Our Little Dutch and Belgian Twins by Libraries of Hope

Our Little Dutch and Belgian Twins Volume 14

Lucy Fitch Perkins

Libraries of Hope

Our Little Dutch and Belgian Twins Volume 14 Copyright ÂŠ 2020 by Libraries of Hope, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission of the publisher. International rights and foreign translations available only through permission of the publisher. The Dutch Twins, by Lucy Fitch Perkins. (Original copyright 1911) The Belgian Twins, by Lucy Fitch Perkins. (Original copyright 1917) Cover Image: Conversation Intime, by Evariste Carpentier (c. 1892). In public domain, source Wikimedia Commons. Libraries of Hope, Inc. Appomattox, Virginia 24522

Website www.librariesofhope.com Email: librariesofhope@gmail.com Printed in the United States of America

Contents The Dutch Twins.......................................................... 1 Kit and Kat ................................................................. 6 The Day They Went Fishing ..................................... 8 Market Day with Father .......................................... 25 Mother’s Day ............................................................ 47 One Sunday .............................................................. 71 The Day They Drove the Milk Cart ....................... 98 The Day They Got Their Skates ........................... 115 The Belgian Twins .................................................... 161 Preface..................................................................... 165 The Harvest Field .................................................. 167 The Rumors ............................................................ 178 The Alarm .............................................................. 186 “For King, for Law and Liberty” ............................ 193 Doing a Man’s Work .............................................. 199 At the Church ........................................................ 210 The Tidal Wave of Germans ................................. 217 i

Granny and the Eels ...............................................230 Off for Antwerp ......................................................248 On the Towpath .....................................................263 The Attack ..............................................................276 The Zeppelin Raid ..................................................291 Refugees ..................................................................301 The Most Wonderful Part ......................................312

The Dutch Twins Lucy Fitch Perkins Illustrated by Lucy Fitch Perkins

To Lawrence and other children.

Kit and Kat This is a picture of Kit and Kat. They are twins, and they live in Holland. Kit is the boy, and Kat is the girl. Of course their real names are not Kit and Kat at all. Their real names are Christopher and Katrina. But you can see for yourself that such long names as that would never in the world fit such a short pair of twins. So the twins’ mother, Vrouw Vedder, said, “They cannot be called Christopher and Katrina until they are four and a half feet high.” Now it takes a long time to grow four and a half feet of boy and girl. You know, chickens and puppies and colts and kittens always grow up much faster than twins. Kit and Kat ate a great many breakfasts and dinners and suppers, and played a great many plays, and had a great many happy days while they were growing up to their names. I will tell you about some of them. 6

I The Day They Went Fishing One summer

morning,

very early, Vrouw Vedder opened the door of her little Dutch kitchen and stepped out. She looked across the road which ran by the house, across the canal on the other side, across the level green fields that lay beyond, clear to the blue rim of the world, where the sky touches the earth. The sky was very blue; and the great, round, shining face of the sun was just peering over the tops of the trees, as she looked out. Vrouw Vedder listened. The roosters in the barnyard were crowing, the ducks in the canal were quacking, and all the little birds in the fields were singing for joy. Vrouw 8

THE DAY THEY WENT FISHING Vedder hummed a slow little tune of her own, as she went back into her kitchen. Kit and Kat were still asleep in their little cupboard bed. She gave them each a kiss. The twins opened their eyes and sat up. “O Kit and Kat,” said Vrouw Vedder, “the sun is up, the birds are all awake and singing, and Grandfather is going fishing today. If you will hurry, you may go with him! He is coming at six o’clock; so pop out of bed and get dressed. I will put some lunch for you in the yellow basket, and you may dig worms for bait in the garden. Only be sure not to step on the young cabbages that Father planted.”

THE DUTCH TWINS Kit and Kat bounced out of bed in a minute. Their mother helped them put on their clothes and new wooden shoes. Then she gave them each a bowl of bread and milk for their breakfast. They ate it sitting on the kitchen doorstep.

This is a picture of Kit and Kat digging worms. You see they did just as their mother said, and did not step on the young cabbages. They sat on them, instead. But that was an accident. Kit dug the worms, and Kat put them into a basket, with some earth in it to make them feel at home. When Grandfather came, he brought a large fishing rod for himself and two little ones for the twins. There was a little hook on the end of each line. Vrouw Vedder kissed Kit and Kat good-bye. 10

THE DUTCH TWINS “Mind Grandfather, and don’t fall into the water,” she said. Grandfather and the twins started off together down the long road beside the canal. The house where the twins lived was right beside the canal. Their father was a gardener, and his beautiful rows of cabbages and beets and onions stretched in long lines across the level fields by the roadside. Grandfather lived in a large town, a little way beyond the farm where the twins lived. He did not often have a holiday, because he carried milk to the doors of the people in the town, every morning early. Sometime I will tell you how he did it; but I must not tell you now, because if I do, I can’t tell you about their going fishing. This morning, Grandfather carried his rod and the lunch basket. Kit and Kat carried the basket of worms between them, and their rods over their shoulders, and they were all three very happy. They walked along ever so far, beside the canal. Then they turned to the left and walked along a path that ran from the canal across the green fields to what looked like a 12

THE DAY THEY WENT FISHING hill. But it wasn’t a hill at all, really, because there aren’t any hills in Holland. It was a long, long wall of earth, very high—oh, as high as a house, or even higher! And it had sloping sides. There is such a wall of earth all around the country of Holland, where the twins live. There has to be a wall, because the sea is higher than the land. If there were no walls to shut out the sea, the whole country would be covered with water; and if that were so, then there wouldn’t be any Holland, or any Holland Twins, or any story. So you see it was very lucky for the twins that the wall was there. They called it a dyke. Grandfather and Kit and Kat climbed the dyke. When they reached the top, they sat down a few minutes to rest and look at the great blue sea. Grandfather sat in the middle, with Kit on one side, and Kat on the other; and the basket of worms and the basket of lunch were there, too. They saw a great ship sail slowly by, making a cloud of smoke. “Where do the ships go, Grandfather?” asked Kit. 13

THE DUTCH TWINS “To America, and England, and China, and all over the world,” said Grandfather.

“Why?” asked Kat. Kat almost always said “Why?” and when she didn’t, Kit did. “To take flax and linen from the mills of Holland to make dresses for little girls in other countries,” said Grandfather. “Is that all?” asked Kit. “They take cheese and herring, bulbs and butter, and lots of other things besides, and bring back to us wheat and meat and all sorts of good things from the lands across the sea.” 14

THE DAY THEY WENT FISHING “I think I’ll be a sea captain when I’m big,” said Kit. “So will I,” said Kat. “Girls can’t,” said Kit. But Grandfather shook his head and said: “You can’t tell what a girl may be by the time she’s four feet and a half high and is called Katrina. There’s no telling what girls will do anyway. But, children, if we stay here we shall not catch any fish.” So they went down the other side of the dyke and cut onto a little pier that ran from the sandy beach

into

the

water. Grandfather showed them how to bait their hooks. Kit baited Kat’s for her, because Kat said

made her all wriggly 15

THE DAY THEY WENT FISHING inside to do it. She did not like it. Neither did the worm! They all sat down on the end of the pier, Grandfather sat on the very end and let his wooden shoes hang down over the water; but he made Kit and Kat sit with their feet stuck straight out in front of them, so they just reached to the edge, “So you can’t fall in,” said Grandfather. They dropped their hooks into the water and sat very still, waiting for a bite. The sun climbed higher and higher in the sky, and it grew hotter and hotter on the pier. The flies tickled Kat’s nose and made her sneeze. “Keep still, can’t you?” said Kit crossly. “You’ll scare the fish. Girls don’t know how to fish, anyway.”

THE DUTCH TWINS Pretty soon Kat felt a queer little jerk on her line. She was perfectly sure she did. Kat squealed and jerked her rod. She jerked it so hard that one foot flew right up in the air, and one of her new wooden shoes went—splash—right into the water! But that wasn’t the worst of it! Before you could say Jack Robinson, Kat’s hook flew around and caught in Kit’s clothes and pricked him. Kit jumped and said “Ow!” And then—no one could ever tell how it happened—there was Kit in the water, too, splashing like a young whale, with Kat’s hook still holding fast to his clothes in the back! Grandfather jumped then, too, you may be sure. He caught hold of Kat’s rod and pulled hard and called out, “Steady there, steady!” And in one minute there was Kit in the shallow water beside the pier, puffing and blowing like a grampus! Grandfather reached down and pulled him up. When Kit was safely on the pier, Kat threw her arms around his neck, though the water was running down in streams from his hair and eyes and ears. 18

THE DAY THEY WENT FISHING

“O Kit,” she said, “I truly thought it was a fish on my line when I jumped!” “Just like a g-g-girl,” said Kit. “They don’t know how to f-f-fish.” You see his teeth were chattering, because the water was cold. “Well, anyway,” said Kat, “I caught more than you did. 19

THE DUTCH TWINS I caught you!” Then Kat thought of something else. She shook her finger at Kit. “O Kit,” she said, “Mother told you not to fall into the water!”

“‘T-t-twas all your fault,” roared Kit. “Y-y-you began it! Anyway, where is your new wooden shoe?” “Where are both of yours?” screamed Kat. Sure enough, where were they? No one had thought about shoes, because they were thinking so hard about Kit. They ran to the end of the pier and looked. There was Kat’s shoe sailing away toward America like a little boat! 20

THE DAY THEY WENT FISHING Kit’s were still bobbing about in the water near the pier. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” shrieked Kat; but the tide was going out and carrying her shoe farther away every minute. They could not get it; but Grandfather reached down with his rod and fished out both of Kit’s shoes. Then Kat took off her other one and her stockings, and they all three went back to the beach.

Grandfather and Kat covered Kit up with sand to keep him warm while his clothes were drying. Then Grandfather stuck the twins’ fish poles up in the sand and tied the lines together for a clothesline, and hung Kit’s clothes up on it, and Kat put their three wooden shoes in a row beside Kit. 21

THE DUTCH TWINS Then they ate their luncheon of bread and butter, cheese, and milk, with some radishes from Father’s garden. It tasted very good, even if it was sandy. After lunch Grandfather said, “It will never do to go home without any fish at all.” So by and by he went back to the pier and caught one while the twins played in the sand. He put it in the lunch basket to carry home. Kat brought shells and pebbles to Kit, because he had to stay covered up in the sand, and Kit built a play dyke all around himself with them, and Kat dug a canal outside the dyke. Then she made sand pies in clamshells and set them in a row in the sun to bake. They played until the shadow of the dyke grew very long across the sandy beach, and then Grandfather said it was time to go home. He helped Kit dress, but Kit’s clothes were still a little wet in the thick parts. And Kat had to go barefooted and carry her one wooden shoe. They climbed the dyke and crossed the fields, and walked along the road by the canal. The road shone, like a 22

THE DAY THEY WENT FISHING strip of yellow ribbon across the green field. They walked quite slowly, for they were tired and sleepy.

By and by Kit said, “I see our house”; and Kat said, “I see Mother at the gate.” Grandfather gave the fish he caught to Kit and Kat, and Vrouw Vedder cooked it for their supper; and though it was not a very big fish, they all had some. Grandfather must have told Vrouw Vedder something about what had happened; for that night, when she put Kit to bed, she felt of his clothes carefully—but she didn’t say a word about their being damp. And she said to Kat: “Tomorrow we will see the shoemaker and have him make 23

THE DUTCH TWINS you another shoe.â&#x20AC;? Then Kit and Kat hugged her and said goodnight, and popped off to sleep before you could wink your eyes.

II Market Day with Father One afternoon Kit and Kat were playing around the kitchen doorstep, while their Mother sat on a bench by the door, peeling some onions for supper. It was not yet suppertime, but Vrouw Vedder was always ahead of the clock with the work. Kit and Kat had a pan of water and were teaching their ducklings to swim. They each had one little fat duckling of their very own. The ducklings squawked when Kit lifted them over the edge of the pan into the water. “Don’t do that, Kit,” said Kat. “The ducklings don’t like it. You didn’t like it when you fell into the water, did you?” “But I’m not a duck,” said Kit. “Well, anyway, they’re tired and want to go to their mother,” said Kat. “Let’s do something else! I’ll tell you what! Let’s go out to the garden and help Father get the 25

MARKET DAY WITH FATHER boat loaded for market.” “All right,” said Kit. “May we, Mother?” “Yes,” said Vrouw Vedder; “and you may ask Father if he will take you to market with him tomorrow if it’s fair. Tell him I said you could ask.” “Oh, goody, goody!” said Kit and Kat, both at once; and they ran as fast as their wooden shoes would take them out into the garden. They found their father cutting cabbages and gathering them into piles. He was stopping to light his pipe, when they reached him. “O Father!” said Kit and Kat both together. “May we go on the boat to market with you tomorrow morning? Mother said we might ask!” Father Vedder blew two puffs from his pipe without answering. “We’ll help you load the boat,” said Kit. “Yes,” said Kat, “I can carry a cabbage.” “I can carry two,” said Kit. “We’ll both be good,” said Kat. “Very well,” said Father, at last. “We’ll see how you 27

MARKET DAY WITH FATHER work! And tomorrow morning, if it’s fair, I’ll see! But you must go to bed early tonight, because you’ll have to get up very early in the morning, if you go with me! Now you each take a cabbage and run along.” Father Vedder went back to his work.

Kit and Kat ran to the cabbage pile. Kat took one, and Kit took two—just to show that he could. “When Father says ‘I’ll see,’ he always means ‘yes,’” Kat 29

THE DUTCH TWINS said to Kit. Perhaps it seems queer to you that they should go to market in a boat, but it didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t seem queer at all to the twins. You see, in Holland there are a great many canals. They cross the fields like roadways of water, and that is what they really are. Little canals open into big ones, and big ones go clear to the sea.

It is very easy for farmers to load their vegetables for market right on a boat. They can pull the boat out into the big canal, and then away they go to sell their produce in the 30

MARKET DAY WITH FATHER town. The canals flow through the towns, too, and make water streets, where boats go up and down as carriages go here. The twins and their father worked like beavers, washing the vegetables and packing them in baskets, until their good old boat was filled with cabbages and onions and beets and carrots and all sorts of good things to eat. By that time it was nearly dark, and they were all three very hungry; so they went home. They found that Mother Vedder had made buttermilk porridge for supper. The twins loved buttermilk porridge. They each ate three bowls of it, and then their mother put them to bed. This is a picture of the bed! It opened like a cupboard right into the kitchen, and it was like going to bed on a shelf in the pantry. The very next 31

THE DUTCH TWINS thing the twins knew, it was morning, and there was Vrouw Vedder calling to them. “It’s market day, and the sun is almost up. Come Kit and Kat, if you want to go with Father,” she said. The twins bounced out like two rubber balls. They ate some breakfast and then ran to the boat. Father was there before them. He helped them into the boat and put them both on one seat, and told them to sit still. Then he got in and took the pole and pushed off. Vrouw Vedder stood on the canal bank to see them pass. “Be good children; mind Father, and don’t get lost,” she called after them. Kit and Kat were very busy all the way to town, looking at the things to be seen on each side of the canal. It was so early in the morning that the grass was all shiny with dew. Black and white cows were eating the rich green grass, and a few laborers were already in the fields. They passed little groups of farm buildings, their redtiled roofs shining in the morning sun; and the windmills threw long, long shadows across the fields. 32

MARKET DAY WITH FATHER

The blue blossoms of the flax nodded to them from the canal bank; and once, they saw a stork fly over a mossy green roof, to her nest on the chimney, with a frog in her mouth. They went under bridges and by little canals that opened into the main canal. They passed so close to some of the houses that Kit and Kat could see the white curtains blowing in the windows, and the pots of red geraniums standing on the sill. In one house the family waved their hands to Kit and Kat from the breakfast table, and a little farther on they passed a woman who was washing clothes in the canal. Other boats filled with vegetables and flowers 33

THE DUTCH TWINS of all colors passed them. And they were going to market too. Only no other boat had twins in it. “Good day, neighbor Vedder,” one man called out. “Are you taking a pair of fat pigs to market?” By and by they came to the town. There were a great many boats in the canal here, and people calling back and forth to each other from them. Kit and Kat saw a boat that the Captain’s family lived in. It was like a floating house.

MARKET DAY WITH FATHER The twins thought it must be grand to live on a boat like that, just going about from town to town, seeing new sights every day. â&#x20AC;&#x153;We should never have to go to school at all,â&#x20AC;? said Kit. They wished their own boat were big enough to move about in; but Father told them they must sit very, very still all the time. There were houses on each side of the canal, in the town, and people were clattering along over the pavement in their wooden shoes. The marketplace was an open square in the middle of the town. It had little booths and stalls all about it. The farmers brought their fresh vegetables and flowers, or whatever they had to sell, into these stalls, and then sat there waiting for customers. Kit and Kat helped their father to unload the boat. Then they sat down on a box, and Father gave them each some bread and cheese to eat; for they were hungry again. They put the cheese between slices of bread and took bites, while they looked about. Soon there were a good many people in the square. Most 35

THE DUTCH TWINS

of them were women with market baskets on their arms. They went to the different stalls to see what they would buy for dinner. A large woman with a big basket on her arm came along to the stall where Kit and Kat were sitting. “Bless my heart!” she said. “Are you twins?” “Yes, Ma’am,” said Kit and Kat. And Kat said, “We’re five years old.” “O my soul!” said the large woman. “So you are! What are your names?” “Christopher and Katrina, but they call us Kit and Kat for short.” It was Kat who said this. And Kit said, “When 36

MARKET DAY WITH FATHER we are four feet and a half high, we are going to be called Christopher and Katrina.” “Well, well, well!” said the large woman. “So you are! Now my name is Vrouw Van der Kloot. Are you helping Father?” “Yes,” said the twins. “We’re going to help him sell things.” “Then you may sell me a cabbage and ten onions,” said Vrouw Van der Kloot.

THE DUTCH TWINS Father Vedder’s eyes twinkled, and he lit his pipe. Kit got a cabbage for the Vrouw. “You can get the ten onions,” he said to Kat. You see, really Kit couldn’t count ten and be sure of it. So he asked Kat to do it. Kat wasn’t afraid. She took out a little pile of onions in a measure, and said to Vrouw Van der Kloot, “Is that ten?” Then Vrouw Van der Kloot counted them with Kat, very carefully. There were eleven, and so she gave back one. Then she gave Kat the money for the onions, and Kit the money for the cabbage. Father Vedder said, “Now Kit and Kat, by and by, when you get hungry again, you can go over to Vrouw Van der Kloot’s stall and buy something from her. She keeps the sweetie shop.” “Oh! Oh!” cried Kit and Kat. “We’re hungry yet! Can’t we go now?” “No, not now,” said Father. “We must do some work first.” The twins helped Father Vedder a long time. They learned to count ten and to do several other things. Then 38

MARKET DAY WITH FATHER their father gave them the money for the cabbage and the ten onions they had sold to Vrouw Van der Kloot, and said, “You may walk around the market and look in all the stalls, and buy the thing you like best that costs just two cents. Then come back here to me.” Kit and Kat set forth on their travels, to see the world. They each held the money tightly shut in one hand, and with the other hand they held on to each other. “The world is very large,” said Kit and Kat. They saw all sorts of strange things in the market. There were tables piled high with flowers. There was a stall full of birds in cages, singing away with all their might. One cage had five little birds in it, sitting in a row. “O Kit,” cried Kat, “let’s buy the birds!” They asked the woman if the birds cost two cents, and she said, “No, my angels; they cost fifty cents.” You see, now that the twins could count ten, they knew they couldn’t get the birds for two cents when they cost fifty. So they went to the next place. There, there were chickens and ducks for sale. But the

THE DUTCH TWINS

twins had plenty of those at home. There were stalls and stalls of vegetables just like Father’s, and there were booths where meat and fish and wood and peat were sold. But the twins couldn’t find anything they wanted that cost exactly two cents. At last, what should they see but Vrouw Van der Kloot’s fat face smiling at them from a stall just full of cakes and cookies and bread, and chocolate, and honey cakes, and goodies of all kinds. The twins held up their money. 40

MARKET DAY WITH FATHER

There on the counter was a whole row of St. Nicholas dolls with currant eyes, and they knew at once that there was nothing else in all the market they should like so much! 41

THE DUTCH TWINS “Do these cost two cents apiece, dear Vrouw Van der Kloot?” asked Kat. “No,” said Vrouw Van der Kloot; “they cost one cent apiece.” The twins were discouraged. “I don’t believe there’s a single thing in this whole market that costs just two cents,” said Kat. “Keep still!” said Kit. “Let me think.”

