d itself about the first one; then
unwound slowly, and bending low, with quick snake-like curvings,
crossed the river, passing at length through the farthest arch.

When the music was slow, the procession seemed to crawl like a thing
afraid; it grew livelier, and the creature darted forward with a
spring, gliding rapidly among the arches, in and out, curling,
twisting, turning, never losing form, until at the shrill call of the
bugle rising above the music it suddenly resolved itself into boys and
girls, standing in double semicircle before Madame Van Gleck's
pavilion.

Peter and Gretel stand in the centre, in advance of the others. Madame
Van Gleck rises majestically. Gretel trembles, but feels that she
must look at the beautiful lady. She cannot hear what is said, there
is such a buzzing all around her. She is thinking that she ought to
try and make a courtesy, such as her mother makes to the _meester_,
when suddenly something so dazzling is placed in her hand that she
gives a cry of joy.

Then she ventures to look about her. Peter too has something in his
hands. "Oh, oh! how splendid!" she cries; and "Oh! how splendid!" is
echoed as far as people can see.

Meantime the silver skates flash in the sunshine, throwing dashes of
light upon those two happy faces.

"Mevrouw Van Gend sends a little messenger with her bouquets,--one for
Hilda, one for Carl, and others for Peter and Gretel."

At sight of the flowers, the Queen of the Skaters becomes
uncontrollable. With a bright stare of gratitude, she gathers skates
and bouquet in her apron, hugs them to her bosom, and darts off to
search for her father and mother in the scattering crowd.

JOHN DONNE

(1573-1631)

[Illustration: JOHN DONNE]

"The memory of Dr. Donne must not, cannot die, as long as men speak
English," wrote Izaak Walton, "whilst his conversation made him and
others happy. His life ought to be the example of more than that age
in which he died."

Born in 1573, all the influences of the age in which Donne lived
nourished his large nature and genius. Shakespeare and Marlowe were
nine years older than he; Chapman fourteen; Spenser, Lyly, and Richard
Hooker each twenty; while Sir Philip Sidney counted one year less.
Lodge and Puttenham were grown men, and Greene and Nash riotous boys.
In the following year Ben Jonson "came forth to warm our ears," and
soon after we have his future co-worker Inigo Jones. It was the time
of a multitude of poe