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Read Ebook: Hans Brinker; Or The Silver Skates by Dodge Mary Mapes Cooke Edna Illustrator
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Ebook has 548 lines and 23605 words, and 11 pages
Dame Brinker started forward. Hans caught her arm.
"Hist! mother," he whispered, hastily leading her away, "we must be very careful." Then while she stood with clasped hands waiting in breathless anxiety, he once more approached the cot. Trembling with eagerness he said:
"Yes, my boy. It was before daylight on the same day I was hurt. Jan Kamphuisen said something, the sundown before, that made me distrust his honesty. He was the only one living besides mother who knew we had saved a thousand guilders--so I rose up that night and buried the money--blockhead that I was ever to suspect an old friend!"
"I'll be bound, father," pursued Hans in a laughing voice, motioning to his mother and Gretel to remain quiet--"that you've forgotten where you buried it."
"Ha! ha! not I, indeed--but good-night, my son, I can sleep again."
Hans would have walked away, but his mother's gestures were not to be disobeyed--so he said gently:
"Good-night, father. Where did you say you buried the money? I was only a little one then."
"Close by the willow sapling behind the cottage," said Raff Brinker drowsily.
"Ah, yes. North side of the tree, wasn't it, father?"
"No, the south side. Ah, you know the spot well enough, you rogue--like enough you were there when your mother lifted it. Now, son--easy--shift this pillow--so. Good-night."
"Good-night, father!" said Hans, ready to dance for joy.
The moon rose very late that night, shining in, full and clear, at the little window; but its beams did not disturb Raff Brinker. He slept soundly, so did Gretel. As for Hans and his mother, they had something else to do.
After making a few hurried preparations, they stole forth with bright expectant faces, bearing a broken spade and a rusty implement that had done many a day's service when Raff was a hale worker on the dykes.
It was so light out of doors they could see the willow tree distinctly. The frozen ground was hard as stone, but Hans and his mother were resolute. Their only dread was that they might disturb the sleepers in the cottage.
"This ysbrekker is just the thing, mother," said Hans striking many a vigorous blow--"but the ground has set so firm it'll be a fair match for it."
"Never fear, Hans," she answered, watching him eagerly; "here, let me try a while."
They soon succeeded in making an impression; one opening, and the rest was not so difficult.
Still they worked on, taking turns and whispering cheerily to one another. Now and then Dame Brinker stepped noiselessly over the threshold and listened, to be certain that her husband slept.
"What grand news it will be for him," she said, laughing, "when he is strong enough to bear it. How I should like to put the pouch and the stocking, just as we find them, all full of money, near him this blessed night, for the dear man to see when he wakens."
"We must get them, first, mother," panted Hans, still tugging away at his work.
"There's no doubt of that. They can't slip away from us now," she answered, shivering with cold and excitement, as she crouched beside the opening. "Like enough we'll find them stowed in the old earthen pot I lost long ago."
Meantime the stars winked and blinked at each other as if to say, "Queer country, this Holland! How much we do see to be sure!"
"Strange that the dear father should have put it down so woeful deep," said Dame Brinker, in rather a provoked tone. "Ah, the ground was soft enough then, I warrant. How wise of him to mistrust Jan Kamphuisen, and Jan in full credit at the time. Little I thought that handsome fellow with his gay ways would ever go to jail! Now, Hans, let me take a turn--it's lighter work, d'ye see? the deeper we go. I'd be loath to kill the tree, Hans--will we harm it, think you?"
"I cannot say," he answered, gravely.
Hour after hour, mother and son worked on. The hole grew larger and deeper. Clouds began to gather in the sky, throwing elfish shadows as they passed. Not until moon and stars faded away and streaks of daylight began to appear, did Meitje Brinker and Hans look hopelessly into each other's face.
GLIMPSES
"He killed a stork, the wicked old wretch!" she would say to herself.
"She knows I am strong and fearless," thought Janzoon.
"How red and freckled and ugly he is!" was Annie's secret comment when she looked at him.
"How she stares, and stares!" thought Janzoon. "Well, I am a fine, weather-beaten fellow, anyway."
"Janzoon Kolp, you impudent boy, go right away from me!" Annie often said. "I don't want any of your company."
"Ha! ha!" laughed Janzoon to himself, "girls never say what they mean. I'll skate with her every chance I can get."
And so it came to pass that the pretty maid would not look up that morning when, skating homeward from Amsterdam, she became convinced that a great burly boy was coming down the canal, toward her.
"Good-morrow, Annie Bouman," said a pleasant voice.
"Good-morrow, Master Hans, I am right glad to meet you."
"Good-morrow again, Annie. There has been a great change at our house since you left."
"How so?" she exclaimed, opening her eyes very wide.
Hans, who had been in a great hurry, and rather moody, grew talkative and quite at leisure in Annie's sunshine.
Turning about, and skating slowly with her toward Broek, he told the good news of his father. Annie was so true a friend that he told her even of their present distress, of how money was needed, and how everything depended upon his obtaining work, and he could find nothing to do in the neighborhood.
All this was not said as a complaint, but just because she was looking at him, and really wished to know. He could not speak of last night's bitter disappointment, for that secret was not wholly his own.
"Good-bye, Annie!" he said at last. "The morning is going fast, and I must haste to Amsterdam and sell these skates. Mother must have money at once. Before nightfall I shall certainly find a job somewhere."
"Sell your new skates, Hans!" cried Annie; "you, the best skater around Broek! Why, the race is coming off in five days!"
"I know it," he answered resolutely. "Good-bye! I shall skate home again on the old wooden ones."
Such a bright glance! So different from Janzoon's ugly grin--and Hans was off like an arrow.
"Hans! come back," she called.
Her voice changed the arrow into a top. Spinning around, he darted, in one long, leaning sweep, toward her.
"Then you really are going to sell your new skates if you can find a customer."
"Of course I am," he replied looking up with a surprised smile.
"Not Janzoon Kolp?" asked Hans, flushing.
"Oh, no," she pouted, "he is not one of my friends."
Annie laughed. "Yes, I know him, and it's all the worse for him that I do. Now please, Hans, don't ever talk any more to me about Janzoon. I hate him!"
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