They sat down on the curb. Kat kept still, and Kit took hold of his head with both hands and thought hard. He thought so hard that he scowled all over his forehead! “I tell you what it is, Kat,” he said at last. “If those St. 42

MARKET DAY WITH FATHER Nicholas dolls cost one cent apiece, I think we could get two of them for two cents.” “O Kit,” said Kat, “how splendidly you can think! Does it hurt you much? Let’s ask Vrouw Van der Kloot.” They went back to the good Vrouw, who was selling some coffee bread to a woman with a basket. “O Vrouw Van der Kloot,” said Kat, “Kit says that if those St. Nicholas dolls cost one cent apiece, he thinks we could get two for two cents. Do you think so?” “Of course you can,” said Vrouw Van der Kloot; and she winked at the lady with the bread. “But you’ve got two cents, and I’ve got two,” said Kat to Kit. “If you should get two Nicholas dolls, why, I should have my two cents left; shouldn’t I? Oh! dear, it won’t come out right anyway!” “Let me think some more,” said Kit; and when he had thought some more, he said, “I’ll tell you what let’s! You get two with your two cents, and I’ll get two with mine! And I’ll give my other one to Mother and you can give your other one to Father!” “That’s just what we’ll do,” said Kat. 43

THE DUTCH TWINS They went back to Vrouw Van der Kloot. “We’ll take four dolls,” said Kat. “Well, well, well!” said the Vrouw. “So you’ve figured it all out, have you?” And she counted out the dolls—“One for Kit, and one for Kat, and one for Father, and one for Mother, and an extra one for good measure!” “O Kit, she’s given us one more!” said Kat. “Let’s eat it right now! Thank you, dear Vrouw Van der Kloot.” So they ate up the one more then and there, beginning with the feet. Kit bit one off, and Kat bit the other; and they took turns until the St. Nicholas doll was all gone. Then they took the four others, said goodbye to the good Vrouw, and went back to Father’s stall. They found that Father had sold all his things and was ready to go home. They carried their empty baskets back to the boat, and soon were on their way home. The twins sat on one seat, holding tight to their dolls, which were growing rather sticky. The boat was so light that they went home from market much more quickly than they had come, and it did not 44

MARKET DAY WITH FATHER

seem long before they saw their own house. There it was, with its mossy roof half hidden among the trees, and Vrouw Vedder waiting for them at the gate. Dinner was all ready, and the twins set the four St. Nicholas dolls in a row, in the middle of the table. “There’s one for Father, and one for Mother, and one for Kat, and one for me,” said Kit. “O Mother,” said Kat, “Kit can think! He thought just how many dolls he could buy when they were one for one cent! Isn’t it fine that he can do that?” “You’ve learned a great deal at the market,” said Vrouw 45

THE DUTCH TWINS Vedder. But Kit didn’t say a word. He just looked proud and pleased and put his hands in his pockets. “By and by, when you are four and a half feet high and are called Christopher, you can go with Father every time,” said Vrouw Vedder. “I can think a little bit, too,” said Kat. “Can’t I go?” “No,” said Vrouw Vedder. “Girls shouldn’t think much. It isn’t good for them. Leave thinking to the men. You can stay at home and help me.”

III Mother’s Day “Yesterday was a very long day,” said Vrouw Vedder on the morning after Market Day. “You were gone such a long time.” Kat gave her mother a great hug. “We’ll stay with you all day today, Mother,” she said. “Won’t we, Kit?” “Yes,” said Kit; and he hugged her too. “And we’ll help you just as much as we helped Father yesterday. Won’t we, Kit?” “More,” said Kit. “I shouldn’t wonder!” said Father. “I shall be glad of help,” said Vrouw Vedder, “because Grandma is coming, and I want everything to be very clean and tidy when she comes. I’m going first to the pasture to milk the cow. You can go with me and keep the flies away. 47

MOTHERâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S DAY That will be a great help.â&#x20AC;? Vrouw Vedder put a yoke across her shoulders, with hooks hanging from each end of it. Then she hung a large pail on one of the hooks, and a brass milk can on the other. She gave Kat a little pail to carry, and Kit took some switches from the willow tree in the yard, with which to drive away the flies. Then they all three started down the road to the pasture. Pretty soon they came to a little bridge over the canal,

THE DUTCH TWINS which they had to cross. “Oh, dear,” said Kat, looking down at the water, “I’m scared!” You see, there was no railing at all to take hold of, and the bridge was quite narrow. “Ho! ’Fraidy cat!” said Kit. “I’ll go first and show you how.” “And I’ll walk behind you,” said Vrouw Vedder. Kat walked very slowly and held on hard to her pail, and so she got over the bridge safely. “When I’m four feet and a half high, I’m going to jump over the canal on a jumping pole,” said Kit. “O how brave you are!” said Kat. “I should be scared. And besides I’m afraid I should drop my shoes in the water.” “Well, of course,” said Kit, “boys can do a great many things that girls can’t do.” When they reached the pasture, there was Mevrouw Holstein waiting for them. Mevrouw Holstein was the cow’s name. Kit and Kat named her. Vrouw Vedder tucked up her skirts—and that was quite a task, for she wore a great many of them—and sat down on a little stool. Kit and Kat stood beside her and waved 50

THE DUTCH TWINS their willow wands and said “Shoo!” to the flies; and Vrouw Vedder began to milk. Mevrouw Holstein had eaten so much of the green meadow grass that Vrouw Vedder filled both the big pail and the brass can, and the little pail too, with rich milk. “I shall have milk enough to make butter and cheese,” said Vrouw Vedder. “There are no cows like our Dutch cows in all the world, I believe.” “O Mother, are you going to churn today?” asked Kat. “Yes,” said the Vrouw, “I have cream enough at home to make a good roll of butter, and you may help me if you will be very careful and work steadily.” “I will be very steady,” said Kat. “I’m big enough now to learn.” “All Dutch girls must know how to make good butter and cheese,” said Vrouw Vedder. “And boys can drink the buttermilk,” said Kit. “I’ll drink some too,” said Kat. “There’ll be plenty for both,” said their mother. When she had finished milking, Vrouw Vedder shook out her skirts, put the yoke across her shoulders again and 52

MOTHER’S DAY lifted the large pail of milk. She hung it on one of the hook and the brass milk can on the other. Kat took the small pail, and they started back home. The milk was quite heavy, so they walked slowly. They had crossed the bridge and were just turning down the road, when what should they see but their old goose and gander walking along the road, followed by six little goslings! “O Mother, Mother,” screamed Kat; “there is the old goose that we haven’t seen for so long! She has stolen her nest and hatched out six little geese all her own! They are taking them to the canal to swim.” “Quick, Kit, quick!” said Vrouw Vedder. “Don’t let them go into the canal! We must drive them home.”

Kit ran boldly forward in front of them, and Kat ran too. She spilled some of the milk; but she was in such a hurry that she never knew it, until afterwards, when she found 53

THE DUTCH TWINS some in her wooden shoes! “K-s-s-s!” said the old goose; and she ran straight for the twins with her mouth open and her wings spread! The old gander ran at them too. I can’t begin to tell you how scared Kat was then! She stood right still and screamed.

Kit was scared too; but he stood by Kat, like a brave boy, and shook his willow switches at the geese, and shouted “Shoo! Shoo!” just as he did at the flies. Vrouw Vedder set her pails down in the road and came 54

MOTHERâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S DAY up behind, flapping her apron. Then the old goose and the gander and all the little goslings started slowly along the road for home, saying cross words in Goose talk all the way! Father Vedder was working in the garden, when the procession came down the road. First came the geese, looking very indignant, and the goslings. Then came Kit with the leaves all whipped off his willow switches. Then came Kat with her pail; and, last of all, Vrouw Vedder and the milk!

When the new family of geese had been taken care of, and the fresh milk had been put away to cool, Vrouw Vedder got out her churn and scalded it well. Then she put in her cream, and put the cover down over the handle of 55

THE DUTCH TWINS the dasher. “Now, Kit and Kat, you may take turns,” she said, “and see which one of you can bring the butter, but be sure you work the dasher very evenly or the butter will not be good.” “Me first!” said Kat, and she began. Kit sat on a little stool and watched for the butter.

Kat worked the dasher up and down, up and down. The cream splashed and splashed inside the churn, and a little white ring of spatters came up around the dasher. Kat worked until her arms ached. 56

MOTHER’S DAY “Now it’s my turn,” said Kit. Then he poked the dasher, and the cream splashed and splashed for quite a long time; but still the butter did not come. “Ho!” said Kat. “You’re nothing but a boy. Of course you don’t know how to churn. Let me try.” And she took her turn. Dash! Splash! Splash, dash! She worked away; and very soon, around the dasher, there was a ring of little specks of butter. “Come, butter, come! Come, butter, come! Some for a honey cake, and some for a bun,” she sang in time to the dasher; and truly, when Vrouw Vedder opened the churn, there was a large cake of yellow butter! Vrouw Vedder took out the butter and worked it into a nice roll. Then she gave each of the twins a cup of buttermilk to drink. While the twins drank the buttermilk, their mother washed the churn and put it away. When she was all 57

THE DUTCH TWINS through, it was still quite early in the morning, because they had gotten up with the sun. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Now we must clean the house,â&#x20AC;? she said. So she got out her scrubbing brushes, and mops, and pails, and dusters, and began. First she shook out the pillows of the best bed, that nobody ever slept in, and pushed back the curtains so that the embroidered coverlet could be seen. Then she put the other beds in order and drew the curtains in front of them.

MOTHER’S DAY She dusted the linen press and left it open just a little, so that her beautiful rolls of white linen, tied with ribbons, would show. Kat dusted the chairs, and Kit carried the big brass jugs outside the kitchen door to be polished. Then they all three rubbed and scoured and polished them until they shone like the sun. “Now it is time to cook the dinner,” said Vrouw Vedder. “We will have pork and potatoes and some cabbage. Kit, run to the garden and bring a cabbage; and Kat, you may get the fire ready to cook it, when Kit brings it in.” Kat went to the stove—but it was such a funny stove! It wasn’t a stove at all, really.

THE DUTCH TWINS There was a sort of table built up against the chimney. It was all covered with pretty blue tiles, with pictures of boats on them. Over this table, there was a shelf, like a mantel shelf. There were plates on it, and from the bottom of the shelf hung some chains with hooks on them. The coals were right out on the little table.

MOTHER’S DAY Kat took the bellows and—puff, puff, puff!—made the coals burn brighter. She peeped in the kettle to see that there was water in it. Then she put some more charcoal on the fire. Kit brought in the cabbage, and Vrouw Vedder cut it up and put it into the pot of water hanging over the fire. She put the pork and potatoes in too. In a little while the pot was bubbling away merrily; and Father Vedder, who was in the garden, sniffed the air and said, “I know what we are going to have for dinner.” While the pot boiled, Vrouw Vedder scrubbed the floor and wiped the window. Then she took her brooms and scrubbing brush outside. She scrubbed the door and the outside of the house. She scrubbed the little pig with soap. The little pig squealed, because she got some soap in its eyes. She scrubbed the steps—and even the trunk of the poplar tree in the yard! She scrubbed everything in sight, except Father Vedder and the twins! By and by she came to the door and called, “Come to dinner! Only be sure to leave your wooden shoes outside, when you come into my clean kitchen.” 61

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Here are the shoes, just as they left them, all in a row. And as it was Saturday, the shoes were scrubbed too, that night. When the dinner was cleared away, Vrouw Vedder said to the twins, “It is almost time for Grandmother to come. Let’s walk out to meet her.”

MOTHER’S DAY They walked clear to the edge of the town before they saw her coming. They walked on top of the dyke, so they could look right down into the street, and see all the houses in a row. Grandmother was coming up the street with a basket on her arm. “What do you think is in that basket?” Vrouw Vedder asked the twins. “Honey cake!” said Kit; and Kat said, “Candy!” And Kit and Kat were both right. There was a large honey cake and anise candies, and some currant buns besides!

THE DUTCH TWINS Grandmother let them peep in and see. They were very polite and did not ask for any—Vrouw Vedder was proud of the twins’ good manners. Grandmother said, “This afternoon, when we have tea, you shall have some.” “I’m glad I ate such a lot of dinner,” said Kit to Kat, as they walked along; “or else I’d just have to have a bun this minute!” “Yes,” said Kat, “it’s much easier to be polite when you aren’t hungry.” When they got home, Kit and Kat took their Grandmother to see the new goslings, and to see the ducklings too. And Vrouw Vedder showed her the butter that Kit and Kat had helped to churn; and Grandmother said, “My, my! What helpers they are getting to be!” Then she said, “How clean the house is!” and then, “How the brasses shine!” “Yes,” said Vrouw Vedder; “the twins helped me make everything clean and tidy to show to you.” “I guess it’s time for honey cake,” said Grandmother. Then Vrouw Vedder stirred up the fire again and boiled the kettle and made tea. She took down her best china cups 64

MOTHER’S DAY and put them out on the round table. Then Grandmother opened her basket and took out the honey cake and buns and the candy; and Vrouw Vedder brought out her fresh butter. “I can’t stay polite much longer,” said Kit to Kat. Grandmother gave them each a thin slice of honey cake and a bun; and Vrouw Vedder spread some of the butter on the buns—and oh, how good they were!

“Some for a honey cake, And some for a bun,” 65

THE DUTCH TWINS sang Kat. It didn’t take the twins long to finish them. When they had drunk their tea, Grandmother brought out her knitting, and Mother Vedder began to spin. “How many rolls of linen have you ready for Kat when she marries?” Grandmother asked. “I try to make at least one roll each year; so she has four now and I am working on the fifth one,” said Vrouw Vedder. “She shall be as well-to-do as any farmer’s daughter near here, when she marries. See, this is the last one,” and Vrouw Vedder took from the press a roll of beautiful white linen tied with blue ribbons. “Is that for me, Mother?” asked Kat. “Yes,” said Vrouw Vedder. “When you marry, we shall have a fine press full of linen for you.” “Isn’t Kit going to have some too?” asked Kat. Grandmother laughed. “The mother of the little girl who will someday marry Kit, is working now on her linen, no doubt; so Kit won’t need any of yours.” The twins looked very solemn and went out into the yard. They sat down on the bench by the kitchen door 66

MOTHER’S DAY together. Then Kat said, “Kit, do you suppose we’ve got to be married?” “It looks like it,” said Kit. Things seemed very dark indeed to the twins.

“Well,” said Kat, “I just tell you I’m not going to do it. I’m going to stay at home with Mother and Father, and you and the ducks and everything!” “What will they do with the linen then?” said Kit. “I guess you’ll have to be married.” Kat began to cry. “I’ll just go and ask Mother,” she said. 67

THE DUTCH TWINS “I’ll go with you,” said Kit. “I don’t want to any more than you do.” So the twins got down from the bench and went into the kitchen where Grandmother and Vrouw Vedder were. Their mother was spinning flax to make linen thread.

“Mother,” said the twins, “will you please excuse us from being married.” “O my soul!” said Vrouw Vedder. She seemed surprised. “We don’t want to at all,” said Kat. “We’d rather stay with you.” 68

MOTHER’S DAY “You shan’t be married until after you are four feet and a half high and are called Christopher and Katrina anyway,” said Vrouw Vedder. “I promise you that.” The twins were much relieved. They went out and fed their ducklings. They felt so much better that they gave them an extra handful of grain, and they carried a bun to Father Vedder, who was hoeing in the farthest corner of the garden. He ate it, leaning on his hoe.

When they went back to the house, it was late in the afternoon. Grandmother was rolling up her knitting. “I must go home to Grandfather;” she said. “He’ll be wanting his supper.” The twins walked down the road as far as the first bridge with Grandmother. There she kissed them goodbye and 69

THE DUTCH TWINS sent them home. When their mother put them to bed that night, Kat said, “Has this been a short day, Mother?” “Oh, very short!” said Vrouw Vedder, “because you helped me so much.” Then she kissed them goodnight and went out to feed the pigs, and shut up the chickens for the night.

When she was gone, Kit said, “I don’t see how they got along before we came. We help so much!” “No,” said Kat; “I don’t think—” But what she didn’t think, no one will ever know, because just then she popped off to sleep. 70

IV One Sunday One Sunday morning in early fall, Kit and Kat woke up and peeped out from their cupboard bed to see what was going on in the world. The sun was shining through the little panes of the kitchen window, making square patches of light on the floor. The kettle was singing on the fire, and Vrouw Vedder was already putting away the breakfast things. Father Vedder was lighting his pipe with a coal from the fire. He had on his black Sunday clothes, all ready for church. Father Vedder did not look at Kit and Kat at all. He just puffed away at his pipe and said to himself, â&#x20AC;&#x153;If there are any twins anywhere that want to go to church with me, 71

THE DUTCH TWINS they’d better get dressed and eat their breakfasts.” Kit and Kat tumbled out of the cupboard at once. Vrouw Vedder came to help them dress.

