter.
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Femke, M'neer, Femke, Femke--that is Femke! And she----"
+
+The girl above had taken hold of the policeman by the collar and,
+pushing him to one side, had pressed forward to the front row. There
+she had seated herself on the laps of the fellows the policeman had
+been negotiating with in vain.
+
+"It is Femke, M'neer. If only they don't hurt her!"
+
+Again the emperor stood up and stared at Mount Olympus. He saw the girl
+with the North Holland cap and nodded to her. The countess-palatine
+greeted again with her fan, as if she would congratulate her on
+securing the seat.
+
+"But, M'neer, it is Femke," cried Walter, amazed that he received
+no answer.
+
+Even Holsma and Sybrand were surprised, but not so much so as Walter.
+
+"Now, children," said Holsma, "you can tell your mother that we saw
+her." And to Walter he continued, "That girl is a relation of ours."
+
+"Yes, Femke!"
+
+"No, that isn't her name; and----"
+
+"M'neer, don't I know Femke?"
+
+That sounded quite different from what Walter had said that evening
+when he "denied" her.
+
+The girl's big blue eyes, roving about the hall, suddenly fell on
+Walter. She bent over, looked him attentively in the face, then nodded
+to him and threw him a kiss.
+
+At least, he thought it was that way; and it was that way. But everyone
+in the parquet thought that the kiss had been intended for him. Folk
+of quality were annoyed at the insolence of the peasant wench; while
+more "sporty" persons returned the attention.
+
+Soon hissing was heard. The news had leaked out that Princess Erika,
+the cousin of the king, had dressed in the national costume to show
+her affection for the people.
+
+"Don't you believe it, M'neer? I tell you that is Femke," Walter
+assured him with tears in his eyes.
+
+"No, no, my boy. That girl is not Femke."
+
+"But, she greeted me!"
+
+"You saw the emperor greet her; and you know he would not salute
+a wash-girl."
+
+That was perhaps true; but it was hard for Walter to accept it. And,
+on the other hand, it was just as hard for him to believe that the
+princess was a cousin of the Holsmas.
+
+Again he imagined that the girl was nodding to him and motioning her
+lips. It looked to him as if she said: "My brother!" Walter lisped
+the words after her and pressed both hands to his breast.
+
+Yes, now he had it! They considered him a little daft and wanted
+to cure him of his fixed idea. That would explain the visit to the
+theatre and also Femke's alleged unwillingness to come with Uncle
+Sybrand. But--how did she dare to interfere with the policeman? And
+the greeting from the emperor? And how did Holsma know that he had
+"denied" Femke, and that her presence could threaten his peace of mind?
+
+"Oh, M'neer, let Femke sit here! I will be perfectly quiet. I am so
+afraid she will get hurt up there among those men."
+
+Holsma looked at him wistfully. After all, could Kaatje have been
+right about it? He sought to distract Walter's attention by referring
+to other things; but it was useless.
+
+"All right," said Holsma at last "I just wanted to tease you a
+little. Femke is sitting up there, because she--doesn't wish to sit
+here. She thinks that it wouldn't be proper, because she's only a
+wash-girl. She's afraid we would be ashamed. You see?"
+
+"M'neer, no one need be ashamed to sit by her. Not even the emperor."
+
+"Yes, yes," agreed Holsma. "Quite so. Femke is a brave girl and
+doesn't need to cringe before anybody. Watch the play, my boy."
+
+Walter was willing to do what the doctor said, but not without taking
+leave of that glorious apparition. He looked up; and she smiled to
+him again. Then she took from her breast a rose branch, with three
+buds on it, held it a moment between the forefinger and thumb of her
+left hand, pointed to Walter with her right and let it fall.
+
+The rosebuds landed on the bald pate of a stout gentleman near the
+Holsma party. He seized them and examined them admiringly; but, before
+he could decide what to do with them, Walter had sprung over half a
+dozen chairs and deprived him of the precious property. With a glance
+toward Olympus, Walter pressed the roses to his lips. Princess Erika
+nodded approval; and the playful countess-palatine applauded lustily.
