XLV
JOY IN THE COTTAGE
Perhaps you were surprised to learn that Raff and his vrouw were at theskating-race; you would have been more so had you been with them on theevening of that merry 20th of December. To see the Brinker cottagestanding sulkily alone on the frozen marsh, with its bulgy,rheumatic-looking walls, and its slouched hat of a roof pulled far overits eyes, one would never suspect that a lively scene was passingwithin. Without, nothing was left of the day but a low line of blaze atthe horizon. A few venturesome clouds had already taken fire, andothers, with their edges burning, were lost in the gathering smoke.
A stray gleam of sunshine slipping down from the willow stump creptstealthily under the cottage. It seemed to feel that the inmates wouldgive it welcome if it could only get near them. The room under which ithid was as clean as clean could be. The very cracks in the rafters werepolished. Delicious odors filled the air. A huge peat fire upon thehearth sent flashes of harmless lightning at the sombre walls. It playedin turn upon the great leathern Bible, upon Gretel's closet-bed, thehousehold things on their pegs, and the beautiful Silver Skates and theflowers upon the table. Dame Brinker's honest face shone and twinkled inthe changing light. Gretel and Hans, with arms entwined, were leaningagainst the fireplace, laughing merrily, and Raff Brinker was dancing!
I do not mean that he was pirouetting or cutting a pigeon-wing, eitherof which would have been entirely too undignified for the father of afamily; I simply affirm that while they were chatting pleasantlytogether Raff suddenly sprang from his seat, snapped his fingers andperformed two or three flourishes very much like the climax of aHighland Fling. Next he caught his vrouw in his arms and fairly liftedher from the ground in his delight.
"Huzza!" he cried, "I have it! I have it! It's THOMAS HIGGS. That's thename! It came upon me like a flash; write it down, lad, write it down!"
Some one knocked at the door.
"It's the meester," cried the delighted dame. "Goede Gunst! how thingscome to pass!"
Mother and children came in merry collision as they rushed to open thedoor.
It was not the doctor, after all, but three boys, Peter van Holp,Lambert and Ben.
"Good-evening, young gentlemen," said Dame Brinker, so happy and proudthat she would scarce have been surprised at a visit from the Kinghimself.
"Good-evening, jufvrouw," said the trio, making magnificent bows.
"Dear me!" thought Dame Brinker as she bobbed up and down like a churndasher, "it's lucky I learned to curtsey at Heidelberg!"
Raff was content to return the boys' salutations with a respectful nod.
"Pray be seated, young masters," said the dame, as Gretel bashfullythrust a stool toward them. "There's a lack of chairs as you see, butthis one by the fire is at your service, and if you don't mind thehardness, that oak-chest is as good a seat as the best. That's right,Hans, pull it out."
By the time the boys were seated to the dame's satisfaction, Peter,acting as spokesman, had explained that they were going to attend alecture at Amsterdam, and had stopped on the way to return Hans' strap.
"Oh, mynheer," cried Hans earnestly, "it is too much trouble. I am verysorry."
"No trouble at all, Hans. I could have waited for you to come to yourwork to-morrow, had I not wished to call. And, Hans, talking of yourwork, my father is much pleased with it; a carver by trade could nothave done it better. He would like to have the south arbor ornamentedalso, but I told him you were going to school again."
"Aye!" put in Raff Brinker, emphatically, "Hans must go to school atonce--and Gretel as well--that is true."
"I am glad to hear you say so," responded Peter, turning toward thefather, "and very glad to know that you are again a well man."
"Yes, young master, a well man, and able to work as steady asever--thank God!"
[Here Hans hastily wrote something on the edge of a time-worn almanacthat hung by the chimney-place.] "Aye, that's right, lad, set it down.Figgs! Wiggs! Alack! Alack!" added Raff in great dismay, "it's goneagain!"
