“Guert Ten Eyck, why do you try me thus?” demanded the fortune-teller, solemnly. “I knew your father, and I knew your mother; I knew your ancestors in Holland, and their children in America. Generations on generations have I known your people, and you are the first that I have seen so ill-clad! Do you suppose, boy, that old Doortje's eyes are getting dim, and that she cannot tell her own nation? I saw you on the river--ha! ha! 't was a pleasant sight--Jack and Moses, too; how they snorted, and how they galloped! Crack--crack--that's the ice--there comes the water!--See, that bridge may hit you on the head! Do _you_ take care of this bird, and do _you_ take care of _that_--and all will come round with the seasons. Answer me one thing, Guert Ten Eyck, and answer me truly. Know you ever a young man who goes quickly into the bush?” “I do, Mother; this young man, my friend, intends to go in a few days, or as soon as the weather is settled.” “Good! go you with him--absence makes a young woman know her own mind, when asking will gain nothing. Go you with him, I say; and if you hear muskets fired, go near them; _fear_ will sometimes make a young woman speak. You have your answer, and I will tell no more. Come hither, young owner of many half-joes, and touch that card.” “I did as ordered; when the woman began to mumble to herself, and to run over the pack as rapidly as she could. Kings, aces, and knaves were examined, one after another, until she had got the Queen of Hearts in her hand, which she held up to me in triumph. “That is _your_ lady. She is a queen of too many hearts! The Hudson did that for you, that it has done for many a poor man before you. Yes, yes; the river did you good: but water will drown, as well as make tears. Do _you_ beware of Knights Barrownights!” [31] Here Mother Doortje came to a dead stand in her communications, and not another syllable of any sort could either of us get from her; though, between us, as many as twenty questions were asked. Signs were made for us to depart; and when the woman found our reluctance, she laid a crown for each of us, on the table, with a dignified air, and went into a corner, seated herself, and began to rock her body, like one impatient of our presence. After so unequivocal a sign that she considered her work as done, we could not well do less than return; leaving the money behind us, as a matter of course.