ercy 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,