Peter of New Amsterdam: A Story of Old New YorkOtis, James
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Peter of New Amsterdam: A Story of Old New York
Otis, James
New York (N.Y.) -- Juvenile fiction
You can well fancy that I did not neglect my work while thus looking
with contempt upon the goods before me. My duty was to make quick
despatch of the task set me, and at the same time take good heed that it
was done in such a manner as to win the approval, if not the praise, of
Master Minuit.
Many a long hour did I spend putting the childish things into the chest,
and in taking them out and exchanging for others, when those in company
with my master believed we were gathering too much of value, if indeed
there could be value to such goods. When it was done, I had the idea
that Master Minuit was pleased with me, for he said that from then on I
was to hold myself close to his person, going where he went, and
stopping where he stopped.
[Illustration]
I make but a poor attempt at telling the tale, otherwise I would have
said that when we were first come to anchor, some of those people who
had been sent over by the West India Company in advance of our ship,
came on board the _Sea Mew_ to speak with my master; and, as each in
turn was done with his business, or with his pleasure, as the case might
be, orders were given him that the savages be told they were to meet
Master Minuit on the shore nearby where we were then lying at anchor, to
the end that he might have speech with them.
It puzzled me not a little to understand how he could have speech with
the brown men, when they did not speak in the same tongue as did he; but
I had enough of wit to understand that it did not concern me. Master
Minuit most like had considered well the matter.
HANS BRAUN AND KRYN GILDERSLEEVE
[Illustration]
When I was done with my task, instead of going into the forward part of
the ship where I had lived from the time we left Amsterdam, my master
gave orders that I should remain nearby where were his own quarters, and
sent me with his other servants, of whom I have already told you
somewhat.
The elder, who might have been thirty years of age, was named Hans
Braun. He was as sour-visaged, square-jawed, thick-headed a Dutchman as
ever stepped foot in Holland; one who knew not the meaning of the word
friendship, and cared for his own comfort and his own pleasure more than
he did for the master he served, or for anything whatsoever.
When I came to have a good look at him, as he beckoned me to follow to
that portion of the ship where he and his mate found lodgings, I said to
myself that there at least was one in this New World who would never
lend a helping hand, and would not hesitate to do a wrong if thereby he
could compass his own ends.
The other servant was Kryn Gildersleeve, who, mayhap, was three or four
years my elder; a dull, heavy lad, who did not give promise of being a
cheerful comrade, and yet I would have put faith in him under the same
conditions that I would have suspected Hans of working me harm.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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