Hans Brinker; Or, The Silver SkatesDodge, Mary Mapes
History
Hans Brinker; Or, The Silver Skates
Dodge, Mary Mapes
Netherlands -- History -- 19th century -- Juvenile fiction; Siblings -- Juvenile fiction; Skating -- Juvenile fiction
First a hearty dinner--then the game. With pins as long as their arms,
and balls as big as their heads, plenty of strength left for rolling,
and a clean sweep of sixty yards for the strokes--no wonder they were
happy.
That night Captain Peter and his men slept soundly. No prowling robber
came to disturb them; and, as they were distributed in separate rooms,
they did not even have a bolster-battle in the morning.
Such a breakfast as they ate! The landlord looked frightened. When he
had asked them where they "belonged," he made up his mind that the Broek
people starved their children. It was a shame, "such fine young
gentlemen, too!"
Fortunately the wind had tired itself out, and fallen asleep in the
great sea-cradle beyond the Dunes. There were signs of snow; otherwise,
the weather was fine.
It was mere child's-play for the well-rested boys to skate to Leyden.
Here they halted a while, for Peter had an errand at the "Golden Eagle."
He left the city with a lightened heart; Dr. Boekman had been at the
hotel, read the note containing Hans' message, and departed for Broek.
"I cannot say it was your letter sent him off so soon," explained the
landlord; "some rich lady in Broek was taken bad very sudden, and he
was sent for in haste."
Peter turned pale.
"What was the name?" he asked.
"Indeed, it went in one ear, and out of the other--for all I hindered
it. Plague to people who can't see a traveler in comfortable lodgings,
but they must whisk him off, before one can breathe."
"A lady in Broek, did you say?"
"Yes," very gruffly; "and other business, young master?"
"No, mine host--except that I and my comrades here would like a bite of
something, and a drink of hot coffee."
"Ah," said the landlord, sweetly, "a bite you shall have, and coffee
too, the finest in Leyden. Walk up to the stove, my masters--now I think
again--that was a widow lady--from Rotterdam, I think they
said--visiting at one Van Stoepel's if I mistake not."
"Ah!" said Peter, greatly relieved. "They live in the white house by the
Schlossen Mill--now, mynheer, the coffee, please!"
"What a goose I was," thought he, as the party left the Golden Eagle,
"to feel so sure it was my mother--but she may be somebody's mother,
poor woman, for all that. Who can she be, I wonder?"
There were not many upon the canal that day, between Leyden and Haarlem.
However, as the boys neared Amsterdam, they found themselves once more
in the midst of a moving throng. The big _Ysbreeker_[28]
[Footnote 28: Ice-breaker--A heavy machine armed with iron spikes for
breaking the ice as it is dragged along. Some of the small ones are
worked by men--but the large ones are drawn by horses--sixty or seventy
of which are sometimes attached to one Ysbreeker.] had been at work for
the first time that season, but there was any amount of skating ground
left yet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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