+
+That was more than Walter could bear. He had never forgiven himself
+for denying her; but she, the noble, the big-hearted, the majestic
+one!--she had proclaimed her pardon publicly before the people. And
+that was why she preferred to sit in the gallery. She had washed
+away the black spots from his soul; she had restored his soiled
+chivalry. These thoughts flashed through Walter's mind like lightning.
+
+He sank to the floor in a faint. But was it any wonder?
+
+The Holsmas took him home with them for the night; and another message
+was sent to Juffrouw Pieterse.
+
+"Don't you see, Stoffel? Just as I said! I don't care if everybody
+knows it. He's simply living at Dr. Holsma's. Trudie, don't forget when
+Leentje goes to the grocer's---- Upon my soul, he's at Dr. Holsma's
+all the time!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+The next morning, Sunday, the doctor invited Walter into his study. He
+spoke to him sympathetically and encouraged the boy to lay his case
+before him; though he avoided everything that might make Walter believe
+that his experiences were anything extraordinary. He already knew
+more about it than Walter could tell. Even Walter's adventure with
+Juffrouw Laps was perfectly transparent to him. There was nothing
+lost to him because of the boy's lack of skill in handling the story.
+
+While Walter poured out to him his inner experiences, Holsma listened
+quietly, as if it was all familiar to him. Walter's reverence and
+passion for the good he interpreted as a commonplace phenomenon
+incident to budding youth. He treated the boy's love for Femke as an
+ordinary matter. He admitted that it had been exactly the same way
+with him when he was a boy--a method that few parents and educators
+seem to be familiar with.
+
+"Certainly, certainly, my boy. In such moods a fellow would like
+to be everywhere at the same time, ruling, regulating and putting
+things into order. He feels that he's responsible for everything;
+and it hurts him to see so much crookedness in the world. I know very
+well how it is. But you must consider the means and remedies at your
+disposal. How are you going to begin to improve things?"
+
+Walter was silent.
+
+"Do you think that everyone is bad? I suppose you hardly think
+that. There are plenty of people in the world who wish for the same
+things that you are worrying about. Why don't they change the world?"
+
+Again Walter was silent. The very simplicity with which Holsma put
+the question disconcerted him.
+
+"I will try to help you out. Do you believe that I am a good man?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" cried Walter enthusiastically.
+
+"You think so? Well, I think so too. I should be ashamed not to be
+able to say that. Why don't I reform the world? You often speak of
+Africa. That's because you don't know that country, my boy. And I, who
+am a good man, have not abolished slavery. Why not, do you suppose?"
+
+Walter returned no answer. Holsma was busy with a surgical
+operation. Is it any wonder that the patient tried to withdraw the
+member that was being cut away?
+
+"I will present the matter to you differently. Do you hear that
+knocking and hammering? Listen! That comes from the blacksmith's shop
+over there. It isn't so bad on Sunday; but you can easily imagine
+that the noise sometimes disturbs me."
+
+"In case of sickness!"
+
+"Yes, and also when I wish to think. And then I should like to see the
+blacksmiths swept away--quick--just like that! But why don't I do it?"
+
+"Because--because you can't, M'neer."
+
+"Quite right. For the same reason I have not yet corrected any of the
+wrongs in Africa. Nor in Asia; nor in America; nor in other countries
+that I might mention. But yesterday evening, when you were taken sick
+in the theatre, I brought you home with me and put you to bed. Then
+I sent a messenger to quiet your mother. That was my duty, wasn't it?
+
+"No thanks, my boy. It seemed to me to be my duty; and I did
+it--because I could. Whatever is impossible, is not my duty; and
+that's the reason I don't take those blacksmiths between my thumb
+and forefinger and transport them to some other clime. For the same
+reason I don't fret over doings in Africa. Impossible duty is no duty;
+and running after the impossible interferes with the performance of
+real duties. At school did you ever fail to know a lesson?"
+
+"Oh yes, very often! But not lately; because Femke----"
+
+"Leave Femke out of account for the present. I may say something
+about her another time. When you were neglecting your books at school,
+you were thinking of other things, things far removed from your work.