"All right, father," said Hans, "the name's down now in black and white.Here, look at it, father; mayhap the rest will come to you. If we hadthe place as well, it would be complete;" then turning to Peter, hesaid in a low tone, "I have an important errand in town, mynheer, andif----"
"Wist!" exclaimed the dame, lifting her hands, "not to Amsterdamto-night, and you've owned your legs were aching under you. Nay,nay--it'll be soon enough to go at early daylight."
"Daylight indeed!" echoed Raff, "that would never do. Nay, Meitje, hemust go this hour."
The vrouw looked for an instant as if Raff's recovery was becomingrather a doubtful benefit; her word was no longer sole law in the house.Fortunately, the proverb, "Humble wife is husband's boss," had takendeep root in her mind; even as the dame pondered, it bloomed.
"Very well, Raff," she said smilingly, "it is thy boy as well as mine.Ah! I've a troublesome house, young masters."
Just then Peter drew a long strap from his pocket.
Handing it to Hans he said in an undertone, "I need not thank you forlending me this, Hans Brinker. Such boys as you do not ask forthanks--but I must say you did me a great kindness, and I am proud toacknowledge it. I did not know," he added, laughingly, "until fairly inthe race, how anxious I was to win."
Hans was glad to join in Peter's laugh--it covered his embarrassment andgave his face a chance to cool off a little. Honest, generous boys likeHans have such a stupid way of blushing when you least expect it.
"It was nothing, mynheer," said the dame, hastening to her son's relief;"the lad's whole soul was in having you win the race, I know it was!"
This helped matters beautifully.
"Ah, mynheer," Hans hurried to say, "from the first start I felt stiffand strange on my feet; I was well out of it so long as I had no chanceof winning."
Peter looked rather distressed.
"We may hold different opinions there. That part of the businesstroubles me. It is too late to mend it now, but it would be really akindness to me if----"
The rest of Peter's speech was uttered so confidentially that I cannotrecord it. Enough to say, Hans soon started back in dismay, and Peter,looking very much ashamed, stammered out something to the effect that hewould keep them, since he won the race, but it was "all wrong."
Here Van Mounen coughed, as if to remind Peter that lecture-hour wasapproaching fast. At the same moment Ben laid something upon the table.
"Ah," exclaimed Peter, "I forgot my other errand. Your sister ran off soquickly to-day, that Madame van Gleck had no opportunity to give her thecase for her skates."
"S-s-t!" said Dame Brinker, shaking her head reproachfully at Gretel,"she was a very rude girl I'm sure." [Secretly, she was thinking thatvery few women had such a fine little daughter.]
"No, indeed," laughed Peter, "she did exactly the right thing--ran homewith her richly won treasures--who would not? Don't let us detain you,Hans," he continued turning around as he spoke; but Hans, who waseagerly watching the father, seemed to have forgotten their presence.
Meantime, Raff, lost in thought was repeating under his breath, "ThomasHiggs--Thomas Higgs, aye, that's the name. Alack! if I could but tellthe place as well."
The skate-case was elegantly made of crimson morocco, ornamented withsilver. If a fairy had breathed upon its tiny key, or Jack Frost himselfdesigned its delicate tracery, they could not have been more daintilybeautiful. FOR THE FLEETEST was written upon the cover in sparklingletters. It was lined with velvet, and in one corner was stamped thename and address of the maker.
Gretel thanked Peter in her own simple way; then, being quite delightedand confused, and not knowing what else to do, lifted the case,carefully examining it in every part. "It's made by Mynheer Birmingham,"she said after a while, still blushing and holding it before her eyes.
"Birmingham!" replied Lambert van Mounen, "that's the name of a place inEngland. Let me see it.
"Ha! ha!" he laughed, holding the open case toward the firelight,
"nowonder you thought so; but it's a slight mistake. The case was made atBirmingham, but the maker's name is in smaller letters. Humph! they'reso small, I can't read them."