ONE SUNDAY I can’t tell you how many petticoats she put on Kat, but it was ever so many. And over them all she put a skirt of plaid. There was a waist of a different color, and over that a kerchief with bright red roses on it. And over the skirt she put a new, clean apron. Kit was dressed very splendidly too. He had full baggy trousers of velveteen that reached to his ankles, and a jacket that buttoned with big silver buttons. His trousers had pockets in them. Kit and Kat both wore stockings, which Vrouw Vedder had knit, and their best shoes of stout leather. When they were all dressed, Vrouw Vedder stood them up side by side and had them turn around slowly to be sure they were all right. “Now see that you behave well in meeting,” she said. “Sit up straight. Look at the Dominie, and do not whisper.” “Yes, Mother,” said Kit and Kat. Then she tied a big apron over each of them and gave them each a bowl of bread and milk. While they were eating it, Father Vedder went out and looked at the pigs, and chickens, and ducks, and geese, and smoked his pipe. 73

THE DUTCH TWINS When he came in, Kit and Kat were quite ready. Vrouw Vedder had tied on Katâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s little white-winged cap, and put Kitâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hat on. She kissed them goodbye, and they were off, one on each side of Father Vedder, holding tight to his hands. Mother Vedder looked after them proudly, from the doorway. She did not go to church that day. They walked slowly along the roadway in the bright sunshine. Many of their neighbors and friends, all dressed in their best, were walking to church, too. Father Vedder and Kit and Kat went a little out of their

ONE SUNDAY way, in order to pass a large windmill that was swinging its arms around and creaking out a kind of sleepy windmill song. This is the song it seemed to sing: Around, and around, and around, I go, Sometimes fast and sometimes slow. I pump the water and grind the grain, The marshy fields of the Lowlands, drain. I harness the wind to turn my mill, Around, and around, and around with a will! Perhaps it was listening to the windmill song that made Kat say, “Why do we have windmills, father?” Kit and Kat said “Why?” every few steps on that walk. You see, they didn’t often have their father all to themselves, to ask questions of. “Why, what a little Dutch girl,” said Father Vedder, “not to know what windmills are for! They pump the water out of the fields, to be sure! Don’t you know how wet the fields are sometimes? If we didn’t keep pumping the water out, they would be so wet we could not make gardens at 75

THE DUTCH TWINS all.” “Does the wind pump the water?” asked Kat. “Of course it does, goosie girl! and grinds the grain too. The wind blows against the great arms and turns them round and round. That works the pumps; and the pumps suck the water out of the fields, and it is poured out into the canals. If it weren’t for the good old windmills working away, who knows but the water would get the best of us some day and cover up all our land!” “Wouldn’t the dykes keep out the sea?” asked Kit. “Suppose the dykes should break!” said Father Vedder. “Even one little break can let in lots of water. The dykes have to be watched day and night all the time, and the least bit of a hole stopped up right away, so it can’t grow any bigger and let in the sea.” “Oh dear,” Kat said, “what a leaky country!” She ran near the mill and let the wind from the fans blow her hair and the white wings on her cap. As the great fans swung near the ground, Kit jumped up and caught hold of one. It lifted him right off the ground as it swung around, and in a minute he was dangling high in 76

ONE SUNDAY the air. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Jump, jump, quick,â&#x20AC;? shouted Father Vedder. Kit let go and dropped to the ground just in time. In another minute he would have been carried clear over. As it was, he sat down very hard on the ground, and had

THE DUTCH TWINS to have the dirt brushed off of his Sunday clothes. “I am surprised at you,” Father Vedder said, while he brushed him. “You are too small to swing on windmills, and besides it is the Sabbath day. Don’t you ever do it again until you are big enough to be called Christopher!” Sitting down so hard in the dirt had hurt Kit a little bit, and scared him a good deal, so he said, “No, Father.” Then they walked all around the mill. They peeped inside a door which was open, and saw the pumps working away. “Yes,” said Father Vedder, “it is nip and tuck between wind and water in Holland. Let us sit down here on the canal bank, in the sunshine, and I will tell you what hard work has to be done to keep this good land of ours. And it is a good land! We should be thankful for it! Just see the rich green meadows over there, with the cows grazing in them!” Father Vedder pointed to the beautiful fields across the canal. “The grass is so rich and fresh, that the cows here give more milk than any other cows in the whole world!” “That’s what Mother says,” said Kat. “The

Holland

butter

and 78

cheese

are

famous

ONE SUNDAY

everywhere,” went on Father Vedder; “and we have all the good milk we want to drink, besides. The Dutch gardens, too, are the finest in the world.” “And ours is one of the best of Dutch gardens, isn’t it, Father?” said Kit. “It’s a very good garden,” said Father Vedder, proudly. “No one can raise better onions and cabbage and carrots than I can. And the Dutch bulbs! Our tulips and hyacinths 79

THE DUTCH TWINS make the whole world bloom!” “Holland is really the greatest country there is; isn’t it?” said Kit. “Well, not in point of size, perhaps,” Father Vedder admitted; “but in pluck, my boy, it is! Did you know that sometimes people call Holland the Land of Pluck?” “I don’t see why,” said Kat. “I’m Dutch, but I’m afraid of lots of things! I’m afraid of spiders and of cross geese, and of falling into the water!” “You’re a girl, if you are Dutch,” said Kit. “Boys are always pluckier than girls; aren’t they, Father?” “Really plucky people never boast,” said Father Vedder. Kit looked the other way and dug the toe of his shoe into the dirt. Kat snuggled up to her Father and sniffed at Kit. “So there, Kit!” was all she said. “There’s pluck enough to go round,” said Father Vedder mildly, “and we all need it boys and girls, and men and women too. It was pluck that made Holland, and it’s pluck that keeps her from slipping back into the sea.” “How did pluck make Holland?” asked Kit. 80

ONE SUNDAY “There wasn’t any Holland in the first place,” Father Vedder answered. “There were only some marshes and some lands under water. But people built a wall of earth around these flats; and then they pumped out the water from the space inside the wall, and made canals through the land, and drained it. And after all that work, we have our rich fields.” “How does pluck keep them?” asked Kat. “The dykes have to be watched and mended all the time,” said Father Vedder. “And the windmills have to work and work, to keep the fields drained. No one can be lazy in Holland. Each one has to work well for what he gets. If Holland should grow lazy, she would soon be back again in the Zuyder Zee! So, my children, you see you must learn well and work hard. And that is all my sermon today.” “It is a better sermon than the Dominie will preach, I know,” said Kat. “Tut, tut! You must never say such things,” said Father Vedder. He got up and held out his hands to the twins. “Come! we must walk along, or we shall be late for church,” he said. “Here comes the Dominie now.” 81

THE DUTCH TWINS There indeed was the Dominie! Kit and Kat knew him well. No one else dressed as he did. He wore a high silk hat, and long, black coat and trousers, such as city people wear. As he came along the road, all the people bowed respectfully; the little boys took off their caps, and the little girls bobbed a courtesy. Kit and Kat bobbed and curtsied too, and the Dominie smiled at them and laid his hand on Kit’s head. “I wish he’d come to see us again,” said Kit, after the Dominie had passed by. Father Vedder was pleased.

ONE SUNDAY “I am glad to see that you love your pastor, my son,” he said. “Well,” said Kit, “I don’t really like him so very much, because we have to be washed, and recite the catechism, and mind all our manners when he comes. But Mother always has such good things to eat when the Dominie comes—doesn’t she, Kat?—cake and preserves and everything!” “If it weren’t for the catechism and such things, it would be something like St. Nicholas day!” sighed Kat. “But the Dominie never forgets! And last time I couldn’t tell what saving grace was! The cakes are good, but...” “Good Dutch boys and girls always learn their catechism well,” said Father Vedder; “then they are glad to see the good Dominie as well as the cakes. Now no more chatter! Here is a penny for each of you to put in the bag when it is passed.” He gave them each a penny. Kit put his in his pocket. Kat didn’t have a pocket, so she held hers tight in her hand. At the church door they met Grandfather and Grandmother. 83

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Grandfather looked very fine indeed, in his black clothes; and Grandmother was all dressed up in her best black dress, with a fresh white cap, and a shawl over her shoulders. She carried a large psalm book with golden clasps in one hand, and a scent bottle in the other. She had some peppermints too. Kit and Kat smelled them. 84

ONE SUNDAY They all went into the church together, and an old woman led them to their seats. Kit and Kat sat one on each side of Grandmother. Grandfather and Father Vedder sat on the other side of the church with all the rest of the men. “You must sit very still and look straight before you,” said Grandmother. Kit remembered the peppermints and sat up like a soldier. So did Kat. Pretty soon the schoolmaster came in and went up into the pulpit. He read a chapter from the Bible, and then the Dominie stood up in the pulpit and began to preach. He preached a long time. Kit and Kat tried very hard to sit still, just as Grandmother had said; but pretty soon their heads began to nod. Grandmother gave them each a peppermint. They waked up for a minute. But the Dominie kept right on preaching, until they were both sound asleep with their heads on Grandmother’s shoulders, one on each side; and if they had been awake to see, they might have thought that Grandmother took a nap too. 85

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The sermon was so very long that a great many people went to sleep. So, by and by, the Dominie said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;We will all sing the Ninety-first Psalm.â&#x20AC;? Everybody woke up. Grandmother opened the great golden clasps of her psalm book, and stood up with all the rest of the people. She stood up quickly, so that no one would think she had been asleep. She forgot that the twins were asleep too, with their heads on her shoulders. That was why, when she got up, Kit and Kat fell against each other and bumped their heads! 86

ONE SUNDAY They forgot that they were in church. They said “Ow!” both together, and Kat began to cry. But Grandmother said “Sh! sh!” and gave them each a peppermint; and that made them feel much better. Pretty soon the schoolmaster came along with a little bag on the end of a long stick. He passed it to each person. Kit and Kat each put in a penny, though Kit had a hard time to get his out of his pocket. But Grandmother was so upset about the twins getting bumped, that she forgot and put in a peppermint instead.

When church was over and they were out on the street again, Grandmother said, “Now you are coming home with me to stay all night.” 87

THE DUTCH TWINS “Really and truly?” said the twins. “And may we go with Grandfather to carry the milk in the morning?” “Yes,” said Grandfather, “and Kit may drive the dogs.” Kit jumped right up and down, he was so happy, even if it was Sunday. “May I too? May I too?” asked Kat. “You are a girl,” said Grandfather. “You may ride in the wagon.” “Oh, I wish tomorrow would come right away,” said Kat. Then Kit and Kat said goodbye to Father Vedder and went home with Grandmother and Grandfather. They lived on a little street in the town, where the houses stood in a row close together. The houses were built of brick and had wooden shutters at the windows, and they were so clean they shone in the sun. This is a picture of Grandmother’s house and of Grandmother and Kit and Kat going in. The door opened right into the kitchen. Grandmother put away her shawl and psalm book and scent bottle as soon as she was home. Then she put on a big apron and drew out the round table. 88

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She boiled the kettle and made coffee; and, when it was done, she set the coffee pot on a pretty little porcelain stove on the table to keep hot. She got out bread and cheese and smoked beef and, best of all, a plate of little cakes. Then they all four sat down to eat. I will not tell you how many cakes Kit and Kat ate, but it was a good many. After dinner, Grandmother put away the things, and Kat helped her. Kit sat beside Grandfather in the doorway while he smoked. Pretty soon Grandfather said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Bring me my accordion, Kit.â&#x20AC;? 89

THE DUTCH TWINS Kit ran to the press in the corner. He knew where the accordion was kept. Then Grandfather took the accordion, tipped his head back, shut his eyes and began to play, beating time with one foot. Kat heard the music and came out too. She and Kit sat down on the doorstep, one on each side of Grandfather, to listen. Grandfather played six tunes. Then Grandmother said, “Why don’t we go to the woods to hear the band play?”

ONE SUNDAY â&#x20AC;&#x153;No reason at all,â&#x20AC;? said Grandfather. So very soon they were on their way to a grove on the edge of the town. In the grove a band was playing; and just as the twins and Grandfather and Grandmother came up, it began to play the national hymn of Holland. All the people began to sing. There were a great many people in the grove, and they all sang as aloud as they could; so there was a great sound. Grandfather and Grandmother and Kit and Kat all sang too; for they all knew every word of the hymn. This is what they sang: Let him in whom old Dutch blood flows, Untainted, free and strong; Whose heart for Prince and Country glows, Now join us in our song; Let him with us lift up his voice, And sing in patriot band, The song at which all hearts rejoice, For Prince and Fatherland, For Prince and Fatherland.

THE DUTCH TWINS We brothers, true unto a man, Will sing the old song yet; Away with him who ever can His Prince or Land forget! A human heart glowed in him ne’er, We turn from him our hand, Who callous hears the song and prayer, For Prince and Fatherland, For Prince and Fatherland. Preserve, O God, the dear old ground Thou to our fathers gave; The land where we a cradle found, And where we’ll find a grave! We call, O Lord, to Thee on high, As near death’s door we stand, Oh! Safety, blessing to our cry For Prince and Fatherland, For Prince and Fatherland. Loud ring thro’ all rejoicings here, 92

ONE SUNDAY Our prayer, O Lord, to Thee; Preserve our Prince, his house so dear To Holland great and free! From youth throâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; life, be this our song, Till near to death we stand: O God, preserve our sovâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;reign long, Our Prince and Fatherland, Our Prince and Fatherland. Now, while the people were singing with all their might, and the band was playing, and Kit and Kat were having the

THE DUTCH TWINS most beautiful time they had ever had in their whole lives, what do you think happened? Down the long drive through the trees came a great, splendid carriage, drawn by a pair of beautiful white horses with wavy white tails and manes. There were two soldiers on horseback riding in front of the carriage, and the driver of the carriage was dressed in blue and orange livery. The carriage was open, and in it sat a beautiful, smiling young lady. Beside her sat her husband; and a nurse, in the other seat, held a baby in her arms. When the people saw the carriage and the lady, they waved their caps and shouted, “Long live the Queen!” “Look! Look! Kit and Kat,” said Grandfather. “It is your dear Queen Wilhelmina, and Prince Henry and the little Princess! Wave your hands!” Kit and Kat waved with all their might, but they were so short, and the people crowded beside the driveway so, that neither of them could see. Then Grandfather caught Kit and lifted him up high, and Grandmother did the same with Kat. It was fine to be up so high. Kit and Kat could see 94

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everything better than anyone else there. And when the carriage came by, the queen saw Kit and Kat! She smiled at them, and the nurse held the little Princess up high for them to see! Kit and Kat threw kisses to the little Princess; and the Princess waved her baby hand to Kit and Kat; and then they were all gone, like a bright dream. But the soldiers were better to see even than queens, Kit thought. Kat thought the baby, any baby, was nicer than either. 95

THE DUTCH TWINS When the carriage was out of sight, Grandfather and Grandmother set the twins down on the ground. Everyone began to talk about the Queen, about how sweet she was, and how good; and the band played, and everybody was as happy as they could possibly be. By and by it was time to go home; for, Grandfather said, “Dutch girls and boys must learn to get up early in the morning, especially twins that are going out with the milk cart.” So they went back to Grandfather Winkle’s house; and Grandmother put them to bed in a little cupboard like their own at home, after they had had some supper. And the last thing Kat said that night was, “O Kit, just to think that today we saw the Queen and the soldiers, and the Queen’s baby, and tomorrow we are going to drive in the milk cart! What a beautiful world it is!” Just as they were dropping off to sleep, they heard a great noise in the street. “Clap, clap, clap,” it sounded, eight times. “There goes the Klapper man,” said Grandmother Winkle. “Eight o’clock, and time all honest folk were abed.” 96

V The Day They Drove the Milk Cart The next morning Kit and Kat woke up very early, without anyoneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s calling them. You see, they were afraid they would be too late to go with the milk cart. But Grandfather Winkle had only just gone out to get the milk ready, and they had plenty of time to dress while Grandmother got breakfast. Grandmother helped with the buttons and the hard parts. Grandmother Winkleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s kitchen was quite like the kitchen at home, only a little nicer. It had red tiles on the floor; and it had ever so many blue plates hanging around on the walls, and standing on edge in a row on the shelves. There was a warming pan with a bright brass cover, hanging 98

THE DAY THEY DROVE THE MILK CART on the wall; and I wish you could have seen the pillows and the coverlet on the best bed! Grandmother Winkle had embroidered those all herself,

THE DUTCH TWINS and she was very proud of them. When she had company, she always drew the curtains back so that her beautiful bed would be seen. She said that Kit and Kat were company, and she always left the curtains open when they came to visit her. When the twins were all dressed, Grandmother said, “Mercy sakes! You have on your best clothes! Now that’s just like a man to promise to take you out in your best clothes in a milk wagon! Whatever was Grandfather thinking about!” Kit and Kat thought she was going to say that they couldn’t go, so they dug their knuckles in their eyes and began to cry. But they hadn’t got farther than the first whimper when Grandmother said, “Well, well, we must fix it somehow. Don’t cry now, that’s a good Kit and Kat.” So the twins took their knuckles out of their eyes and began to smile. Grandmother went to the press and brought out two aprons. One was a very small apron. It wouldn’t reach to Kit’s knees. But she put it on him and tied it around his waist. 100

THE DAY THEY DROVE THE MILK CART “This was your Uncle Jan’s when he was a little boy,” she said. “It’s pretty small, but it will help some.” Kit wished that Uncle Jan had taken it with him when he went to America. But he didn’t say so. Then Grandmother took another apron out of the press. It looked as if it had been there a long time. “Kat, you must wear this,” she said. “It was your mother’s when she was a little girl.” Now, this apron was all faded, and it had patches on it of different kinds of cloth. Kat looked at her best dress. Then she looked at the 101

THE DUTCH TWINS apron. Then she thought about the milk cart. She wondered if she wanted to go in the milk cart badly enough to wear that apron over her Sunday dress! She stuck her finger in her mouth and looked sidewise at Grandmother Winkle. Grandmother didn’t say a word. She just looked firm and held up the apron. Very soon Kat came slowly—very slowly—and Grandmother buttoned the apron up behind, and that was the end of that. The twins could hardly eat any breakfast, they were in such a hurry to go. As soon as they had taken the last spoonful, and Grandfather Winkle had finished his coffee, they ran out into the place where the dogs were kept, to help Grandfather harness them. There were two black and white dogs. Their names were Peter and Paul. The wagon was small, just the right size for the dogs; and it was painted blue. The bright brass cans full of milk were already in; and there was a little seat for Kat to sit on. When the last strap was fastened, Grandfather lifted 102

THE DAY THEY DROVE THE MILK CART Kat up and set her on the seat. She held on with both hands.

Then Grandfather gave the lines to Kit, and a little stick for a whip, and told him to walk slowly along beside the dogs. He told him to be sure not to let go of the lines. Grandfather walked behind, carrying some milk cans. Grandmother stood in the door to see them off; and, as 103

THE DUTCH TWINS they started away, Kat took one hand off the cart long enough to wave it to her. Then she held on again; for the bricks in the pavement made the cart joggle a good deal. “We must go first to Vrouw de Vet,” Grandfather called out. “She takes one quart of milk. Go slowly.” At first Kit went slowly. But pretty soon there was a great rattling behind him; and Hans Hite, a boy he knew, drove right past him with his dogcart! He drove fast; and, as he passed Kit, he stuck out his tongue and called out, “Milk for sale! Milk for sale! A milk cart drawn by a pair of snails!” Kit forgot all about going slowly. “Get up!” he said to the dogs, and he touched them with his long stick. Peter and Paul “got up.” They jumped forward and began to run! Kit ran as fast as his legs would go beside the dogs, holding the lines. But the dogs had four legs apiece, and Kit had only two; so you see he couldn’t keep up very well. 104

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Kat began to scream the moment that Peter and Paul began to run. The dogs thought that something that made a dreadful noise was after them, and they ran faster than ever. You see, Grandfather Winkle never in the world screamed like that, and Peter and Paul didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know what to make of it. So they ran and ran and ran. Kat held on the best she could, but she bounced up ever so far in the air every time the cart struck a bump in the street. So did the milk cans; and when they came down 105

THE DUTCH TWINS again, the milk splashed out. Kat didn’t always come down in the same spot. All the spots were hard, so it didn’t really matter much which one she struck as she came down. But Kat didn’t think about that; she just screamed. And Peter and Paul ran and ran, and Kit ran and ran, until he couldn’t run anymore; he just sat down hard on the pavement and slid along. But he didn’t let go of the lines! When Kit sat down, it jerked the dogs so hard that they stopped suddenly. But Kat didn’t stop; she went right on. She flew out over the front of the cart and landed on the ground, among all of Peter and Paul’s legs! Then she stopped going, but she didn’t stop screaming. And, though Kit was a boy, he screamed some too. Then Peter and Paul pointed their noses up in the air and began to howl. Way back, ever so far, Grandfather was coming along as fast as he could; but that wasn’t very fast. All the doors on the street flew open, and all the good housewives came clattering out to see what was the matter. They picked Kat up and told her not to cry, and wiped her 106

THE DAY THEY DROVE THE MILK CART eyes with their aprons, and stood Kit on his feet, and patted the dogs; and pretty soon Peter and Paul stopped barking, and Kit and Kat stopped screaming, and then it was time to find out what had really happened.

