Therefore his frank "Well now, this is pleasant," as he shook hands with them all, made the boys feel quite at home and as happy as squirrels. There were fine paintings in the drawing-room and exquisite statuary, and portfolios filled with rare Dutch engravings; besides many beautiful and curious things from China and Japan. The boys felt that it would require a month to examine all the treasures of the apartment. Ben noticed with pleasure English books lying upon the table. He saw also over the carved, upright piano, life-sized portraits of William of Orange and his English queen, a sight that, for a time, brought England and Holland side by side in his heart. William and Mary have left a halo round the English throne to this day, he the truest patriot that ever served an adopted country, she the noblest wife that ever sat upon a British throne, up to the time of Victoria and Albert the Good. As Ben looked at the pictures, he remembered accounts he had read of King William's visit to the Hague in the winter of 1691. He who sang the Battle of Ivry had not yet told the glowing story of that day, but Ben knew enough of it, to fancy that he could almost hear the shouts of the delighted populace as he looked from the portraits to the street, which at this moment was aglow with a bonfire, kindled in a neighboring square. That royal visit was one never to be forgotten. For two years William of Orange had been monarch of a foreign land, his head working faithfully for England, but his whole heart yearning for Holland. Now when he sought its shores once more, the entire nation bade him welcome. Multitudes flocked to the Hague to meet him--"many thousands came sliding or skating along the frozen canals from Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Leyden, Haarlem, Delft."[24] All day long the festivities of the capital were kept up, the streets were gorgeous with banners, evergreen arches, trophies, and mottoes of welcome and emblems of industry. William saw the deeds of his ancestors and scenes of his own past life depicted on banners and tapestries along the streets. At night, superb fireworks were displayed upon the ice. Its glassy surface was like a mirror. Sparkling fountains of light sprang up from below to meet the glittering cascades leaping upon it. Then a feathery fire of crimson and green shook millions of rubies and emeralds, into the ruddy depths of the ice--and all this time the people were shouting--God bless William of Orange--long live the King! They were half mad with joy and enthusiasm. William their own prince, their stadtholder, had become the ruler of three kingdoms; he had been victorious in council and in war, and now in his hour of greatest triumph, had come as a simple guest to visit them. The king heard their shouts with a beating heart. It is a great thing to be beloved by one's country. His English courtiers complimented him upon his reception. "Yes," said he, "but the shouting is nothing to what it