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. Humph! if I look at him, thought Annie, I’ll-- “Good morrow, Annie Bouman,” said a pleasant voice. How a smile brightens a girl’s face! “Good morrow, Master Hans, I am right glad to meet you.” How a smile brightens a boy’s face! “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?” “Well, Hans, if you ARE going to sell your skates,” said Annie, quite confused, “I mean if you--well, I know somebody who would like to buy them, that’s all.” “Not Janzoon Kolp?” asked Hans, flushing. “Oh, no,” she said, pouting, “he is not one of my friends.” “But you KNOW him,” persisted Hans. 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!” “Hate him! YOU hate anybody, Annie?”