Neither of the twins had any broken bones; the good housewives wiggled all their arms and legs, and felt of their bones to see. But shocking things had happened, nevertheless! Kat had torn a great hole in the front of her best dress; and Kit had worn two round holes in the seat of his Sunday clothes, where he slid along on the pavement; and, 107

THE DUTCH TWINS besides that, the milk was slopped all over the bottom of the cart! Just then Grandfather came up. If it hadn’t been that his pipe was still in his mouth, I really don’t know what he might not have said! He looked at the cart, and he looked at the twins. Then he took his pipe out of his mouth and said sternly to Kit, “Why didn’t you do as I told you?”

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THE DAY THEY DROVE THE MILK CART “I did,” said Kit, very much scared. “You told me to be sure to hold tight to the lines, and I did! I never let go once.” “Yes, and look at his clothes,” said one of the women. She turned him around and showed Grandfather the holes. “I told you to go slowly,” said Grandfather. “Now look at the cart, and see what you’ve done by not minding, spoiled your best clothes and Kat’s, and spilled the milk! Go back to Grandmother.” “But I couldn’t mind twice at one time,” said Kit. “I was minding about not letting go.” “Oh dear,” sobbed Kat, “I wish we were four and a half feet high now! If we were, this never would have happened.” Grandfather took the dogs and went on to Vrouw de Vet’s, without another word. The twins took each other’s hands, and walked back to Grandmother’s house. Quite a number of little boys and girls in wooden shoes clattered along with them. Grandmother heard all the noise, and ran to the door to see what was the matter. 109

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“Laws a mercy me, I told you so!” she cried, the moment she saw them. “Look at your clothes! See how you’ve torn them!” “I can’t see the holes in mine,” said Kit. “But I can,” said Kat. And then all the children talked at once; and what with wooden shoes and the tongues all going, Grandmother clapped her hands over her ears to shut out the noise. Then she took Kit and Kat into the kitchen and shut the door. She put on her glasses and got down on the floor so she could see better. Then she turned Kit and Kat all around and looked at the holes. “O! my soul!” she said. She took off the aprons and the torn clothes and put the twins to bed while she mended. She got out a pair of Grandfather’s oldest velveteen 110

THE DAY THEY DROVE THE MILK CART breeches that had been patched a great deal, and found a good piece to patch with. Then she patched the holes in Kit’s breeches so neatly that one had to look very carefully indeed to see that there had ever been any holes there at all.

Then she patched Kat’s dress; and, when it was all done, she shook it out and said to herself, “Seems to me those twins have been quiet for a long time.” She went over to the cupboard bed; and there were Kit and Kat fast asleep; with their cheeks all stained with tears 111

THE DUTCH TWINS and dirt. Grandmother Winkle kissed them. Kit and Kat woke up, and Grandmother dressed them in their Sunday clothes again, and washed their faces and made them feel as good as new.

By and by Grandfather Winkle came home from going about with the milk. Grandmother Winkle scrubbed the cart and made it all clean again; and by noon you would never have known, unless you had looked very, very closelyâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;much more closely than would be politeâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;that anything had happened to the twins or the milk cart, or 112

THE DAY THEY DROVE THE MILK CART their clothes or anything. After they had eaten their dinner, and the dogs were rested and Grandfather had smoked his pipe he said, “Kit, if you think you can mind, I will take you and Kat both home in the dogcart.” Kit and Kat both nodded their heads very hard. “Only, I’ll do the driving myself,” said Grandfather Winkle. And he did.

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THE DUTCH TWINS He put Kit and Kat both on the seat, and he walked slowly beside the cart. They went out on the road beside the canal toward home. They got there just as the sun was getting low in the west, and Vrouw Vedder was going out to feed her chickens.

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VI The Day They Got Their Skates One morning, when Kit and Kat ran out early to feed their ducklings, the frost nipped their noses and ears. “It’s getting colder every day. Very soon winter will come,” Kat said. They ran down to the canal. The old goose and the gander and the goslings—now half grown—were standing on the bank, looking unhappy: there was a thin sheet of ice all over the canal, and they could not go swimming. Kit took a stick and broke the ice. Thin sheets of it, like pieces of broken glass, were soon floating about; and the old goose, the gander, and all the goslings went down the bank in a procession into the water. They swam about among the pieces of ice for a while, but it was so cold that they soon came up on the bank into the sun again and wiggled their tails to shake out the water. 115

THE DUTCH TWINS Then they all sat down in the sun to get their feet warm. Kit and Kat ran up and down the road and played tag until their cheeks were red and they were warm as toast. Then they ran into Vrouw Vedder’s warm kitchen. The kettle was singing on the fire, and there was a smell of coffee in the air. Vrouw Vedder gave the twins some in a large cup. She put in a good deal of milk and gave them each a piece of sugar to sweeten it with. “Is it Sunday?” asked Kat. On Sundays they sometimes had coffee. On other days they had milk. “No,” said Vrouw Vedder; “but it is cold, and I thought a cup of coffee would warm us all up.” While they were drinking their coffee, Kit and Kat talked about the ice, and what fun they would have with their sleds on the canals when winter came. “I tell you what it is, Kat,” said Kit; “I think we’re big enough to have skates. Hans Hite isn’t much bigger than I am, and he had skates last winter. I mean to ask Father this very day.” “Yah,” said Kat—that is the way Dutch twins always say yes— “Yah, and let us be very good and help mother all we 116

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES can. I think maybe they will give skates to good twins quite soon, even if we aren’t very big yet—not big enough to be called Christopher and Katrina.” Vrouw Vedder was heating water and getting out her scrubbing brushes, so Kit and Kat knew that she was going to clean something. “What are you going to scrub today, Mother?” asked Kit. “I’m going to scrub the stable,” said Vrouw Vedder. “It is getting too cold for the cows to stay all night in the pastures. Father means to bring Mevrouw Holstein in tonight, and I want her stable to be nice and clean for her.” “We’ll help you,” said Kit and Kat very politely. “Good children!” their mother said. “You may carry the brushes.” So they opened a door beside the fireplace, and walked right into the stable. The stable was really a part of the house. There were two stalls in the stable. Vrouw Vedder took her pails of water and her brushes and began to scrub. She scrubbed the walls, and the sides of the stalls, and the floor. The twins scrubbed, too, until they were tired; and the stable 117

THE DUTCH TWINS was so clean, you would have liked to live there yourself. “Let’s play out here,” said Kat. “Let’s play house.” “All right,” said Kit. “I’ll be the father, and you be the mother.” “But who will be twins?” said Kat. “Let’s get the ducklings,” said Kit. “They can be twins, of course,” said Kat. “They are, anyway.” So Kit ran out and brought in the ducklings. They were so tame they always ran to Kit and Kat, when they saw them coming. They were almost ducks now, they had grown so big. “Let’s give the twins their dinner,” said Kat. So she got some grain, and they both sat down on a little box and held the ducks in their laps and fed them from their hands. The ducks ate greedily. “You have very bad manners,” said Kat. “You will get your clothes all dirty.” She took two rags and tied them around the ducks’ necks for bibs. The ducks did not like bibs. They quacked. “Now don’t say anything like that,” said Kat. “You must 118

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES do just as you are told and not spill your food.” Then Kit got some water and a spoon and gave the twins a drink, but they did not like the drink either.

“Now we must put them to sleep,” said Kat. They rocked the ducks in their arms, but the ducks squawked dreadfully. “What bad children to cry so!” said Kit. “You can have both the twins,” and he gave his duck to Kat. “You fix a bed for them,” said Kat. So Kit turned up the box they had been sitting on, and put some hay in it; and they put the ducks in on the hay. 119

THE DUTCH TWINS Pretty soon the ducks went to sleep. Kit and Kat ran away to play out of doors and forgot all about them. They didn’t think about them again until Father Vedder came home at night with Mevrouw Holstein. When he put the cow into the stall, he stumbled over the box. It was rather dark in the stable. “Quack, quack!” said the ducks. Kit and Kat were helping Father put the cow into the stall and get some hay for her. When the ducks quacked, Father Vedder said, “What in the world is this?” “Oh, our twins! our twins!” cried Kit and Kat. “Don’t let Mevrouw Holstein step on the twins!” Father Vedder pulled out the box. Kit and Kat each took a duck and carried it out to the poultry house. “Twins are a great care,” said Kit and Kat. “Now is the time to ask,” whispered Kat to Kit, that night, when Father Vedder had finished his supper and was lighting his pipe. “You must ask very politely, just the very politest way you can.” They went and stood before their father. They put their feet together. Kit made a bow, and Kat bobbed a curtsy. 120

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES “Dear parent,” said Kit. “That’s a good start,” whispered Kat. “Go on.” “Well, well, what now?” said Father Vedder. “Dear parent, Kat and I are quite big now. I think we must be nearly four feet and a half high. Don’t you think we are big enough to have skates this winter?” “So that’s it!” said Father Vedder. Then he smoked his pipe again. “There was ice on the canal this morning,” said Kat. “So you think you are big enough to skate, do you?” said Father Vedder, at last. Mother Vedder was clearing away the supper. “What do you think about it, Mother?” said Father Vedder. “They have been very good children,” said the Vrouw. “There are the skates you and I had when we were children. We might try them on and see if they are big enough to wear them. They are in the bag hanging back of the press.” Kit and Kat almost screamed with joy. “Our feet are quite large. I’m sure we can wear them,” they said. Father Vedder got the bag down and took out two pairs 121

THE DUTCH TWINS of skates. They had long curling ends on the runners. The twins sat down on the floor. Father Vedder tried on the skates. “They are still pretty large; but you will grow,” he told the twins. “You may have them if you will be very careful and not let them get rusty. By and by we will teach you to skate.” The twins practiced standing in the skates on the kitchen floor; and, when bedtime came, they took the skates to bed with them.

“O Kit,” said Kat, “I never supposed we’d get them so soon. Did you?” “Well,” said Kit, “you see, we’re pretty big and very good. 122

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES That makes a difference.” “It’s very nice to be good when people notice it, isn’t it?” said Kat. “Yah,” said Kit. “I’m going to be good now right along, all the time; for very soon St. Nicholas will come, and he leaves only a rod in the shoes of bad children. And if you’ve been bad, you have to tell him about it.” “Oh! Oh!” said Kat. “I’m going to be good all the time too. I’m going to be good until after the feast of St. Nicholas, anyway.” Not many days after Kit and Kat got their skates, there came a cold, cold wind. It blew over the fields and over the canals all day and all night long; and in the morning, when the twins looked out, the canal was one shining roadway of ice. Father Vedder came in from the stable with a great pail full of milk. “Winter is here now, for good and all,” he said, as he set the pail down. “The canals are frozen over, and soon it will be the day for the feast of St. Nicholas.” Kit and Kat ran to him and said, both together, “Dear 123

THE DUTCH TWINS Father Vedder, will you please teach us to skate before St. Nicholas Day?” “I’ll see if the ice is strong enough to bear,” said Father Vedder; and he went right down to the canal to see, that very minute. When he came in, he said, “Yes, the ice is strong; and we will go out as soon as you are ready, and try your skates.” Vrouw Vedder said, “I should like to go too,” and Father Vedder said to Kit and Kat, “Your mother used to be the finest skater in the whole village when she was a young girl. You must not let her beat you.” They hurried through with their work, Kit and Kat helped. Then they all put on their heavy shoes and wraps, took their skates over their shoulders, and started for the canal. “If you learn to skate well enough, we will take you to town before the feast of St. Nicholas,” said Father Vedder. “But it comes very soon.” He put on his own skates and Kit’s, and the mother put on her own and Kat’s. “I’m sure we can do it almost right away,” said Kat. 124

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES “Now we’ll show you how to skate,” said Father Vedder. He stood the twins up on the ice. They held each other’s hands. They were afraid to move. Father Vedder took Mother Vedder’s hand. “See,” he said, “like this!” And away they went like two swallows, skimming over the ice. In a minute they were ever so far away.

Kit and Kat felt lonesome, and very queer, when they saw their father and mother flying along in that way. They weren’t used to see them do anything but work, and move about slowly. “It looks easy,” said Kit. “Let’s try it. We must not be afraid.” 125

THE DUTCH TWINS He started with his right leg, pushing it out a little in front of him. But it was very strange how his legs acted. They didn’t seem to belong to him at all! His left leg tried to follow his right, just as it ought to; but, instead, it slid out sidewise and knocked against Kat’s skates. Then both Kat’s feet flew up; and she sat down very hard, on the ice. And Kit came down on top of her. They tried to get up; but, each time they tried, their feet slid away from them. “Oh dear,” said Kat, “we are all mixed up! Are those your feet or mine? I can’t tell which is which!” “They don’t any of them mind,” said Kit. “I can’t stand up on any of them. I’ve tried them all! We’ll just have to wait until Father and Mother come back and pick us out.” “Ice is quite cold to sit on, isn’t it?” said Kat. Soon Father and Mother Vedder came skimming back again. When they saw Kit and Kat, they laughed and skated to them, picked them up, and set them on their feet. “Now I’ll take Kit, and you take Kat,” said Vrouw Vedder to her husband, “and they’ll be skating in no time.” So Kat’s father took her hands, and Kit took hold of his 126

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES mother’s, and they started off. At first the twins’ feet didn’t behave well at all. They seemed to want to do everything they could to bother them. They would sprawl way apart; then they would toe in and run into each other. Many times Kit and Kat would have fallen if Father and Mother Vedder had not held them up; but before the lesson was over, both Kit and Kat could skate a little bit alone. “See, this is the way,” said Vrouw Vedder; and she skated around in a circle. Then she cut a figure like this in the ice. Then Father Vedder did a figure like this S all on one foot. “My!” said Kit and Kat. “I think our parents must skate the best of all the people in the world,” said Kat. “I’m going to someday,” said Kit. “So’m I,” said Kat. After a while Vrouw Vedder said, “It’s time to go home. Not too much the first time.” So they all went back home with their cheeks as red as roses, and their noses too, and such an appetite for dinner! 127

THE DUTCH TWINS But the twins were a little lame next day. Every day after that, Kit and Kat went out with their skates to the ditches and tried and tried to skate as Father and Mother did—they did so want to skate to town and see the sights before the feast of St. Nicholas! They worked so hard that in a week they could skate very well; and then they planned a surprise for their mother. “If you will watch at the window, you’ll see a great sight on the canal very soon,” said Kit to his mother one day. Of course Vrouw Vedder hadn’t the least idea what it would be! Kit and Kat slipped out through the stable and ran down to the ditch. They put on their skates and skated from the ditch out to the big canal. Vrouw Vedder was watching at the window. Soon she saw Kit and Kat go flying by, hand in hand, on the canal! They waved their hands to her. Vrouw Vedder was so pleased that she went to call Father Vedder, who was in the hayloft over the stable. “Come and see Kit and Kat,” she cried. Father Vedder came down from the loft and looked too. 128

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES Then Kit cut a figure like this, S, and Kat cut one like this, 6. The round spot is where she sat down hard, just as she was almost around. When they came into the kitchen Father said, “I think we could take such a fine pair of skaters as that to the Vink with us on our way to town! The ice is very hard and thick for so early in the season, and we will go tomorrow.” “We can see the shops too. St. Nicholas is coming, and the shops are full of fine things,” said Vrouw Vedder. Kit and Kat could hardly wait for tomorrow to come. They polished their skates and made everything ready. “What do you suppose the Vink is?” said Kat to Kit. “I think it is something like a church,” said Kit. “You don’t know what a Vink is, so there,” said Kat. “I think it’s something to eat.” Then Kit changed the subject. “I’ll race you tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll beat,” said Kat. “We’ll see,” said Kit. The next day they started, all four, quite early in the morning: Vrouw Vedder took her basket on her arm. 129

THE DUTCH TWINS “I shall want to buy some things,” she said. Father Vedder lighted his pipe— “To keep my nose warm,” he said. Then they all went down to the canal and put on their skates. “Kat and I are going to race to the first windmill,” said Kit. “I’ll tell you when to start,” said Father Vedder.

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THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES “And I’ll get a cake for the one who wins,” said the mother. “One, two, three!” Away they flew like the wind! Father and Mother Vedder came close behind. Kit was so sure he would beat that he thought he would show off a little. He went zigzag across the canal; once or twice he stopped to skate in curves. Kat didn’t stop for anything. She kept her eyes on the windmill, and she skated as hard as she could. They were getting quite near the mill now. Kit stopped playing and began to skate as fast as he could. But Kat had got the start of him. “I’ll soon get ahead of her,” he thought. “She’s a girl, and I’m a boy.” He struck out with great long sweeps, as long as such short legs could make, but Kat kept ahead; and in another minute there she was at the windmill, quite out of breath, and pointing her finger at Kit! “I beat, I beat,” she said. “Well, I could have beaten if I wanted to,” said Kit. “I’ll get the cake,” said Kat. “I don’t care,” said Kit. But Kat knew that he did. 131

THE DUTCH TWINS “I’ll give you a piece,” she said. Father and Mother Vedder came along then; and when Kit and Kat were rested, they all skated for a long time without saying anything. Then Father Vedder said proudly to his wife, “They keep up as well as anybody! Were there ever such twins!” And Mother Vedder said, “Never!” By and by other people appeared on the canal—men

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THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES and women and children, all skating. They were going to the town to see the sights too. One woman skated by with her baby in her arms. One man was smoking a long pipe, and his wife was carrying a basket of eggs. But the man and woman were good skaters. They flew along, laughing; and no one could get near enough to upset them. As they came nearer to the town, Kit and Kat saw a tent near the place where one canal opened into another. A man stood near the tent. He put his hands together and shouted through them to the skaters, “Come in, come in, and get a drink Of warm sweet milk on your way to the Vink:” “We must be getting quite near the Vink,” Kat said. “I do wonder what it looks like. Do you think it’s alive?” They passed another tent. There a man was shouting, “Come buy a sweet cake; it costs but a cent, Come buy, come buy, from the man in the tent.” 133

THE DUTCH TWINS Vrouw Vedder said, “I promised a cake to the one who beat in the race. We’ll go in here and get it.” So they went to the tent. They bought two cakes, and each ate half of one. Kat broke the cakes and gave them to the others, because she won the race. When they had eaten the cakes, they skated on. The canals grew more and more crowded. There were a good many tents; flags were flying, and the whole place was very gay. At last they saw a big building, with crowds of merry skaters about it. Many people were going in and out. “There’s the Vink,” said Father Vedder. “Where?” said Kit and Kat. He pointed to the building. “Oh!” said Kit. He never said another word about what they had thought it was like. Soon they were inside the Vink. It was a large restaurant. There were many little tables about, crowded with people, eating and drinking. Father Vedder found a table, and they all sat down. 134

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES “Bring us some pea soup,” he said to the waiter. Soon they were eating the hot soup. “This is the best thing I ever had,” said Kit. When they had eaten their soup; they went out of the building and walked through the streets of the town. All the shops were filled with pretty things. The bake shops had wonderful cakes with little candies on top, and there were great cakes made like St. Nicholas himself in his long robes. Kit and Kat flattened their noses against all the shop

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THE DUTCH TWINS windows, and looked at the toys and cakes. “I wish St. Nicholas would bring me that,” said Kit, pointing to a very large St. Nicholas cake. “And I want some of those,” Kat said, pointing to some cakes made in the shapes of birds and fish. Vrouw Vedder had gone with her basket on an errand. Father Vedder and Kit and Kat walked slowly along, waiting for her. Soon there was a great noise up the street. There were shouts, and the clatter of wooden shoes. “Look! Look!” cried Kit. There, in the midst of the crowd, was a great white horse; and riding on it was the good St. Nicholas himself! He had a long white beard and red cheeks, and long robes, with a mitre on his head; and he smiled at the children, who crowded around him and followed him in a noisy procession down the street. Behind St. Nicholas came a cart, filled with packages of all sizes. The children were all shouting at once, “Give me a cake, good St. Nicholas!” or, “Give me a new pair of shoes!” or whatever each one wanted most. “Where is he going?” asked Kit and Kat. 136

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“He’s carrying presents to houses where there are good girls and boys,” Father Vedder said. “For bad children, there is only a rod in the shoe.” “I’m glad we’re so good,” said Kit. “When will he come to our house?” asked Kat. “Not until tomorrow,” said Father Vedder. “But you must fill your wooden shoes with beans or hay for his good horse, tonight; and then perhaps he will come down the 137

THE DUTCH TWINS chimney and leave something in them. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s worth trying.â&#x20AC;? Kit and Kat were in a hurry to get home, for fear the Saint would get there first. It was growing late, so they all went to a waffle shop for their supper. In the shop a woman sat before an open fire. On the fire was a big waffle iron. She made the waffles, put sugar and butter on them, and passed a plate of them to each one. Oh, how good they were!

