"Three cheers for home!" cried Van Mounen, as they came in sight of the great Western dock (Westelijk Dok). "Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted one and all. "Hurrah! Hurrah!" This trick of cheering was an importation among our party. Lambert van Mounen had brought it from England. As they always gave it in English, it was considered quite an exploit and, when circumstances permitted, always enthusiastically performed, to the sore dismay of their quiet-loving countrymen. Therefore, their arrival at Amsterdam created a great sensation, especially among the small boys on the wharfs. The Y was crossed. They were on the Broek canal. Lambert's home was reached first. "Good-bye, boys!" he cried, as he left them. "We've had the greatest frolic ever known in Holland." "So we have. Good-bye, Van Mounen!" answered the boys. "Good-bye!" Peter hailed him. "I say, Van Mounen, the classes begin to-morrow!" "I know it. Our holiday is over. Good-bye, again." "Good-bye!" Broek came in sight. Such meetings! Katrinka was on the canal! Carl was delighted. Hilda was there! Peter felt rested in an instant. Rychie was there! Ludwig and Jacob nearly knocked each other over in their eagerness to shake hands with her. Dutch girls are modest and generally quiet; but they have very glad eyes. For a few moments, it was hard to decide whether Hilda, Rychie or Katrinka felt the most happy. Annie Bouman was also on the canal, looking even prettier than the other maidens, in her graceful, peasant's costume. But she did not mingle with Rychie's party; neither did she look unusually happy. The one she liked most to see was not among the newcomers. Indeed he was not upon the canal at all. She had not been near Broek before, since the Eve of St. Nicholas, for she was staying with her sick grandmother in Amsterdam, and had been granted a brief resting-spell, as the grandmother called it, because she had been such a faithful little nurse night and day. Annie had devoted her resting-spell to skating with all her might toward Broek, and back again, in the hope of meeting her mother or some of her family on the canal, or, it might be, Gretel Brinker--Not one of them had she seen--and she must hurry back, without ever catching a glimpse of her mother's cottage--for the poor helpless grandmother, she knew, was by this time moaning for some one to turn her upon her cot. Where can Gretel be? thought Annie, as she flew over the ice; she can almost always steal a few moments from her work at this time of day--poor Gretel--what a dreadful thing it must be to have a dull father--I should be wofully afraid of him, I know--So strong, and yet so strange! Annie had not heard of his illness. Dame Brinker and her affairs received but little notice from the people of the place.