the saint to bring the
young masters to life."

"And did the saint do it?" asked Gretel, delighted, well knowing what
the answer would be.

"Of course he did. The pickled pieces flew together in an instant, and
out jumped the young gentlemen from the brine tub. They cast themselves
at the feet of Saint Nicholas, and he gave them his blessing, and--oh!
mercy on us, Hans, it will be dark before you get back if you don't
start this minute!"

By this time Dame Brinker was almost out of breath and quite out of
commas. She could not remember when she had seen the children idle away
an hour of daylight in this manner, and the thought of such luxury quite
appalled her. By way of compensation she now flew about the room in
extreme haste. Tossing a block of peat upon the fire, blowing invisible
fire from the table, and handing the finished hose to Hans, all in an
instant...

"Comes, Hans," she said as her boy lingered by the door. "What keeps
thee?"

Hans kissed his mother's plump cheek, rosy and fresh yet, in spite of
all her troubles.

"My mother is the best in the world, and I would be right glad to have
a pair of skates, but"--and as he buttoned his jacket he looked, in a
troubled way, toward a strange figure crouching by the hearthstone--"if
my money would bring a meester *{Doctor (dokter in Dutch), called
meester by the lower class.} from Amsterdam to see the father, something
might yet be done."

"A meester would not come, Hans, for twice that money, and it would do
no good if he did. Ah, how many guilders I once spent for that, but the
dear, good father would not waken. It is God's will. Go, Hans, and buy
the skates."

Hans started with a heavy heart, but since the heart was young and in a
boy's bosom, it set him whistling in less than five minutes. His mother
had said "thee" to him, and that was quite enough to make even a
dark day sunny. Hollanders do not address each other, in affectionate
intercourse, as the French and Germans do. But Dame Brinker had
embroidered for a Heidelberg family in her girlhood, and she had carried
its thee and thou into her rude home, to be used in moments of extreme
love and tenderness.

Therefore, "What keeps thee, Hans?" sang an echo song beneath the boy's
whistling and made him feel that his errand was blest.

Hans Has His Way

Broek, with its quiet, spotless streets, its frozen rivulets, its yellow
brick pavements and bright wooden houses, was nearby. It was a