e 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 w