"Let me try," said Peter, leaning over his shoulder. "Why, man, it'sperfectly distinct. It's T--H--it's T----"
"Well!" exclaimed Lambert, triumphantly, "if you can read it so easily,let's hear it, T--H, what?"
"T. H--T. H. Oh! why, Thomas Higgs, to be sure," replied Peter, pleasedto be able to decipher it at last. Then, feeling they had been behavingrather unceremoniously, he turned toward Hans--
Peter turned pale! What was the matter with the people? Raff and Hanshad started up, and were staring at him, in glad amazement. Gretellooked wild. Dame Brinker, with an unlighted candle in her hand, wasrushing about the room, crying, "Hans! Hans! where's your hat? oh, themeester! Oh, the meester!"
"Birmingham! Higgs!" exclaimed Hans. "Did you say Higgs? we've foundhim! I must be off."
"You see, young masters," panted the dame, at the same time snatchingHans' hat from the bed, "you see--we know him--he's our--no, he isn't--Imean--oh, Hans, you must go to Amsterdam this minute!"
"Good-night, mynheers," panted Hans, radiant with sudden joy,"good-night--you will excuse me, I must go.Birmingham--Higgs--Higgs--Birmingham," and seizing his hat from hismother, and his skates from Gretel, he rushed from the cottage.
What could the boys think, but that the entire Brinker family hadsuddenly gone crazy!
They bade an embarrassed "good-evening," and turned to go. But Raffstopped them.
"This Thomas Higgs, young masters, is a--a person."
"Ah!" exclaimed Peter, quite sure that Raff was the most crazy of all.
"Yes--a person--a--ahem!--a friend. We thought him dead. I hope it isthe same man. In England, did you say?"
"Yes, Birmingham," answered Peter; "it must be Birmingham in England."
"I know the man," said Ben, addressing Lambert. "His factory is not fourmiles from our place--a queer fellow--still as an oyster--don't seem atall like an Englishman. I've often seen him--a solemn-looking chap, withmagnificent eyes. He made a beautiful writing-case once for me to giveJenny on her birthday--makes pocketbooks, telescope-cases, and allkinds of leather work."
As this was said in English, Van Mounen of course translated it for thebenefit of all concerned, noticing meanwhile that neither Raff nor hisvrouw looked very miserable though Raff was trembling, and the dame'seyes were swimming with tears.
You may believe the doctor heard every word of the story, when later inthe evening he came driving back with Hans. "The three young gentlemenhad been gone sometime," Dame Brinker said, "but like enough, byhurrying, it would be easy to find them coming out from the Lecture,wherever that was."
"True," said Raff, nodding his head, "the vrouw always hits upon theright thing. It would be well to see the young English gentleman,mynheer, before he forgets all about Thomas Higgs--it's a slippery name,d'ye see?--one can't hold it safe a minute. It come upon me sudden andstrong as a pile-driver, and my boy writ it down. Aye, mynheer, I'dhaste to talk with the English lad; he's seen your son many a time--onlyto think on't!"
Dame Brinker took up the thread of the discourse.
"You'll pick out the lad quick enough, mynheer, because he's in companywith Master Peter van Holp; and his hair curls all up over his foreheadlike foreign folk's, and, if you hear him speak, he talks kind of bigand fast, only it's English; but that wouldn't be any hindrance to yourhonor."
The doctor had already lifted his hat to go. With a beaming face, hemuttered something about its being just like the young scamp to givehimself a rascally English name; called Hans "my son"--thereby makingthat young gentleman happy as a lord--and left the cottage with verylittle ceremony, considering what a great meester he was.
* * * * *
The grumbling coachman comforted himself by speaking his mind, as hedrove back to Amsterdam. Since the doctor was safely stowed away in thecoach, and could not hear a word, it was a fine time to say terriblethings of folks who hadn't no manner of feeling for nobody, and who werealways wanting the horses a dozen times of a night.
Hans Brinker; Or, The Silver Skates Page 48