anding side by side, awaited his instructions.

Hans Vanderbum had provided himself with a long pole, and stood by a
sandy portion of ground, upon which he had no difficulty in tracing
what letters and characters he wished. With due preparation and
importance he marked out the first letter of the German alphabet, and
then, straightening himself up, demanded in a thundering tone "vot dat
was." His two sons looked mute and dumbfounded. They had not the
remotest idea in the world of its name and significance. For over
three months the patient father had instructed them daily in regard to
this character, and the two together must have repeated it several
thousand times. But, it mattered not; neither had any conception now
of it, and their looks showed such unmistakably to their instructor.

"Dunder and blixen, vot Dutch Indians!" he exclaimed, impatiently.
Repeating its name, he again demanded "vot dat was." This time they
answered readily, and his eyes sparkled with pleasure.

"Shmart boys," said he, approvingly. "You learns well, now. One dese
days--"

Hans Vanderbum's words were cut short by the sudden sharp explosion of
his pipe, the bowl being shattered in a hundred pieces, while nothing
but the stem remained in his mouth.

"Where's mine pipe?" he asked, looking around in the vain hope of
descrying it somewhere upon the ground. Quanonshet and Madokawandock
indulged in one short scream of laughter, then instantly straightened
their faces and looked as meek and innocent as lambs. Gradually the
truth began to work its way into the head of Hans. Looking sternly at
the two, he asked, in a threatening voice:

"Which of you put dat powder in mine meerschaum, eh? which of you done
dat, eh?"

Neither answered, except by hanging their heads and looking at their
bare feet.

"I axes you once more, and dis is de last time."

Each now protested that it was not himself but the other, so that if
there really were but one culprit, Hans had no means of determining.
Under the circumstances, he concluded the safest plan was to believe
both guilty. Accordingly he made a sudden dash and commenced whacking
them soundly with the stick he held in his hand. They yelled, kicked,
and screamed; and squirming themselves loose, scampered quickly away
from their irate instructor.

"Dat meerschaum can't be fixed," he soliloquized, taking the bare stem
out of his mouth and looking sorrowfully at it. "'Cause dere ishn't
anythi