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THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES When they had eaten their waffles, Father and Mother Vedder and the twins went back to the canal and put on their skates. It was late in the afternoon. They took hold of hands and began to skate toward home, four in a row. Father and Mother Vedder were on the outside, and the twins in the middle. It was dark when they reached home. Vrouw Vedder lighted the fire, while Father Vedder went to feed the cow and see that the chickens and ducks and geese were all safe for the night. Kit and Kat ran for their wooden shoes. They each took one and put some hay in it. This was for St. Nicholas to give to his horse. Father Vedder put the shoes on the mantel. Then they hurried to bed to make morning come quicker.

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THE DUTCH TWINS Father and Mother Vedder sat up late that night. Mother Vedder said it was to prepare the goose for dinner the next day. When the twins woke the next morning, the fire was already roaring up the chimney, and the kitchen was warm as toast. They hopped out of bed and ran for their wooden shoes. Mother Vedder reached up to the mantel shelf for them. Truly, the hay was gone and there in each shoe was a package done up in paper!

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THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES “Oh, he did come! He did come!” cried Kat. “O Mother, you’re sure you didn’t build the fire before he had got out of the chimney?” “I’m sure,” said Vrouw Vedder. “I’ve made the fire on many a St. Nicholas morning, and I’ve never burned him yet!” The twins climbed up the steps to their cupboard bed and sat on the edge of it to open their packages. In Kit’s was a big St. Nicholas cake, like the one in the shop window! And in Kat’s were three cakes like birds, and two like fish! “Just what we wanted!” said Kit and Kat. “Do you suppose he heard us say so?” “St. Nicholas can hear what people think,” said Vrouw Vedder. “He is coming to see you tonight at six o’clock, and you must be ready to sing him a little song and answer any questions he asks you.” “How glad I am that we are so good!” said Kat. “We’ll see what the Saint thinks about that,” said Mother. “Now get dressed; for Grandfather and Grandmother will be here for dinner, and we’re going to 141

THE DUTCH TWINS have roast goose, and there’s a great deal to do.” Kit and Kat set their beautiful cakes up where they could see them while they dressed. “I do wish every day were St. Nicholas Day,” said Kit. “Or the day before,” said Kat. “That was such a nice day!” “All the days are nice days, I think,” said Kit. “I don’t think the dogcart day was so very nice,” said Kat. “We tore our best clothes, and they’ll never, never be so nice again. That was because you didn’t mind!” “Well,” said Kit, “I minded as much as I could. How can I mind two things at one time? You know how well I can think! You know how I thought about Vrouw Van der Kloot’s cakes. But I can’t think how I can mind twice at one time.” “I don’t suppose you can,” said Kat. “But anyway, I’m sorry about my dress.” Just then Vrouw Vedder called them to come and eat their breakfast. Father and Mother Vedder sat down at the little round table and bowed their heads. Kit and Kat stood up. Father 142

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Vedder said grace; and then they ate their salt herring and drank their coffee; and Kit and Kat had coffee too, because it was St. Nicholas morning. It was snowing when, after breakfast, Kit went out with his father to feed the chickens and the pigs, and to see that the cow had something very good that she liked to eat. When they had done that, they called Kat; and she helped throw out some grain on the white snow, so the birds could have a feast, too. It snowed all day. Kit and Kat both helped their mother get the dinner. They got the cabbage and the onions and the potatoes ready; and when the goose was hung upon the 143

THE DUTCH TWINS fire to roast, they watched it and kept it spinning around on the spit, so it would brown evenly. By and by the kitchen was all in order, and you canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t think how clean and homelike it looked! The brasses all around the room had little flames dancing in them, because they were so bright and shiny. Everything was ready for the St. Nicholas feast. The goose was nearly roasted, and there was such a good smell of it in the air!

After a while there was a great stamping of feet at the door; and Vrouw Vedder ran with the broom to brush the snow off Grandfather and Grandmother, who had skated all the way from town, on the canal. When they were 144

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES warmed and dried, and all their wraps put away, Grandfather and Grandmother Winkle looked around the pleasant kitchen; and Grandmother said to Grandfather, “Our Neltje is certainly a good housewife.” Neltje was Vrouw Vedder. And Grandfather said, “There’s only one better one, my dear.” He meant Grandmother Winkle. By and by they all sat down to dinner, and I can’t begin to tell you how good it was! It makes one hungry just to think of it. They had roast goose and onions and turnips and cabbage. They had bread and butter, and cheese, and sweet cakes. “Everything except the flour in the bread, we raised ourselves,” said Vrouw Vedder. “The hens gave us the eggs; and the cow, the butter. The twins helped Father and me to take care of the chickens, and to milk the cow, and to make the butter; so it is our very own St. Nicholas feast that we are eating.” “A farmer’s life is the best life there is,” said Father Vedder. They sat a long time at the table; and Grandfather told 145

THE DUTCH TWINS stories about when he was a boy; and Father Vedder told how Kit and Kat learned to skate; and Kit and Kat told how they saw St. Nicholas riding on a white horse, and how he sent them the very things they wanted; and they all enjoyed themselves very much.

After dinner, Grandmother Winkle sat down in the chimney corner and called Kit and Kat. “Come here,” she said, “and I’ll tell you some stories about St. Nicholas.” 146

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES The twins brought two little stools and sat beside her, one on each side. She took out her knitting; and as the needles clicked in her fingers, she told this story: “Once upon a time, many years ago, three little brothers went out one day to the woods to gather fagots. They were just about as big as you are, Kit and Kat.” “Were they all three, twins?” asked Kat. “The story doesn’t tell about that,” said Grandmother Winkle; “but maybe they were. At any rate, they all got lost in the woods and wandered ever so far, trying to find their way home. But instead of finding their way home, they just got more and more lost all the time. They were very tired and hungry; but, as they were brave boys, not one of them cried.” “It’s lucky that none of those twins were girls,” said Kit. “I’ve even heard of boy twins that cried, when dogcarts ran away, or something of that kind happened,” said Grandmother Winkle. “But you shouldn’t interrupt; it’s not polite.” “Oh!” said Kit very meekly. “Well, as I was saying, they were very lost indeed. Night 147

THE DUTCH TWINS was coming on; and they were just thinking that they must lie down on the ground to sleep, when one of them saw a light shining through the leaves. He pointed it out to the others; and they walked along toward it, stumbling over roots and stones as they went, for it was now quite dark. “As they came nearer, they saw that the light came from the window of a poor little hut on the edge of a clearing. “They went to the door and knocked. The door was opened by a dirty old woman, who lived in the hut with her husband, who was a farmer. “The boys told the old woman that they had lost their way, and asked her if she could give them a place to sleep. She spoke to her husband, who sat crouched over a little fire in the corner; and he told her to give them a bed in the loft. “The three boys climbed the little ladder into the loft and lay down on the hay. They were so tired that they fell asleep at once. The old man and his wife whispered about them over their bit of fire. “‘They are fine-looking boys; and well dressed,’ said the old woman. 148

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES “‘Yes,’ said the old man, ‘and I have no doubt they have plenty of money about them.’ “‘Do you really think so?’ said the wife. “‘I think I’ll find out,’ said the wicked farmer. So he climbed up to the loft and killed the three boys. Then he looked in their pockets for money; but there was no money there. “He was very angry. And he was very much afraid, wicked people are always afraid.” “Are all afraid people wicked?” asked Kat. She wished very much that she were brave. “M-m-m, well, not always,” said Grandmother Winkle. “The wicked farmer was so afraid that he wanted to put the bodies of the three boys where no one would find them. So he carried them down cellar and put them into the pickle tub with his pork.” “Oh! Oh! Oh!” screamed Kat, and she put her hands over her ears. Even Kit’s eyes were very round and big. But Grandmother said, “Now, don’t you be scared until I get to the end of the story. Didn’t I tell you it was all about St. Nicholas? You wait and see what happened! 149

THE DUTCH TWINS “That very same day the wicked farmer went to market with some vegetables to sell. As he was sitting in the market, St. Nicholas appeared, before him. He had on his mitre and his long robes, just as you see him in Kit’s cake. “Have you any pork to sell?” St. Nicholas asked the man. “No,” said the farmer. “What of the three young pigs in your brine tub in the cellar?” said St. Nicholas. The farmer saw that his wicked deed was found out, as all wicked deeds are, sooner or later. He fell on his knees and begged the good Saint to forgive him. St. Nicholas said, “Show me the way to your house.” The farmer left his vegetables unsold in the market and went home at once, the Saint following all the way. When they reached the hut, St. Nicholas went to the pickled-pork tub in the cellar. He waved his staff over the tub, and out jumped the three boys, hearty and well! Then the good Saint took them through the woods and left them in sight of their own home. “Oh, what a good St. Nicholas!” said Kit and Kat. “Tell 150

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES us another.” “Well,” said Grandmother Winkle, “once upon another time there was a very mean man, who had a great deal of money, that often happens. He had, also, three beautiful daughters, that sometimes happens too.” “One day he lost all his money. Now, he cared more for money than for anything else in the world more, even, than for his three beautiful daughters. So he made up his mind to sell them!” “St. Nicholas knew of this wicked plan; so that very night he went to the man’s house and dropped some money through a broken window.” “Why did he do that?” asked Kat. Because the man was selling his daughters to get money. If he had money enough, he wouldn’t sell them. The first night St. Nicholas dropped enough money to pay for the eldest daughter. The next night he took a purse of gold for the second daughter, and dropped it down the chimney. It fell down right in front of the man, as he was getting a coal to light his pipe. The third night the man watched; and when St. Nicholas came, the door flew open, 151

THE DUTCH TWINS and the man ran out. He caught St. Nicholas by his long robe and held him. “O St. Nicholas, Servant of the Lord,” he said, “why dost thou hide thy good deeds?” And from that time on, everyone has known it is St. Nicholas who brings gifts in the night and drops them down the chimney. “Did the man sell his daughter?” asked Kat. “No,” said Grandmother. “He was so ashamed of himself that he wasn’t wicked anymore.” “Does St. Nicholas give everybody presents so they will be good?” asked Kat. “Yes,” said Grandmother, “that’s why bad children get only a rod in their shoes.” “He gave the bad man nice presents to make him good,” said Kit. “Why doesn’t he give bad children nice things to make them good too?” Grandmother Winkle knitted for a minute without speaking. Then she said, “I guess he thinks that the rod is the present that will make them good in the shortest time.” The clock had been ticking steadily along while 152

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES Grandmother had been telling stories, and it was now late in the afternoon. The sky was all red in the west; there were long, long shadows across the snowy fields, and the corners of the kitchen were quite dark. “It’s almost time to expect him, now,” said Vrouw Vedder; and she brought out a sheet and spread it in the middle of the kitchen floor. She stirred up the fire, and the room was filled with the pleasant glow from the flames. Kit and Kat sat on their little stools. Their eyes were very big. At five minutes of six, Vrouw Vedder said, “He will be here in just a few minutes, now. Get up, Kit and Kat, and sing your song!” The twins stood up on the edge of the sheet and began to sing: “St. Nicholas, good, holy man, Put on your best gown; Ride with it to Amsterdam, From Amsterdam to Spain.” While they were singing, there was a sound at the door, 153

THE DUTCH TWINS of someone feeling for the latch. Then the door flew open, and a great shower of sweet cakes and candies fell onto the sheet, all around Kit and Kat! There in the doorway stood St. Nicholas himself, smiling and shaking off the snow! His horse was stamping outside. Kit and Kat could hear it. They stopped singing and hardly breathed, they stood so still. They looked at St. Nicholas with big, big eyes. In one hand St. Nicholas carried two large packages; in the other, a birch rod. “Are there any good children here?” said St. Nicholas. “Pretty good, if you please, dear St. Nicholas,” said Kit in a very small voice. “Children who always mind their mothers and fathers and grandfathers and grandmothers?” said St. Nicholas, “and who do not quarrel?” Kat couldn’t say anything at all, though the Saint looked right at her! Vrouw Vedder spoke. “I think, dear St. Nicholas, they are very good children,” she said. “Then I will leave these for them and carry the rod along to some bad little boy and girl, if I find one,” said St. 154

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES

Nicholas. “There seem to be very few about here. I haven’t left a single rod yet.” And he handed one big package to Kit, and another to Kat. “Thank you,” said Kit and Kat. St. Nicholas smiled at them and waved his hand. Then 155

THE DUTCH TWINS the door shut, and he was gone! Kit and Kat dropped on their knees to pick up the cakes and candies. They passed the cakes and candies around to each one. Vrouw Vedder lighted the candles, and then they all gathered around to see Kit and Kat open their bundles. “You open yours first,” said Vrouw Vedder to Kat. Kat was so excited that she could hardly untie the string. When she got the bundle open, there was a beautiful new Sunday dress much prettier than the torn one had ever been! Oh, how pleased Kat was! She hugged her mother and her grandmother and her father and her grandfather. “I just wish I could hug dear St. Nicholas, too,” she said. Then Kit opened his bundle; and there was a beautiful new velveteen suit, with his very own silver buttons on it! It had pockets in it! He put his hand in one pocket. It had a penny in it! Then he put his hand in the other pocket. There was another penny! “I’m going to see if there’s a pocket in mine,” said Kat. She hunted and hunted and hunted. By and by she found a pocket. And sure enough, there was a penny in that too! 156

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES Then some presents came from somewhere for Father and Mother Vedder and for Grandfather and Grandmother Winkle; and such a time as they all had, opening the bundles and showing their presents!

Then Mother Vedder tried on Kit’s suit and Kat’s dress, to see if they were the right size. They were just right exactly. “St. Nicholas even knows how big we are,” said Kat. “Oh, I wish St. Nicholas Day would last a week,” said 157

THE DUTCH TWINS Kit. “That reminds me,” said Vrouw Vedder, and she looked at the clock. “Half-past ten, and these children still up! Bless my heart, this will never do! Come here, Kit and Kat, and let me undo your buttons!”

158

THE DAY THEY GOT THEIR SKATES “May we take our new clothes to bed with us?” Kat asked. “Yes, just this once,” said Mother Vedder, “because this is St. Nicholas night.” They kissed their Grandfather and Grandmother goodnight, and their Mother and Father, and said their prayers like good children; and then they climbed up into their little cupboard bed, and Vrouw Vedder drew the curtains, so they would go to sleep sooner. “Goodnight, dear little Twins,” she said. And so say we.

159

The Belgian Twins Lucy Fitch Perkins Illustrated by Lucy Fitch Perkins

Preface In this sad hour of the worldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s history, when so many homes have been broken up, and so many hearts burdened with heavy sorrows, it is comforting to think of the many heroic souls who, throughout the struggle, have gone about their daily tasks with unfailing courage and cheerfulness, and by so doing have helped to carry the burdens of the world, and to sustain other hearts as heavy as their own. It is comforting, also, to know that there are many instances of happy reunions after long and unspeakable anxieties, adventures, and trials. This story of two little Belgian refugees is based upon the actual experience of two Belgian children, and the incident of the locket is quite true. The characters of the eel-woman and the mother of the twins have also their living originals, from whose courage and devotion the author has received much inspiration. 165

I The Harvest Field It was late in the afternoon of a long summerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s day in Belgium. Father Van Hove was still at work in the harvestfield, though the sun hung so low in the west that his shadow, stretching far across the level, green plain, reached almost to the little red-roofed house on the edge of the village which was its home. Another shadow, not so long, and quite a little broader, stretched itself beside his, for Mother Van Hove was also in the field, helping her husband to load the golden sheaves upon an old blue farm cart which stood nearby. There were also two short, fat shadows which bobbed briskly about over the green meadow as their owners danced among the wheat sheaves or carried handfuls of fresh grass to Pier, the patient white farm horse, hitched to the cart. These gay shadows belonged to Jan and Marie, 167

THE BELGIAN TWINS sometimes called by their parents Janke and Mie 1, for short. Jan and Marie were the twin son and daughter of Father and Mother Van Hove, and though they were but eight years old, they were already quite used to helping their father and mother with the work of their little farm.

