hans brinker-第20节

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〃What　are　the　Blue　Stairs；　Lambert？〃　asked　Ben。

〃They　are　the　highest　point　of　the　Dunes。　　You　have　a　grand　view　of　the　ocean　from　there；　besides　a　fine　chance　to　see　how　wonderful　these　dunes　are。　　One　can　hardly　believe　that　the　wind　could　ever　heap　up　sand　in　so　remarkable　a　way。　　But　we　have　to　go　through　Bloemendal　to　get　there；　not　a　very　pretty　village；　and　some　distance　from　here。　　What　do　you　say？〃

〃Oh；　I　am　ready　for　anything。　　For　my　part；　I　would　rather　steer　direct　for　Leyden；　but　we'll　do　as　the　captain　sayshey；　Jacob？〃

〃Ya；　dat　ish　goot；〃　said　Jacob；　who　felt　decidedly　more　like　taking　a　nap　than　ascending　the　Blue　Stairs。

The　captain　was　in　favor　of　going　to　Leyden。

〃It's　four　long　miles　from　here。　　Full　sixteen　of　your　English　miles；　Benjamin。　　We　have　no　time　to　lose　if　you　wish　to　reach　there　before　midnight。　　Decide　quickly；　boysBlue　Stairs　or　Leyden？〃

〃Leyden；〃　they　answered；　and　were　out　of　Haarlem　in　a　twinkling；　admiring　the　lofty；　towerlike　windmills　and　pretty　country　seats　as　they　left　the　city　behind　them。

〃If　you　really　wish　to　see　Haarlem；〃　said　Lambert　to　Ben；　after　they　had　skated　awhile　in　silence；　〃you　should　visit　it　in　summer。　　It　is　the　greatest　place　in　the　world　for　beautiful　flowers。　　The　walks　around　the　city　are　superb；　and　the　'wood'　with　its　miles　of　noble　elms；　all　in　full　feather；　is　something　to　remember。　　You　need　not　smile；　old　fellow；　at　my　saying　'full　feather。'　　I　was　thinking　of　waving　plumes　and　got　my　words　mixed　up　a　little。　　But　a　Dutch　elm　beats　everything；　it　is　the　noblest　tree　on　earth；　Benif　you　except　the　English　oak。〃

〃Aye；〃　said　Ben　solemnly；　〃IF　you　except　the　English　oak。〃　　And　for　some　moments　he　could　scarcely　see　the　canal　because　Robby　and　Jenny　kept　bobbing　in　the　air　before　his　eyes。




Friends　in　Need



In　the　meantime；　the　other　boys　were　listening　to　Peter's　account　of　an　incident　which　had　occurred　long　ago　*｛Sir　Thomas　Carr's　tour　through　Holland。｝　in　a　part　of　the　city　where　stood　an　ancient　castle；　whose　lord　had　tyrannized　over　the　burghers　of　the　town　to　such　an　extent　that　they　surrounded　his　castle　and　laid　siege　to　it。　　Just　at　the　last　extremity；　when　the　haughty　lord　felt　that　he　could　hold　out　no　longer　and　was　prepared　to　sell　his　life　as　dearly　as　possible；　his　lady　appeared　on　the　ramparts　and　offered　to　surrender　everything；　provided　she　was　permitted　to　bring　out；　and　retain；　as　much　of　her　most　precious　household　goods　as　she　could　carry　upon　her　back。　　The　promise　was　given；　and　the　lady　came　forth　from　the　gateway；　bearing　her　husband　upon　her　shoulders。　　The　burghers'　pledge　preserved　him　from　the　fury　of　the　troops　but　left　them　free　to　wreak　their　vengeance　upon　the　castle。

〃Do　you　BELIEVE　that　story；　Captain　Peter？〃　asked　Carl　in　an　incredulous　tone。

〃Of　course；　I　do。　　It　is　historical。　　Why　should　I　doubt　it？〃

〃Simply　because　no　woman　could　do　itand　if　she　could；　she　wouldn't。　　That　is　my　opinion。〃