+
+"That is a mistake that many young people make--don't be offended:
+I did the same thing--and usually on account of laziness. It is more
+convenient to imagine one's self soaring over the distant mountain
+top than to lift a foot and step over the stone just in front of
+one. Of all the million things that you would like to do there are
+only a very few that you can do. Busy yourself with these few. That
+is the way to succeed. Whatever comes up, always ask: 'What is my
+immediate duty?' Will you promise to do this?"
+
+Walter gave Holsma his hand on it.
+
+"And you would like to know more, my boy? I would, too. What lies
+before you? Well, you are behind in your studies. Other boys of your
+age know more. We will speak of that again, however; for that is
+something to be attended to later, and does not come under the head of
+immediate duty. That smattering of Latin, for which you envy William,
+you can acquire in a few months, when once you've learned how to use
+your will. The enemies you have to fight now are quite different from
+the knights of your romances. Do not underestimate the difficulties
+you will have to contend with. That might result in your defeat. You
+must learn to use your intellectual faculties at will; and keep a firm
+grip on 'Fancy,' or else she will throw you head over heels. Dreaming
+is not living."
+
+Walter nodded assent.
+
+"True manliness," Holsma continued, "means, to do what has to be done,
+no difference how insignificant it may be. What would you think of a
+lot of knights, who let tramps beat them over the heads because their
+code of honor did not allow them to fight with tramps? You are going
+into business now: come to me in a month and tell me if you have kept
+your word. Then we will speak further; but--that first! Will you?"
+
+"Certainly I shall keep my word, M'neer. But, M'neer, may I ask----?"
+
+"About Femke? Well, that is a good, brave girl. She's a cousin
+of mine."
+
+"But how did she happen to be----?"
+
+"The young lady in the theatre wasn't Femke. That was Princess
+Erika. We wanted to see her because her ancestors were related to
+ours. You rogue, you! There was nothing special about that."
+
+"A real princess?"
+
+"Yes; and Femke is a real wash-girl. I hope that Princess Erika has as
+admirable a character as Femke. But don't attribute too much importance
+to this, my boy. Such differences in related families are of frequent
+occurrence, whether one notices them, or not. There was a time when
+Erika's forefathers dressed themselves in skins; and mine did the
+same. We don't know whether she is aware that she has relations here
+or not. Uncle Sybrand found out--well, he takes a sort of pleasure
+in tracing out the identity of opposites. Rightly understood, the
+world is smaller than you imagine; everything is a link in the same
+sequence. Who knows but that you may turn the course of history
+to-morrow, when you go to work for--what is the style of the firm?"
+
+"Ouwetyd & Kopperlith."
+
+"Yes, when you go to work for Ouwetyd & Kopperlith. But, whether it's
+to be an historical event, or not, perform your immediate duty. That
+is the chivalrous, manly thing for you to do--if you will take my
+advice. Will you?"
+
+"Yes, M'neer! But--Femke?"
+
+"There you go again! She has nothing to do with your immediate
+duty. The lady that you must attend upon and serve faithfully is--who?"
+
+"Do you mean 'Business'?"
+
+"Right. If you are determined to know more about Femke, I will tell
+you what she says. She says that for the present you must think of
+nothing but your work."
+
+"Oh, I will, I will!"
+
+"For about ten years."
+
+"Ten years? Ten?"
+
+"Yes, that is what she said when she heard how little you know and
+how little you can do."
+
+"Ten years?"
+
+"Yes, that is what she said. Perhaps eight, perhaps twelve, perhaps
+twenty. One cannot say exactly beforehand. You understand that,
+don't you?"
+
+"Ten years!"
+
+"So she said."
+
+"I will!"
+
+"Good. It will give me pleasure--and Femke, too. Don't imagine it
+will be particularly difficult. Ten years ago thousands began just
+where you will begin to-morrow; and they are still alive. So, you see,
+it can be done. Besides, think only of the first month; and then the
+time will seem shorter. I shall expect you to come to see me in about
+a month; then we shall have more to say."
+
+Before Walter left, he promised again to banish all boyish follies
+from his thoughts. But he put away the rosebuds; and he kept them.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Walter Pieterse, by Multatuli
+
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+
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