They knew how to feed the chickens and hunt the eggs and lead Pier to water and pull weeds in the garden. In the spring they had even helped sow the wheat and barley, and now in the late summer they were helping to harvest the grain. 1

Pronounced Yanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;kay and MÄ&#x201C;

168

THE HARVEST FIELD The children had been in the field since sunrise, but not all of the long bright day had been given to labor. Early in the morning their fatherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s pitchfork had uncovered a nest of field mice, and the twins had made another nest, as much like the first as possible, to put the homeless field babies in, hoping that their mother would find them again and resume her interrupted housekeeping. Then they had played for a long time in the tiny canal which separated the wheat field from the meadow, where Bel, their black and white cow, was pastured. There was also Fidel, the dog, their faithful companion and friend. The children had followed him on many an excursion among the willows along the riverbank, for Fidel might at any moment come upon the rabbit or water rat which he was always seeking, and what a pity it would be for Jan and Marie to miss a sight like that! When the sun was high overhead, the whole family, and Fidel also, had rested under a tree by the little river, and Jan and Marie had shared with their father and mother the bread and cheese which had been brought from home for their noon meal. Then they had taken a nap in the shade, 169

THE BELGIAN TWINS

for it is a long day that begins and ends with the midsummer sun. The bees hummed so drowsily in the clover that Mother Van Hove also took forty winks, while Father Van Hove led Pier to the river for a drink; and tied him where he could enjoy the rich meadow grass for a while. And now the long day was nearly over. The last level rays of the disappearing sun glistened on the red roofs of the village, and the windows of the little houses gave back 170

THE HARVEST FIELD an answering flash of light. On the steeple of the tiny church the gilded cross shone like fire against the gray of the eastern sky. The village clock struck seven and was answered faintly by the sound of distant chimes from the Cathedral of Malines, miles away across the plain. For some time Father Van Hove had been standing on top of the load, catching the sheaves which Mother Van

171

THE BELGIAN TWINS Hove tossed up to him, and stowing them away in the farm wagon, which was already heaped high with the golden grain. As the clock struck, he paused in his labor, took off his hat, and wiped his brow. He listened for a moment to the music of the bells, glanced at the western sky, already rosy with promise of the sunset, and at the weathercock above the cross on the church steeple. Then he looked down at the sheaves of wheat, still standing like tiny tents across the field. “It’s no use, Mother,” he said at last; “we cannot put it all in tonight, but the sky gives promise of a fair day tomorrow, and the weathercock, also, points east. We can finish in one more load; let us go home now.” “The clock struck seven,” cried Jan. “I counted the strokes.” “What a scholar is our Janke!” laughed his mother, as she lifted the last sheaf of wheat on her fork and tossed it at Father Van Hove’s feet. “He can count seven when it is suppertime! As for me, I do not need a clock; I can tell the time of day by the ache in my bones; and, besides that, there is Bel at the pasture bars waiting to be milked and bellowing 172

THE HARVEST FIELD to call me.” “I don’t need a clock either,” chimed in Marie, patting her apron tenderly. “I can tell time by my stomach. It’s a hundred years since we ate our lunch; I know it is.”

173

THE BELGIAN TWINS “Come, then, my starvelings,” said Mother Van Hove, pinching Marie’s fat cheek, “and you shall save your strength by riding home on the load! Here, Marie, up you go!” She swung Marie into the air as she spoke. Father Van Hove reached down from his perch on top of the load, caught her in his arms, and enthroned her upon the fragrant grain. “And now it is your turn, my Janke!” cried Mother Van Hove, “and you shall ride on the back of old Pier like a soldier going to the wars!” She lifted Jan to the horse’s back, while Father Van Hove climbed down to earth once more and took up the reins. Fidel came back dripping wet from the river, shook himself, and fell in behind the wagon. “U—U!” cried Father Van Hove to old Pier, and the little procession moved slowly up the cart path toward the shining windows of their red-roofed house. The home of the Van Hoves lay on the very outskirts of the little hamlet of Meer. Beside it ran a yellow ribbon of road which stretched across the green plain clear to the city 174

THE HARVEST FIELD of Malines. As they turned from the cart path into the road, the old blue cart became part of a little procession of similar wagons, for the other men of Meer were also late in coming home to the village from their outlying farms. “Good evening, neighbor,” cried Father Van Hove to Father Maes, whose home lay beyond his in the village. “How are your crops coming on?” “Never better,” answered Father Maes. “I have more wheat to the acre than ever before.” “So have I, thanks be to the good God,” answered Father Van Hove. “The winter will find our barns full this year.” “Yes,” replied Father Maes a little sadly, “that is, if we have no bad luck, but Jules Verhulst was in the city yesterday and heard rumors of a German army on our borders. It is very likely only an idle tale to frighten the women and children, but Jules says there are men also who believe it.” “I shall believe nothing of the sort,” said Father Van Hove stoutly. “Are we not safe under the protection of our treaty? No, no, neighbor, there’s nothing to fear! Belgium 175

THE BELGIAN TWINS is neutral ground.” “I hope you may be right,” answered Father Maes, cracking his whip, and the cart moved on.

Mother Van Hove, meanwhile, had hastened ahead of the cart to stir up the kitchen fire and put the kettle on before the others should reach home, and when Father Van Hove at last drove into the farmyard, she was already on the way to the pasture bars with her milk pail on her arm. “Set the table for supper, ma Mie,” she called back, “and do not let the pot boil over! Jan, you may shut up the fowls; 176

THE HARVEST FIELD they have already gone to roost.” “And what shall I do, Mother?” laughed Father Van Hove. “You,” she called back, “you may unharness Pier and turn him out in the pasture for the night! And I’ll wager I shall be back with a full milk pail before you’ve even so much as fed the pig, let alone the other chores—men are so slow!” She waved her hand gayly and disappeared behind the pasture bars, as she spoke. “Hurry, now, my man,” said Father Van Hove to Jan. “We must not let Mother beat us! We will let the cart stand right there near the barn, and tomorrow we can store the grain away to make room for a new load. I will let you lead Pier to the pasture, while I feed the pig myself; by her squeals she is hungry enough to eat you up in one mouthful.”

177

II The Rumors When Mother Van Hove returned from the pasture, fifteen minutes later, her orders had all been carried out. Pier was in the pasture, the hens were shut up for the night, and the pig, which had been squealing with hunger, was row grunting with satisfaction over her evening meal; Fidel was gnawing a bone, and Father Van Hove was already washing his hands at the pump, beside the kitchen door. “You are all good children,” said the mother as she set down her brimming pail and took her turn at the washbasin and the soap. “Jan and Marie, have you washed your hands?” “I have,” called Marie from the kitchen, “and supper is ready and the table set.” “I washed my hands in the canal this morning,” pleaded Jan. “Won’t that do?” 178

THE RUMORS

“You ate your lunch this noon, too,” answered his mother promptly. “Won’t that do? Why do you need to eat again when you have already eaten twice today?” “Because I am hungry again,” answered Jan. 179

THE BELGIAN TWINS “Well, you are also dirty again,” said his mother, as she put the soap in his hands and wiped her own on the clean towel which Marie handed her from the door. She cleaned her wooden shoes on the bundle of straw which lay for the purpose beside the kitchen door; then she went inside and took her place opposite Father Van Hove at the little round oaken table by the window. Marie was already in her chair, and in a moment Jan joined them with a beaming smile and a face which, though clean in the middle, showed a gray border from ear to ear. “If you don’t believe I’m clean, look at the towel!” he said, holding it up. “Oh, my heart!” cried his mother, throwing up her hands. “I declare there’s but one creature in all God’s world that cares nothing for cleanliness! Even a pig has some manners if given half a chance, but boys!” She seized the grimy towel and held it up despairingly for Father Van Hove to see. “He’s just wet his face and wiped all the dirt off on the towel. The Devil himself is not more afraid of holy water than Jan Van Hove is of water of any kind!” she cried. 180

THE RUMORS “Go and wash yourself properly, Janke,” said his father sternly, and Jan disappeared through the kitchen door. Sounds of vigorous pumping and splashing without were heard in the kitchen, and when Jan appeared once more, he was allowed to take his place at the supper table with the family.

Father Van Hove bowed his head, and the twins and their mother made the sign of the cross with him, as he began their grace before meat. “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, Amen,” prayed 181

THE BELGIAN TWINS Father Van Hove. “Hail, Mary, full of Grace.” Then, as the prayer continued, the mother and children with folded hands and bowed heads joined in the petition: “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our death, Amen.” A clatter of spoons followed the grace, and Mother Van Hove’s good buttermilk pap was not long in disappearing down their four hungry throats. The long day in the open air had made the children so sleepy they could scarcely keep their eyes open through the meal. “Come, my children,” said their mother briskly, as she rose from the table, “pop into bed, both of you, as fast as you can go. You are already half asleep! Father, you help them with their buttons, and hear them say their prayers, while I wash up these dishes and take care of the milk.” She took a candle from the chimneypiece as she spoke, and started down cellar with the skimmer. When she came back into the kitchen once more, the children were safely tucked in bed, and her husband was seated by the kitchen door with his chair tipped back against the wall, smoking his evening pipe. Mother Van Hove cleared the table, washed the dishes, and brushed the crumbs from the tiled floor. 182

THE RUMORS

Then she spread the white sand once more under the table and in a wide border around the edge of the room, and hung the brush outside the kitchen door. Father Van Hove smoked in silence as she moved about the room. At last he said to her, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Leonie, did you hear what 183

THE BELGIAN TWINS our neighbor Maes said tonight as we were talking in the road?” “No,” said his wife, “I was hurrying home to get supper.” “Maes said there are rumors of a German army on our frontier,” said Father Van Hove. His wife paused in front of him with her hands on her hips. “Who brought that story to town?” she demanded. “Jules Verhulst,” answered her husband. “Jules Verhulst!” sniffed Mother Van Hove with disdain. “He knows more things that aren’t so than any man in this village. I wouldn’t believe anything on his sayso! Besides, the whole world knows that all the Powers have agreed that Belgium shall be neutral ground, and have bound themselves solemnly to protect that neutrality. I learned that in school, and so did you.” “Yes,” sighed Father Van Hove. “I learned it too, and surely no nation can have anything against us! We have given no one cause for complaint that I know of.” “It’s nonsense,” said his wife with decision. “Belgium is safe enough so far as that goes, but one certainly has to work hard here just to make ends meet and get food for all 184

THE RUMORS the hungry mouths! They say it is different in America; there you work less and get more, and are farther away from meddlesome neighboring countries besides. I sometimes wish we had gone there with my sister. She and her husband started with no more than we have, and now they are rich—at least they were when I last heard from them; but that was a long time ago,” she finished. “Well,” said Father Van Hove, as he stood up and knocked the ashes from his pipe, “it may be that they have more money and less work, but I’ve lived here in this spot ever since I was born, and my father before me. Somehow I feel I could never take root in any other soil. I’m content with things as they are.” “So am I, for the matter of that,” said Mother Van Hove cheerfully, as she put Fidel outside and shut the door for the night. Then, taking the candle from the chimneypiece once more, she led the way to the inner room, where

the

twins

were

already soundly sleeping. 185

III The Alarm For some time the little village of Meer slept quietly in the moonlight. There was not a sound to break the stillness, except once when Mother Van Hoveâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s old rooster caught a glimpse of the waning moon through the window of the chicken house, and crowed lustily, thinking it was the sun. The other roosters of the village, wiser than he, made no response to his call, and in a moment he, too, returned to his interrupted slumbers. But though there was as yet no sound to tell of their approach, the moon looked down upon three horsemen galloping over the yellow ribbon of road from Malines toward the little village. Soon the sound of the horsesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; hoofs beating upon the hardened earth throbbed through the village itself, and Fidel sat up on the kitchen doorstep, pricked up his ears, and listened. He heard the hoofbeats and awakened the echoes with a sharp 186

THE ALARM bark. Mother Van Hove sat up in bed and listened; another dog barked, and another, and now she, too, heard the hoofbeats. Nearer they came, and nearer, and now she could hear a voice shouting. She shook her husband. “Wake up!” she whispered in his ear, “something is wrong! Fidel barks, and I hear strange noises about. Wake up!” “Fidel is crazy,” said Father Van Hove sleepily. “He thinks some weasel is after the chickens very likely. Fidel will attend to it. Go to sleep.” He sank back again upon his pillows, but his wife seized his arm and pulled him up. “Listen!” she said. “Oh, listen! Weasels do not ride on horseback! There are hoofbeats on the road!” “Some neighbor returning late from Malines,” said Father Van Hove, yawning. “It does not concern us.” But his wife was already out of bed, and at the window. The horsemen were now plainly visible, riding like the wind, and as they whirled by the houses their shout thrilled through the quiet streets of the village: “Burghers, awake! Awake! Awake!” 187

THE BELGIAN TWINS Wide awake at last, Father Van Hove sprang out of bed and hastily began putting down his clothes. His wife was already nearly dressed and had lighted a candle. Other lights sparkled from the windows of other houses. Suddenly the bell in the church steeple began to ring wildly, as though it, too, were shaken with a sudden terror. “It must be a fire,” said Father Van Hove. Still fastening her clothing, his wife ran out of the door and looked about in every direction. “I see no fire,” she said, “but the village street is full of people running to the square! Hurry! Hurry! We must take the children with us; they must not be left here alone.” She ran to wake the children, as she spoke, and, helped by her trembling fingers, they, too, were soon dressed, and the four ran together up the road toward the village church. The bell still clanged madly from the steeple, and the vibrations seemed to shake the very flesh of the trembling children as they clung to their mother’s hands and tried to keep up with their father’s rapid strides. They found all the village gathered in front of the little townhall. On its steps stood the Burgomeister and the 188

THE ALARM village priest, and near them, still sitting astride his foamflecked steed, was one of the soldiers who had brought the alarm. His two companions were already far beyond Meer, flying over the road to arouse the villages which lay farther to the east. The church bell suddenly ceased its metallic clatter, and while its deep tones still throbbed through the night air, the wondering and frightened people crowded about the steps in breathless suspense.

The Burgomeister raised his hand. Even in the moonlight it could be seen that he was pale. He spoke quickly. “Neighbors,” he said, “there is bad news! the German army is on our borders! It is necessary for every 189

THE BELGIAN TWINS man of military age and training to join the colors at once in case the army is needed for defense. There is not a moment to lose. This messenger is from headquarters. He will tell you what you are to do.” The soldier now spoke for the first time. “Men of Belgium,” he cried, “your services are needed for your country and your King! The men of Meer are to report at once to the army headquarters at Malines. Do not stop even to change your clothing! We are not yet at war, and our good King Albert still hopes to avert it by an armed peace, but the neutrality of Belgium is at stake, and we must be ready to protect it at any cost, and at an instant’s notice. Go at once to the Brussels gate of Malines. An officer will meet you there and tell you what to do. I must ride on to carry the alarm to Putte.” He wheeled his horse as he spoke, and, turning in his saddle, lifted his sword and cried, “Vive le Roi!” “Vive le Roi! Vive la Belgique!” came in an answering shout from the people of Meer, and he was gone. There was a moment of stunned silence as he rode away, then a sound of women weeping. The Burgomeister came 190

THE ALARM down from the steps of the townhall, said farewell to his wife and children, and took his place at the head of the little group of men which was already beginning form in marching order. The priest moved about among his people with words of comfort. Father Van Hove turned to his wife, and to Jan and Marie, who were clinging to her skirts. â&#x20AC;&#x153;It is only a bad dream, my little ones,â&#x20AC;? he said, patting their heads tenderly;

191

THE BELGIAN TWINS “we shall wake up some day. And you, my wife, do not despair! I shall soon return, no doubt! Our good King will yet save us from war. You must finish the harvest alone— but—” “Fall in!” cried the voice of the Burgomeister, and Father Van Hove kissed his wife and children and stepped forward. Mother Van Hove bravely checked her rising sobs. “We shall go with you to Malines, at any rate,” she said firmly. And as the little group of men started forward along the yellow road, she and many more women and children of the village marched, away with them in the gray twilight which precedes the coming of the dawn. The priest went with his people, praying for them as he walked, in a voice that shook with feeling. The sky was red in the east and the larks were already singing over the quiet fields when the men of Meer, followed by their wives and children, presented themselves at the Brussels gate of the city. 192

IV â&#x20AC;&#x153;For King, for Law and Libertyâ&#x20AC;? At the gate they were met by an officer, who at once took command of the company. There was only a moment for hasty goodbyes before the order to march was given, and the women and children watched the little column stride bravely away up the street toward the armory, where the uniforms and arms were kept. They followed at a little distance and took up their station across the street from the great doors through which the men had disappeared. There was little talking among them. Only the voice of the priest could be heard now and then, as he said a few words to one and another of the waiting women. It was still so early in the morning that the streets of the city were not yet filled with people going to work. Only those, like themselves, concerned with the sad business of war were abroad. To Jan and Marie the long wait seemed endless, but at 193

THE BELGIAN TWINS

last the doors of the armory sprang open; there was a burst of martial music, and a band playing the national hymn appeared. â&#x20AC;&#x153;For King, for law and liberty!â&#x20AC;? thrilled the bugles, and amidst the waving of flags, and the cheers of the people, who had now begun to fill the streets, a regiment of soldiers marched away toward the north. Jan and Marie stood with their mother on the edge of the sidewalk, eagerly 194

“FOR KING, FOR LAW AND LIBERTY” scanning every face as the soldiers passed, and at last Jan shouted, “I see Father! I see Father!” Mother Van Hove lifted her two children high in her arms for him to see, but Father Van Hove could only smile a brave goodbye as he marched swiftly past. “No tears, my children!” cried the priest; “let them see no tears! Send them away with a smile!” And, standing on the edge of the sidewalk, he made the sign of the cross and raised his hand in blessing, as the troops went by. For a time Mother Van Hove and the children ran along the sidewalk, trying to keep pace with the soldiers, but their quick strides were too much for the twins, and it was not long before Marie said, breathlessly, “My legs are too short! I can’t run so fast!” “I can’t too!” gasped Jan. Mother Van Hove stopped short at once, and the three stood still, hand in hand, and watched the soldiers until they turned a corner and disappeared from sight through the Antwerp gate of the city. They were quite alone, for the other women and children had gone no farther than the armory, and were already on their homeward way to Meer. Now for the first 195

THE BELGIAN TWINS time Mother Van Hove gave way to grief, and Jan and Marie wept with her; but it was only for a moment. Then she wiped her eyes, and the twins’ too, on her apron, and said firmly: “Come, my lambs! Tears will not bring him back! We must go home now as fast as we can. There is need there for all that we can do! You must be the man of the house now, my Janke, and help me take your father’s place on the farm; and Marie must be our little housemother. We must be as brave as soldiers, even though we cannot fight.” “I think I could be braver if I had some breakfast,” sobbed Janke. Mother Van Hove struck her hands together in dismay. “I never once thought of food!” she cried. “And I haven’t a red cent with me! We cannot buy a breakfast! We must just go hungry until we get home! But soldiers must often go hungry, my little ones. We must be as brave as they. Come, now. I will be the captain! Forward march!” Jan and Marie stiffened their little backs, as she gave the word of command, and, shoulder to shoulder, they marched down the street toward the city gate to the martial refrain, 196

“FOR KING, FOR LAW AND LIBERTY” “Le Roi, la loi, la liberté,” which Mother Van Hove hummed for them under her breath. It was a long way back to the little farm house, and when at last the three weary pilgrims reached it, they were met by an indignant chorus of protests from all the creatures which had been left behind. Bel was lowing at the pasture bars, the pig was squealing angrily in her pen, the rooster had crowed himself hoarse, and Fidel, patient Fidel, was sitting on guard at the back door. Mother Van Hove flew into the kitchen the moment she reached the house, and in two minutes Jan and Marie were seated before a breakfast of bread and milk. Then she fed the pig, let out the hens, and gave Fidel a bone which she had saved for him from the soup. Last of

all, she

milked the cow, and 197

THE BELGIAN TWINS when this was done, and she had had a cup of coffee herself, the clock in the steeple struck twelve. Even Mother Van Hoveâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s strength was not equal to work in the harvest field that day, but she stowed the load of wheat which had been brought home the night before in the barn, and, after the chores were done at night, she and the twins went straight to bed and slept as only the very weary can, until the sun streamed into their windows in the morning.