〃And　I　believe　that　there　are　many　who　WOULD。　　That　is；　to　save　those　they　really　cared　for；〃　said　Ludwig。

Jacob；　who　in　spite　of　his　fat　and　sleepiness　was　of　rather　a　sentimental　turn；　had　listened　with　deep　interest。

〃That　is　right；　little　fellow；〃　he　said；　nodding　his　head　approvingly。　　〃I　believe　every　word　of　it。　　I　shall　never　marry　a　woman　who　would　not　be　glad　to　do　as　much　for　ME。〃

〃Heaven　help　her！〃　cried　Carl；　turning　to　gaze　at　the　speaker。　　〃Why；　Poot；　three　MEN　couldn't　do　it！〃

〃Perhaps　not；〃　said　Jacob　quietly；　feeling　that　he　had　asked　rather　too　much　of　the　future　Mrs。　Poot。　　〃But　she　must　be　WILLING；　that　is　all。〃

〃Aye；〃　responded　Peter's　cheery　voice；　〃willing　heart　makes　nimble　footand　who　knows；　but　it　may　make　strong　arms　also。〃

〃Pete；〃　asked　Ludwig；　changing　the　subject；　〃did　you　tell　me　last　night　that　the　painter　Wouwerman　was　born　in　Haarlem？〃

〃Yes；　and　Jacob　Ruysdael　and　Berghem　too。　　I　like　Berghem　because　he　was　always　good…natured。　　They　say　he　always　sang　while　he　painted；　and　though　he　died　nearly　two　hundred　years　ago；　there　are　traditions　still　afloat　concerning　his　pleasant　laugh。　　He　was　a　great　painter；　and　he　had　a　wife　as　cross　as　Xantippe。〃

〃They　balanced　each　other　finely；〃　said　Ludwig。　　〃He　was　kind　and　she　was　cross。　　But；　Peter；　before　I　forget　it；　wasn't　that　picture　of　Saint　Hubert　and　the　horse　painted　by　Wouwerman？　　You　remember；　Father　showed　us　an　engraving　from　it　last　night。〃

〃Yes；　indeed。　　There　is　a　story　connected　with　that　picture。〃

〃Tell　us！〃　cried　two　or　three；　drawing　closer　to　Peter　as　they　skated　on。

〃Wouwerman；〃　began　the　captain　oratorically；　〃was　born　in　1620；　just　four　years　before　Berghem。　　He　was　a　master　of　his　art　and　especially　excelled　in　painting　horses。　　Strange　as　it　may　seem；　people　were　so　long　finding　out　his　merits　that；　even　after　he　had　arrived　at　the　height　of　his　excellence；　he　was　obliged　to　sell　his　pictures　for　very　paltry　prices。　　The　poor　artist　became　completely　discouraged；　and；　worst　of　all；　was　over　head　and　ears　in　debt。　　ne　day　he　was　talking　over　his　troubles　with　his　father…confessor；　who　was　one　of　the　few　who　recognized　his　genius。　　The　priest　determined　to　assist　him　and　accordingly　lent　him　six　hundred　guilders；　advising　him　at　the　same　time　to　demand　a　better　price　for　his　pictures。　　Wouwerman　did　so；　and　in　the　meantime　paid　his　debts。　　Matters　brightened　with　him　at　once。　　Everybody　appreciated　the　great　artist　who　painted　such　costly　pictures。　　He　grew　rich。　　The　six　hundred　guilders　were　returned；　and　in　gratitude　Wouwerman　sent　also　a　work　which　he　had　painted；　representing　his　benefactor　as　Saint　Hubert　kneeling　before　his　horsethe　very　picture；　Ludwig；　of　which　we　were　speaking　last　night。〃

〃So！　so！〃　exclaimed　Ludwig；　with　deep　interest。　　〃I　must　take　another　look　at　the　engraving　as　soon　as　we　get　home。〃


At　that　same　hour；　while　Ben　was　skating　with　his　companions　beside　the　Holland　dike；　Robby　and　Jenny　stood　in　their　pretty　English　schoolhouse；　ready　to　join　in　the　duties　of　their　reading　class。

