Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern — Volume 12
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Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern — Volume 12
Literature -- Collections
The chase turns in a cloud of mist. It is coming this way. Who is
hunted now? Mercury himself. It is Peter, Peter Van Holp! Fly, Peter!
Hans is watching you. He is sending all his fleetness, all his
strength, into your feet. Your mother and sister are pale with
eagerness. Hilda is trembling, and dare not look up, Fly, Peter! The
crowd has not gone deranged; it is only cheering. The pursuers are
close upon you. Touch the white column! It beckons; it is reeling
before you--it--
"Huzza! Huzza! Peter has won the silver skates!"
"PETER VAN HOLP!" shouted the crier. But who heard him? "Peter Van
Holp!" shouted a hundred voices; for he was the favorite boy of the
place. "Huzza! Huzza!"
Now the music was resolved to be heard. It struck up a lively air,
then a tremendous march. The spectators, thinking something new was
about to happen, deigned to listen and to look.
The racers formed in single file. Peter, being tallest, stood first.
Gretel, the smallest of all, took her place at the end. Hans, who had
borrowed a strap from the cake-boy, was near the head.
Three gayly twined arches were placed at intervals upon the river,
facing the Van Gleck pavilion.
Skating slowly, and in perfect time to the music, the boys and girls
moved forward, led on by Peter, It was beautiful to see the bright
procession glide along like a living creature. It curved and doubled,
and drew its graceful length in and out among the arches; whichever
way Peter, the head, went, the body was sure to follow. Sometimes it
steered direct for the centre arch; then, as if seized with a new
impulse, turned away and curled itself about the first one; then
unwound slowly, and bending low, with quick snake-like curvings,
crossed the river, passing at length through the farthest arch.
When the music was slow, the procession seemed to crawl like a thing
afraid; it grew livelier, and the creature darted forward with a
spring, gliding rapidly among the arches, in and out, curling,
twisting, turning, never losing form, until at the shrill call of the
bugle rising above the music it suddenly resolved itself into boys and
girls, standing in double semicircle before Madame Van Gleck's
pavilion.
Peter and Gretel stand in the centre, in advance of the others. Madame
Van Gleck rises majestically. Gretel trembles, but feels that she
must look at the beautiful lady. She cannot hear what is said, there
is such a buzzing all around her. She is thinking that she ought to
try and make a courtesy, such as her mother makes to the _meester_,
when suddenly something so dazzling is placed in her hand that she
gives a cry of joy.
Then she ventures to look about her. Peter too has something in his
hands. "Oh, oh! how splendid!" she cries; and "Oh! how splendid!" is
echoed as far as people can see.
Meantime the silver skates flash in the sunshine, throwing dashes of
light upon those two happy faces.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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