198

V Doing a Man’s Work When Jan and Marie awoke, their mother’s bed was empty. “She’s gone to milk the cow,” cried Marie. “Come, Jan, we will surprise her! When she comes back from the pasture, we will have breakfast all ready.” “You can,” said Jan, as he struggled into his

clothes,

and

twisted himself nearly in two trying to do up the buttons in the back; “you can, but I must do a man’s work! I will go out and feed the pig and catch old Pier and 199

THE BELGIAN TWINS hitch him to the cart,” he said importantly. “I must finish the wheat harvest today.” “Ho!” said Marie. “You will spill the pig feed all over yourself! You are such a messy boy!” “I guess I can do it just as well as you can make coffee,” said Jan with spirit. “You’ve never made coffee in your life!” “I’ve watched Mother do it lots of times,” said Marie. “I’m sure I can do it just the same way.” “All right, let’s see you do it, then,” said Jan. And he strode out of the room with his hands in his pockets, taking as long steps as his short legs would permit. When she was dressed and washed, Marie ran to the pump and filled the kettle. Then she stirred the embers of the fire in the kitchen and put on fresh coal. She set the kettle on to boil and only slopped a little water on her apron in doing so. Then she put the dishes on the table. Meanwhile she heard no sound from Jan. She went to the kitchen door and looked out. Jan had already let out the fowls, and was just in the act of feeding the pig. He had climbed up on the fence around the pigpen, and by dint of great effort had succeeded in lifting the heavy pail of feed 200

DOING A MANâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S WORK

to the top of it. He was now trying to let it down on the other side and pour the contents into the trough, but the pig was greedy, and the moment the pail came within reach, she stuck her nose and her fore feet into it. This added weight was too much for poor Jan; down went the pail with a crash into the trough, and Jan himself tumbled suddenly forward, his feet flew out behind, and he was left hanging 201

THE BELGIAN TWINS head down, like a jack knife, over the fence! It was just at this moment that Marie came to the door, and when she saw Jan balancing on the fence and kicking out wildly with his feet, she screamed with laughter. Jan was screaming, too, but with pain and indignation. “Come here and pick me off this fence!” he roared. “It’s cutting me in two! Oh, Mother! Mother!”

Marie ran to the pigpen as fast as, she could go. She snatched an old box by the stable as she ran, and, placing 202

DOING A MAN’S WORK it against the fence, seized one of Jan’s feet, which were still waving wildly in the air, and planted it firmly on the box. “Oh! Oh!” laughed Marie, as Jan reached the ground once more. “If you could only have seen yourself, Jan! You would have laughed, too! Instead of pouring the pig feed on to yourself, you poured yourself on to the pig feed!” “I don’t see anything to laugh at,” said Jan with dignity; “it might have happened to any man.” “Anyway, you’ll have to get the pail again,” said Marie, wiping her eyes. “That greedy pig will bang it all to pieces, if you leave it in the pen.” “I can’t reach it,” said Jan. “Yes, you can,” said Marie. “I’ll hold your legs so you won’t fall in, and you can fish for it with a stick.” She ran for a stick to poke with, while Jan bravely mounted the box again, and, firmly anchored by Marie’s grasp upon his legs, he soon succeeded in rescuing the pail. “Anyway, I guess I’ve fed the pig just as well as you have made the coffee,” he said, as he handed it over to Marie. “Oh, my sakes!” cried Marie; “I forgot all about the coffee!” And she ran back to the kitchen, to find that the 203

THE BELGIAN TWINS kettle had boiled over and put the fire out. Jan stuck his head in the door, just as she got the bellows to start the fire again. “What did I tell you!” he shouted, running out his tongue derisively. “Scat!” said Marie, shaking the bellows at him, and Jan sauntered away toward the pasture with Pier’s halter over his arm. Pier had been eating grass for two nights and a day without doing any work, and it took Jan some time to catch him and put the halter over his head. When at last he returned from the pasture, red and tired, but triumphant, leading Pier, Marie and her mother had already finished their breakfast. “Look what a man we have!” cried Mother Van Hove as Jan appeared. “He has caught Pier all by himself.” “He lifted me clear off my feet when I put his halter on,” said Jan proudly, “but I hung on and he had to come!” “Marie,” cried her mother, “our Jan has earned a good breakfast! Cook an egg for him, while I hitch Pier to the cart. Then, while he and I work in the field, you can put the house in order. There is only one more load to bring in, 204

DOING A MAN’S WORK and we can do that by ourselves.” By noon the last of the wheat had been garnered, and this time Jan drove Pier home, while his mother sat on the load. In the afternoon the three unloaded the wagon and stowed the grain away in the barn to be threshed; and when the long day’s work was over, and they had eaten their simple supper of bread and milk, Mother Van Hove and the children went together down the village street to see their neighbors and hear the news, if there should be any. There were no daily papers in Meer, and now there were no young men to go to the city and bring back the gossip of the day, as there had used to be. The women, with their babies on their arms, stood about in the street, talking quietly and sadly among themselves. On the doorsteps a few old men lingered together over their pipes. Already the bigger boys were playing soldier, with paper caps on their heads, and sticks for guns. The smaller children were shouting and chasing each other through the little street of the village. Jan and Marie joined in a game of blindman’s buff, while Mother Van Hove stopped with the group of women. 205

THE BELGIAN TWINS

“If we only knew what to expect!” sighed the Burgomeister’s wife, as she shifted her baby from one arm to the other. “It seems as if we should know better what to do. In a day or two I shall send my big boy Leon to the city for a paper. It is hard to wait quietly and know nothing.” “Our good King and Queen doubtless know everything,” said the wife of Boer Maes. “They will do better for us than we could do for ourselves, even if we knew all that they do.” 206

DOING A MAN’S WORK “And there are our own brave men, besides,” added Mother Van Hove. “We must not forget them! We are not yet at war. I pray God we may not be, and that we shall soon see them come marching home again to tell us that the trouble, whatever it is, is over, and that we may go on living in peace as we did before.” “It seems a year since yesterday,” said the Burgomeister’s wife. “Work makes the time pass quickly,” said Mother Van Hove cheerfully. “Jan and I got in the last of our wheat today. He helped me like a man.” “Who will thresh it for you?” asked the wife of Boer Maes. “I will thresh it myself, if need be,” said Mother Van Hove with spirit. “My good man shall not come home and find the farm work behind if I can help it.” And with these brave words she said goodnight to the other women, called Jan and Marie, and turned once more down the street toward the little house on the edge of the village. Far across the peaceful twilight fields came the sound of distant bells. “Hark!” said Mother Van Hove to the Twins—“the 207

THE BELGIAN TWINS cathedral bells of Malines! And they are playing ‘The Lion of Flanders!’”

sang the bells, and, standing upon the threshold of her little home, with head held proudly erect, Mother Van Hove lifted her voice and joined the words to the melody. “They will never conquer him, the old Lion of Flanders, so long as he has claws!” she sang, and the twins, looking up into her brave and inspired face, sang too.

208

209

VI At the Church Several days passed quietly by in the little village of Meer. The sun shone, and the wind blew, and the rains fell upon the peaceful fields, just as if nothing whatever had happened. Each day was filled to the brim with hard work. With the help of the twins, Mother Van Hove kept the garden free of weeds and took care of the stock. She even threshed the wheat herself with her husband’s flail, and stored the grain away in sacks ready for the mill. Each evening, when the work was done, the three went down the village street together. One evening, just at dusk, they found nearly the whole village gathered in front of the priest’s house next to the church. Leon, the Burgomeister’s oldest boy, had been to Malines that day and had brought back a paper. The priest was reading from it to the anxious group 210

AT THE CHURCH gathered about him. “Oh, my children,” he was saying, as Mother Van Hove and the twins joined the group, “there is, no doubt, need for courage, but where is there a Belgian lacking in that? Even Julius Caesar, two thousand years ago, found that out! The bravest of all are the Belgians, he said then, and it is none the less true today! The Germans have crossed our eastern frontier. It is reported that they are

211

THE BELGIAN TWINS already burning towns and killing the inhabitants if they resist. God knows what may be before us. Our good King Albert has asked Parliament to refuse the demands of the Germans. In spite of their solemn treaty with us, they demand that we permit them to cross Belgium to attack France. To this our brave King and Parliament will never consent; no true Belgian would wish them to. There is, then, this choice either to submit absolutely to the invasion of our country, or to defend it! The army is already in the field.” There was a moment of heavy silence as he finished speaking. Then the voice of the Burgomeister’s wife was heard in the stillness. “Oh, Mynheer Pastoor,” she said to the priest, “what shall we do? There is no place to go to, we have no refuge!” “God is our refuge and strength, my children,” said the priest, lifting his eyes to heaven. “We have no other! You must stay here, and if the terrible Germans come, hide yourselves away as best you can, until they have passed by. Do not anger them by resisting. Bow your heads to the storm and have faith in God that it may soon pass over.” 212

AT THE CHURCH He turned and led the way toward the little church as he spoke. “Come,” he said, “let us pray before God’s holy altar, and if the enemy comes, seek refuge in the church itself. Surely even the Germans will respect the sanctuary.” Solemnly the people filed into the little church, lighted only by the candles on the altar, and knelt upon the hard floor. The priest left them there, praying silently, while he went to put on the robes of his offices. Then once more he appeared before the altar, and led the kneeling congregation in the litany. “From war and pestilence and sudden death, Good Lord, deliver us,” he prayed at last, and all the people responded with a fervent “Amen.” That night, when she put her children to bed, Mother Van Hove fastened a chain with a locket upon it about Marie’s neck. “Listen, ma Mie,” she said, “and you, too, my little Jan. God only knows what may be before us. This locket contains my picture. You must wear it always about your neck, and remember that your mother’s name is Leonie Van Hove, and your father’s name is Georges Van Hove. If by any chance—which God forbid—we should 213

THE BELGIAN TWINS become separated from one another, keep the locket on your neck, and our names in your memory until we meet again; for if such a thing should happen, do not doubt that I should find you, though I had to swim the sea to do it! For you, my Jan, I have no locket, but you are a man, a brave

214

AT THE CHURCH man, now! You must take care of yourself and your sister, too, if need should arise, and above all, remember this— only the brave are safe. Whatever happens, you must remember that you are Belgians, and be brave!” The children clung to her, weeping, as she finished. “There, there,” she said soothingly: “I had to tell you this so you would be ready to do your best and not despair, whatever might happen, but be sure, my lambs, nothing shall harm you if I can help it, and nothing shall separate us from one another if God so wills. Now, go to sleep!” She kissed them tenderly, and, quite comforted, they nestled down in their beds and soon were asleep. She herself slept but little that night. Long after the children were quiet, she sat alone on the kitchen step in the darkness with Fidel by her side, and listened to the faint sounds of distant guns, and watched the red light in the sky, which told her of the burning of Louvain.

215

VII The Tidal Wave of Germans The next morning dawned bright and clear, and Mother Van Hove and the twins went about their work as usual. The sunshine was so bright, and the whole countryside looked so peaceful and fair, it was impossible to believe that the terrors of the night could be true. “Today we must begin to gather the potatoes,” said Mother Van Hove after breakfast. “Jan, you get the fork and hoe and put them in the wagon, while I milk the cow and Marie puts up some bread and cheese for us to take to the field.” She started across the road to the pasture, with Fidel at her heels, as she spoke. In an instant she was back again, her eyes wide with horror. “Look! Look!” she cried. The dazed children looked toward the east as she pointed. There in the distance, advancing like a great tidal wave, was a long gray line of soldiers on horseback. Already 217

THE BELGIAN TWINS they could hear the sound of music and the throb of drums; already the sun glistened upon the shining helmets and the cruel points of bayonets. The host stretched away across the plain as far as the eye could reach, and behind them the sky was thick with the smoke of fires. “The church! The church!” cried Mother Van Hove. “No, there is not time. Hide in here, my darlings. Quickly! Quickly!” She tore open the door of the earth-covered vegetable cellar as she spoke, and thrust Jan and Marie inside. Fidel bolted in after them. “Do not move or make a sound until all is quiet again,” she cried as she closed the door. There was not room for her too, in the cellar, and if there had been, Mother Van Hove would not have taken it, for it was necessary to close the door from the outside. This she did, hastily, throwing some straw before it. Then she rushed into the house and, snatching up her shining milk pans, flung them upon the straw, as if they were placed there to be sweetened by the sun. No one would think to look under a pile of pans for hidden Belgians, she felt sure. Nearer and nearer came the hosts, and now she could 218

THE TIDAL WAVE OF GERMANS hear the sound of singing as from ten thousand brazen throats, “Deutschland, Deutschland über Alles,” roared the mighty chorus, and in another moment the little village of Meer was submerged in the terrible gray flood. At last, after what seemed to the imprisoned children like a year of darkness and dread, and of strange, terrifying noises of all kinds, the sound of horses’ hoofs and marching feet died away in the distance, and Jan ventured to push open the door of the cavern a crack, just intending to peep out. Immediately there was a crash of falling tinware. Jan quickly drew back again into the safe darkness and waited. As nothing further happened, he peeped out again. This time Fidel, springing forward, flung the doors wide open, and dashed out into the sunshine with a joyous bark. In a moment more Jan and Marie also crawled out of their hiding place after him. For an instant, as they came out into the daylight, it seemed to the children as if they had awakened from a dreadful dream. There stood the farmhouse just as before, with the kitchen door wide open and the sun streaming in upon the sanded floor. There were only the marks of many feet in the soft earth of the 219

THE BELGIAN TWINS

farmyard, an empty pigpen, and a few chicken feathers blowing about the hen house, to show where the invaders had been and what they had carried away with them. Jan and Marie, followed by Fidel, ran through the house. From the front door, which opened on the road; they could see the long gray line sweeping across the fields toward Malines. â&#x20AC;&#x153;The storm has passed,â&#x20AC;? cried Marie, sobbing with grief, 220

THE TIDAL WAVE OF GERMANS “just as Mynheer Pastoor said it would! Mother! Mother, where are you?” They ran from kitchen to bedroom and back again, their terror increasing at every step, as no voice answered their call. They searched the cellar and the loft; they looked in the stable and barn, and even in the doghouse. Their mother was nowhere to be found! “I know where she must be,” cried Jan, at last. “You know Mynheer Pastoor said, if anything happened, we should hide in the church.” Led by this hope, the two children sped, hand in hand, toward the village. “Bel is gone!” gasped Jan, as they passed the pasture bars. “Pier, too,” sobbed Marie. Down the whole length of the deserted village street they flew, with Fidel following close at their heels. When they came to the little church, they burst open the door and looked in. The cheerful sun streamed through the windows, falling in brilliant patches of light upon the floor, but the church was silent and empty. It was some time before they could realize that there was not a human being but themselves in the entire village; all the others had been driven away like sheep, before the invading army. When at last the terrible truth dawned upon them, the two 221

THE BELGIAN TWINS frightened children sat down upon the church steps in the silence, and clung, weeping, to each other. Fidel whined and licked their hands, as though he, too, understood and felt their loneliness.

“What shall we do? What shall we do?” moaned Marie. “There’s nobody to tell us what to do,” sobbed Jan. “We must just do the best we can by ourselves.” “We can’t stay here alone!” said Marie. “But where can we go?” cried Jan. “There’s no place for us to go to!” For a few minutes the two children wept their hearts out 222

THE TIDAL WAVE OF GERMANS in utter despair, but hope always comes when it is most needed, and soon Marie raised her head and wiped her eyes. “Don’t you remember what Mother said when she put the locket on my neck, Jan?” she asked. “She said that she would find us, even if she had to swim the sea! She said no matter what happened we should never despair, and here we are despairing as hard as ever we can.” Jan threw up his chin, and straightened his back. “Yes,” he said, swallowing his sobs, “and she said I was now a man and must take care of myself and you.” “What shall we do, then?” asked Marie. Jan thought hard for a moment. Then he said: “Eat! It must be late, and we have not had a mouthful today.” Marie stood up. “Yes,” said she; “we must eat. Let us go back home.” The clock in the steeple struck eleven as the two children ran once more through the deserted street and began a search for food in their empty house. They found that the invaders had been as thorough within the house as without. Not only had they carried away the grain which their mother had worked so hard to 223

THE BELGIAN TWINS thresh, but they had cleaned the cupboard as well. The hungry children found nothing but a few crusts of bread, a bit of cheese, and some milk in the cellar, but with these and two eggs, which Jan knew where to look for in the straw in the barn, they made an excellent breakfast. They gave Fidel the last of the milk, and then, much refreshed, made ready to start upon a strange and lonely journey the end of which they did not know. They tied their best clothes in a bundle, which Jan hung upon a stick over his shoulder, and were just about to leave the house, when Marie cried out, “Suppose Mother should come back and find us gone!” “We must leave word where we have gone, so she will know where to look for us, of course,” Jan answered capably. “Yes, but how?” persisted Marie. “There’s no one to leave word with!” This was a hard puzzle, but Jan soon found a way out. “We must write a note and pin it up where she would be sure to find it,” he said. “The very thing,” said Marie. They found a bit of charcoal and a piece of wrapping 224

THE TIDAL WAVE OF GERMANS paper, and Jan was all ready to write when a new difficulty presented itself. “What shall I say?” he said to Marie. “We don’t know where we are going!” “We don’t know the way to any place but Malines,” said Marie; “so we’ll have to go there, I suppose.” “How do you spell Malines?” asked Jan, charcoal in hand. “Oh, you stupid boy!” cried Marie. “M-a-l-i-n-e-s, of course!” Jan put the paper down on the kitchen floor and got down before it on his hands and knees. He had not yet learned to write, but he managed to print upon it in great staggering letters:— “DEAR MOTHER WE HAVE GONE TO MALINES TO FIND YOU. JAN AND MARIE.” This note they pinned upon the inside of the kitchen door. “Now we are ready to start,” said Jan; and, calling Fidel, 225

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the two children set forth. They took a shortcut from the house across the pasture to the potato field. Here they dug a few potatoes, which they put in their bundle, and then, avoiding the road, slipped down to the river, and, following the stream, made their way toward Malines. It was fortunate for them that, screened by the bushes and trees which fringed the bank of the river, they saw but 226

THE TIDAL WAVE OF GERMANS little of the ruin and devastation left in the wake of the German hosts. There were farmers who had tried to defend their families and homes from the invaders. Burning houses and barns marked the places where they had lived and died. But the children, thinking only of their lost mother, and of keeping themselves as much out of sight as possible in their search for her, were spared most of these horrors. Their progress was slow, for the bundle was heavy, and the river path less direct than the road, and it was nightfall before the two little waifs, with Fidel at their heels, reached the well-remembered Brussels gate. Their hearts almost stopped beating when they found it guarded by a German soldier. “Who goes there?” demanded the guard gruffly, as he caught sight of the little figures. “If you please, sir, it’s Jan and Marie,” said Jan, shaking in his boots. “And Fidel, too,” said Marie. The soldier bent down and looked closely at the two tearstained little faces. It may be that some remembrance of other little faces stirred within him, for he only said stiffly, “Pass, Jan and Marie, and you, too, Fidel.” And the 227

THE BELGIAN TWINS two children and the dog hurried through the gate and up the first street they came to, their bundle bumping along behind them as they ran. The city seemed strangely silent and deserted, except for the gray-clad soldiers, and armed guards blocked the way at intervals. Taught by fear, Jan and Marie soon learned to slip quietly along under cover of the gathering darkness, and to dodge into a doorway or round a corner, when they came too near one of the stiff, helmeted figures. At last, after an hour of aimless wandering, they found themselves in a large, open square, looking up at the tall cathedral spires. A German soldier came suddenly out of the shadows, and the frightened children, scarcely knowing what they did, ran up the cathedral steps and flung themselves against the door. When the soldier had passed by, they reached cautiously up, and by dint of pulling with their united strength succeeded at last in getting the door open. They thrust their bundle inside, pushed Fidel in after it, and then slipped through themselves. The great door closed behind them on silent hinges and they were alone in the vast stillness of the cathedral. Timidly they crept 228

THE TIDAL WAVE OF GERMANS toward the lights of the altar, and, utterly exhausted, slept that night on the floor near the statue of the Madonna, with their heads pillowed on Fidelâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s shaggy side.