〃Commence！　　Master　Robert　Dobbs；〃　said　the　teacher；　〃page　242。　　Now；　sir；　mind　every　stop。〃

And　Robby；　in　a　quick　childish　voice；　roared　forth　at　schoolroom　pitch；　〃Lesson　62。　　The　Hero　of　Haarlem。　　Many　years　ago；　there　lived　in　Haarlem；　one　of　the　principal　cities　of　Holland；　a　sunny…haired　boy　of　gentle　disposition。　　His　father　was　a　sluicer；　that　is；　a　man　whose　business　it　was　to　open　and　close　the　sluices；　or　large　oaken　gates；　that　are　placed　at　regular　distances　across　the　entrances　of　the　canals；　to　regulate　the　amount　of　water　that　shall　flow　into　them。

〃The　sluicer　raises　the　gates　more　or　less　according　to　the　quantity　of　water　required；　and　closes　them　carefully　at　night；　in　order　to　avoid　all　possible　danger　of　an　oversupply　running　into　the　canal；　or　the　water　would　soon　overflow　it　and　inundate　the　surrounding　country。　　As　a　great　portion　of　Holland　is　lower　than　the　level　of　the　sea；　the　waters　are　kept　from　flooding　the　land　only　by　means　of　strong　dikes；　or　barriers；　and　by　means　of　these　sluices；　which　are　often　strained　to　the　utmost　by　the　pressure　of　the　rising　tides。　　Even　the　little　children　in　Holland　know　that　constant　watchfulness　is　required　to　keep　the　rivers　and　ocean　from　overwhelming　the　country；　and　that　a　moment's　neglect　of　the　sluicer's　duty　may　bring　ruin　and　death　to　all。〃

〃Very　good；〃　said　the　teacher。　　〃Now；　Susan。〃

〃One　lovely　autumn　afternoon；　when　the　boy　was　about　eight　years　old；　he　obtained　his　parents'　consent　to　carry　some　cakes　to　a　blind　man　who　lived　out　in　the　country；　on　the　other　side　of　the　dike。　　The　little　fellow　started　on　his　errand　with　a　light　heart；　and　having　spent　an　hour　with　his　grateful　old　friend；　he　bade　him　farewell　and　started　on　his　homeward　walk。

〃Trudging　stoutly　along　the　canal；　he　noticed　how　the　autumn　rains　had　swollen　the　waters。　　Even　while　humming　his　careless；　childish　song；　he　thought　of　his　father's　brave　old　gates　and　felt　glad　of　their　strength；　for；　thought　he；　'If　THEY　gave　way；　where　would　Father　and　Mother　be？　　These　pretty　fields　would　all　be　covered　with　the　angry　watersFather　always　calls　them　the　ANGRY　waters。　　I　suppose　he　thinks　they　are　mad　at　him　for　keeping　them　out　so　long。'　　And　with　these　thoughts　just　flitting　across　his　brain；　the　little　fellow　stooped　to　pick　the　pretty　flowers　that　grew　along　his　way。　　Sometimes　he　stopped　to　throw　some　feathery　seed　ball　in　the　air　and　watch　it　as　it　floated　away；　sometimes　he　listened　to　the　stealthy　rustling　of　a　rabbit；　speeding　through　the　grass；　but　oftener　he　smiled　as　he　recalled　the　happy　light　he　had　seen　arise　on　the　weary；　listening　face　of　his　blind　old　friend。〃

〃Now；　Henry；〃　said　the　teacher；　nodding　to　the　next　little　reader。

〃Suddenly　the　boy　looked　around　him　in　dismay。　　He　had　not　noticed　that　the　sun　was　setting。　　Now　he　saw　that　his　long　shadow　on　the　grass　had　vanished。　　It　was　growing　dark；　he　was　still　some　distance　from　home；　and　in　a　lonely　ravine；　where　even　the　blue　flowers　had　turned　to　gray。　　He　quickened　his　footsteps　and；　with　a　beating　heart　recalled　many　a　nursery　tale　of　children　belated　in　dreary　forests。　　Just　as　he　was　bracing　himself　for　a　run；　he　was　startl