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VIII Granny and the Eels When the cathedral bells rang the next morning for early mass, the children were still sleeping the sleep of utter exhaustion. It was not until the bells had ceased to ring, and the door, opening from the sacristy near their resting place, creaked upon its hinges, that even Fidel was aroused. True to his watchdog instincts, he started to his feet with a low growl, letting the heads of Jan and Marie down upon the floor with a sudden bump. For an instant the awakened children could not remember where they were or what had happened to them. They sat up and rubbed their heads, but the habit of fear was already so strong upon them that they made no sound and instantly quieted Fidel. Again the door creaked, and through it there appeared a tall figure dressed in priestly robes. The children were so near that had they thrust their hands through the railing of the 230

GRANNY AND THE EELS communion bank behind which they were concealed, they might have touched him as he passed before the altar of the Virgin and presented himself in front of the high altar to conduct the mass. His head, as he passed them, was bowed. His face was pale and thin, and marked with lines of deep sorrow. “Oh,” whispered Marie to Jan, “it must be the Cardinal himself. Mother told me about him.” The whisper made such a loud sound in the silence of the great cathedral aisles that Jan was afraid to reply. For answer he only laid his finger upon his lips and crept still farther back into the shadow. Fidel seemed to know that dogs were not allowed in church and that it was necessary for him to be quiet, too, for he crawled back with the children into the sheltering darkness. There were only a few persons in the cathedral, and those few were near the door; so no one saw the children as they knelt with folded hands and bowed heads in their corner, reverently following the service as the Cardinal ate the sacred wafer and drank the communion wine before the altar. Later they were to know his face as the bravest and 231

THE BELGIAN TWINS best beloved in all Belgium next to those of the King and Queen themselves.

When again he passed the kneeling little figures on his return to the sacristy, their lonely hearts so ached for care and protection, and his face looked so kind and pitiful, that they almost dared to make their presence known and to ask for the help they sorely needed. Marie, bolder than Jan, half rose as he passed, but Jan pulled her back, and in another instant the door had closed behind him and he was gone. “Oh,” sobbed Marie under her breath, “he looked so kind! He might have helped us. Why did you pull me back?” “How could we let him see Fidel, and tell him that our 232

GRANNY AND THE EELS dog had slept all night before the altar?” answered Jan. “I shouldn’t dare! He is a great Prince of the Church!” The sound of scraping chairs told them that the little congregation had risen from its knees and was passing out of the church. They waited until everyone had disappeared through the great door, and then made a swift flight down the echoing aisle and out into the sunlight. For a moment they stood hand in hand upon the cathedral steps, clasping their bundle and waiting for the next turn of fortune’s wheel. The bright sunlight of the summer day, shining on the open square, almost blinded them, and what they saw in the square, when their eyes had become used to it, did not comfort them. Everywhere there were German soldiers with their terrible bayonets and pointed helmets and their terrible songs. Everywhere there were pale and desperate Belgians fleeing before the arrogant German invader. “Oh, Jan,” whispered Marie clinging to him, “there are so many people! How shall we ever find Mother? I didn’t know there were so many people in the whole world.” “It isn’t likely that we’ll find her by just standing here, 233

THE BELGIAN TWINS anyway,” answered Jan. “We’ve got to keep going till we get somewhere.” He slung the bundle on his shoulder and whistled to Fidel, who had gone down the steps to bark at a homeless cat. “Come along,” he said to Marie. And once more the little pilgrims took up their journey. At the first corner they paused, not knowing whether to go to the right or to the left. “Which way?” said Marie. Jan stood still and looked first in one direction and then in the other. “Here, guttersnipes, what are you standing here for? Make way for your betters!” said a gruff voice behind them, and, turning, the children found themselves face to face with a German officer dressed in a resplendent uniform and accompanied by a group of swaggering young soldiers. Too frightened to move, the children only looked up at him and did not stir. “Get out of the way, I tell you!” roared the officer, turning purple with rage; “Orderly!” One of the young men 234

GRANNY AND THE EELS sprang forward. He seized Jan by the arm and deftly kicked him into the gutter. Another at the same moment laid his hands on Marie. But he reckoned without Fidel, faithful Fidel, who knew no difference between German and Belgian, but knew only that no cruel hand should touch his beloved Marie, while he was there to defend her. With a fierce growl he sprang at the young orderly and buried his teeth in his leg. Howling with pain, the orderly dropped Marie, while another soldier drew his sword with an oath and made a thrust at Fidel. Fortunately Fidel was too quick for him. He let go his hold upon the leg of the orderly, tearing a large hole in his uniform as he did so, and flung himself directly between the legs of the other soldier who was lunging at him with the sword. The next instant the surprised German found himself sprawling upon the sidewalk, and saw Fidel, who had escaped without a scratch, dashing wildly up the street after Jan and Marie. Beside himself with rage, the soldier drew a revolver and fired a shot, which barely missed Fidel, and buried itself in the doorstep of the house past which he was running. If Jan and Marie had not turned a corner just at that 235

THE BELGIAN TWINS moment, and if Fidel had not followed them, there is no telling what might have happened next, for the young soldier was very angry indeed. Perhaps he considered it beneath his dignity to run after them, and perhaps he saw that Jan and Marie could both run like the wind and he would not be likely to catch them if he did. At any rate, he did not follow. He picked himself up and dusted his clothes, using very bad language as he did so, and followed the officer and his companions up the street. Meanwhile the tired children ran on and on, fear lending speed to their weary legs. Round behind the great cathedral they sped, hoping to find some way of escape from the terrors of the town, but their way was blocked by the smoking ruins of a section of the city which the Germans had burned in the night, and there was no way to get out in that direction. Terrified and faint with hunger, they turned once more, and, not knowing where they were going, stumbled at last upon the street which led to the Antwerp gate. “I remember this place,” cried Jan, with something like joy in his voice. “Don’t you remember, Marie? It’s where we 236

GRANNY AND THE EELS stood to watch the soldiers, and Mother sang for us to march, because we were so tired and hungry.” “I’m tired and hungry now, too,” said poor Marie. “Let’s march again,” said Jan. “Where to?” said Marie. “That’s the way Father went when he marched away with the soldiers,” said Jan, pointing to the Antwerp gate. “Anything is better than staying here. Let’s go that way.” He started bravely forward once more, Marie and Fidel

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THE BELGIAN TWINS following. They found themselves only two wretched atoms in one of the saddest processions in history, for there were many other people, as unhappy as themselves, who were also trying to escape from the city. Some had lived in the section which was now burning; others had been turned out of their homes by the Germans; and all were hastening along, carrying babies and bundles, and followed by groups of older children. Jan and Marie were swept along with the hurrying crowd, through the city gate and beyond, along the river road which led to Antwerp. No one spoke to them. Doubtless they were supposed to belong to someone of the fleeing families, and it was at least comforting to the children to be near people of whom they were not afraid. But Jan and Marie could not keep pace with the swift moving crowd of refugees. They trudged along the highway at their best speed, only to find themselves straggling farther and farther behind. They were half a mile or more beyond the city gate when they overtook a queer little old woman who was plodding 238

GRANNY AND THE EELS steadily along wheeling a wheelbarrow, in front of her. She evidently did not belong among the refugees, for she was making no effort to keep up with them. She had bright, twinkling black eyes, and snow white hair tucked under a snow white cap. Her face was as brown as a nut and full of wrinkles, but it shone with such kindness and goodwill that, when Jan and Marie had taken one look at her, they could not help walking along by her side. “Maybe she has seen Mother,” whispered Marie to Jan. “Let’s ask her!” The little old woman smiled down at them as they joined her. “You’ll have to hurry, my dears, or you won’t keep up with your folks,” she said kindly. “They aren’t our folks,” said Jan. “They aren’t?” said the little old woman, stopping short. “Then where are your folks?” “We haven’t any, not just now,” said Jan. “You see our father is a soldier, and our mother, oh, have you seen our mother? She’s lost!” The little old woman gave them a quick, pitying glance. “Lost, is she?” she said. “Well, now, I can’t just be sure 239

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whether I’ve seen her or not, not knowing what she looks like, but I wouldn’t say I haven’t. Lots of folks have passed this way. How did she get lost?” She sat down on the edge of the barrow and drew the children to her side. “Come, now,” she said, “tell Granny all about it! I’ve seen more trouble than anyone you ever saw in all your life before, and I’m not a mite afraid of it either.” 240

GRANNY AND THE EELS Comforted already, the children poured forth their story. “You poor little lambs!” she cried, when they had finished, “and you haven’t had a bite to eat since yesterday! Mercy on us! You can never find your mother on an empty stomach!” She rose from the wheelbarrow, as she spoke, and trundled it swiftly from the road to the bank of the river, a short distance away. Here, in a sheltered nook, hidden from the highway by a group of willows, she stopped. “We’ll camp right here, and I’ll get you a dinner fit for a king or a duke, at the very least,” she said cheerily. “Look what I have in my wheelbarrow!” She took a basket from the top of it as she spoke. Fidel was already looking in, with his tail standing straight out behind, his ears pointed forward, and the hairs bristling on the back of his neck. There, on some clean white sand in the bottom of the wheelbarrow, wriggled a fine fat eel! “Now I know why I didn’t sell that eel,” cried Granny. “There’s always a reason for everything, you see, my darlings.” 241

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She seized the eel with a firm, well-sanded hand as she spoke, and before you could spell your name backwards, she had skinned and dressed it, and had given the remnants to poor hungry Fidel. “Now, my boy,” she said gayly to Jan as she worked, “you get together some twigs and dead leaves, and you, Big Eyes,” she added to Marie, “find some stones by the river, and we’ll soon have such a stove as you never saw before, and a fire in it, and a bit of fried eel, to fill your hungry stomachs.” Immensely cheered, the children flew on these errands. 242

GRANNY AND THE EELS Then Marie had a bright thought. “We have some potatoes in our bundle,” she said. “Well, now,” cried the little old woman, “wouldn’t you think they had just followed up that eel on purpose? We’ll put them to roast in the ashes. I always carry a pan and a bit of fat and some matches about with me when I take my eels to market,” she explained as she whisked these things out of the basket, “and it often happens that I cook myself a bite to eat on my way home, especially if I’m late. You see, I live a long way from here, just across the river from Boom, and I’m getting lazy in my old age. Early every morning I walk to Malines with my barrow full of fine eels, and sell them to the people of the town. That’s how I happen to be so rich!” “Are you rich?” asked Marie wonderingly. She had brought the stones from the river, and now she untied her bundle and took out the potatoes. Jan had already heaped a little mound of sticks and twigs nearby, and soon the potatoes were cooking in the ashes, and a most appetizing smell of frying eel filled the air. “Am I rich?” repeated the old woman. She looked 243

THE BELGIAN TWINS surprised that anyone could ask such a question. “Of course I’m rich. Haven’t I got two eyes in my head, and a tongue, too, and it’s lucky, indeed, that it’s that way about, for if I had but one eye and two tongues, you see for yourself how much less handy that would be! And I’ve two legs as good as anyone’s, and two hands to help myself with! The Kaiser himself has no more legs and arms than I, and I doubt if he can use them half as well. Neither has he a stomach the more! And as for his heart,” she looked cautiously around as she spoke, “his heart, I’ll be bound, is not half so good as mine! If it were, he could not find it in it to do all the cruel things he’s doing here. I’m sure of that.” For a moment the cheerfulness of her face clouded over; but she saw the shadow reflected in the faces of Jan and Marie, and at once spoke more gayly. “Bless you, yes, I’m rich,” she went on; “and so are you! You’ve got all the things that I have and more, too, for your legs and arms are young, and you have a mother to look for. Not everyone has that, you may depend! And one of these days you’ll find her. Make no doubt of that.” “If we don’t, she’ll surely find us, anyway,” said Jan. “She 244

GRANNY AND THE EELS said she would!” “Indeed and she will,” said the old woman. “Even the Germans couldn’t stop her; so what matter is it, if you both have to look a bit first? It will only make it the better when you find each other again.” When the potatoes were done, the little old woman raked them out of the ashes with a stick, broke them open, sprinkled a bit of salt on them from the wonderful basket, and then handed one to each of the children, wrapped in a plantain leaf, so they should not burn their fingers. A piece of the eel was served to them in the same way, and Granny beamed with satisfaction as she watched her famished guests. “Aren’t you going to eat, too?” asked Marie with her mouth full. “Bless you, yes,” said Granny. “Every chance I get. You just watch me!” She made a great show of taking a piece of the eel as she spoke, but if anyone had been watching carefully, they would have seen her slyly put it back again into the pan, and the children never knew that they ate her share and their own, too. 245

THE BELGIAN TWINS When they had eaten every scrap of the eel, and Fidel had finished the bones, the little old woman rose briskly from the bank, washed her pan in the river, packed it in her basket again, and led the way up the path to the highway once more. Although they found the road still filled with the flying refugees, the world had grown suddenly brighter to Jan and Marie. They had found a friend and they were fed. “Now, you come along home with your Granny,” said the little old woman as they reached the Antwerp road and turned northward, “for I live in a little house by the river right on the way to wherever you want to go!”

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IX Off for Antwerp For several days the children stayed with the little old woman in her tiny cottage on the edge of the river. Each morning they crossed the bridge and stationed them-selves by the Antwerp road to watch the swarm of sadfaced Belgians as they hurried through Boom on their way to the frontier and to safety in Holland. Each day they hoped that before the sun went down they

should see

their

mother among the hurrying multitudes, but each day 248

brought

fresh

OFF FOR ANTWERP disappointment, and each night the little old woman comforted them with fresh hope for the morrow. “You see, my darlings,” said she, “it may take a long time and you may have to go a long way first, but I feel in my bones that you will find her at last. And of course, if you do, every step you take is a step toward her, no matter how far round you go.” Jan and Marie believed every word that Granny said. How could they help it when she had been so good to them! Her courage and faith seemed to make an isle of safety about her where the children rested in perfect trust. They saw that neither guns nor Germans nor any other terror could frighten Granny. In the midst of a thousand alarms she calmly went her accustomed way, and everyone who met her was the better for a glimpse of the brave little brown face under its snowy cap. Early each morning she rose with the larks, covered the bottom of her barrow with clean white sand, and placed in it the live eels which had been caught for her and brought to the door by small boys who lived in the neighborhood. Then, when she had wakened the twins, and the three had had their breakfast 249

THE BELGIAN TWINS together, away she would trudge over the long, dusty road to Malines, wheeling the barrow with its squirming freight in front of her.

Jan and Marie helped her all they could. They washed the dishes and swept the floor of the tiny cottage and made everything tidy and clean before they went to take up their stand beside the Antwerp road. When the shadows grew long in the afternoon, how glad they were to see the sturdy 250

OFF FOR ANTWERP little figure come trudging home again! Then they would run to meet her, and Jan would take the wheelbarrow from her tired hands and wheel it for her over the bridge to the little cottage under the willow trees on the other side of the river. Then Marie’s work was to clean the barrow, while Jan pulled weeds in the tiny garden back of the house, and Granny got supper ready. Suppertime was the best of all, for every pleasant evening they ate at a little table out of doors under the willow trees. One evening, when supper had been cleared away, they sat there together, with Fidel beside them, while Granny told a wonderful tale about the King of the Eels who lived in a crystal palace at the bottom of the river. “You can’t quite see the palace,” she said, “because, when you look right down into it, the water seems muddy. But sometimes, when it is still, you can see the UpsideDown Country where the King of the Eels lives. There the trees all grow with their heads down and the sky is ‘way, ‘way below the trees. You see the sky might as well be down as up for the eels. They aren’t like us, just obliged to crawl 251

THE BELGIAN TWINS around on the ground without ever being able to go up or down at all. The up-above sky belongs to the birds and the down-below sky belongs to the fishes and eels. And I am not sure but one is just as nice as the other.” Marie and Jan went to the river, and, getting down on their hands and knees, looked into the water. “We can’t see a thing!” they cried to Granny. “You aren’t looking the right way,” she answered. “Look across it toward the sunset.” “Oh! Oh!” cried Marie, clasping her hands; “I see it! I see the down-below sky, and it is all red and gold!” “I told you so,” replied Granny triumphantly. “Lots of folks can’t see a thing in the river but the mud, when, if you look at it the right way, there is a whole lovely world in it. Now, the palace of the King of the Eels is right over in that direction where the color is the reddest. He is very fond of red, is the King of the Eels. His throne is all made of rubies, and he makes the Queen tie red bows on the tails of all the little eels.” Jan and Marie were still looking with all their eyes across the still water toward the sunset and trying to see the crystal 252

OFF FOR ANTWERP palace of the eels, when suddenly from behind them there came a loud “Hee-haw, hee-haw.” They jumped, and Granny jumped, too, and they all looked around to see where the sound came from. There, coming slowly toward them along the towpath on the riverbank, was an old brown mule. She was pulling a low, green riverboat by a towline, and a small boy, not much bigger than Jan, was driving her. On the deck of the boat there was a little cabin with white curtains in the tiny windows and two red geraniums in pots standing on the sills. From a clothesline hitched to the rigging there fluttered a row of little shirts, and seated on a box nearby there was a fat, friendly looking woman with two small children playing by her side. The father of the family was busy with the tiller. “There come the De Smets, as sure as you live!” cried Granny, rising from the wheelbarrow, where she had been sitting. “I certainly am glad to see them.” And she started at once down the river to meet the boat, with Jan and Marie and Fidel all following. “Ship ahoy!” she cried gayly as the boat drew near. The boy who was driving the mule grinned shyly. The woman 253

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on deck lifted her eyes from her sewing, smiled, and waved her hand at Granny, while the two little children ran to the edge of the boat; and held out their arms to her. “Here we are again, war or no war!” cried Mother De Smet, as the boat came alongside. Father De Smet left the tiller and threw a rope ashore. “Whoa!” cried the boy 254

OFF FOR ANTWERP driving the mule. The mule stopped with the greatest willingness, the boy caught the rope and lifted the great loop over a strong post on the riverbank, and the “Old Woman” for that was the name of the boat was in port. Soon a gangplank was slipped from the boat to the little wooden steps on the bank, and Mother De Smet, with a squirming baby under each arm, came ashore. “I do like to get out on dry land and shake my legs a bit now and then,” she said cheerfully as she greeted Granny. “On the boat I just sit still and grow fat!” “I shake my legs for a matter of ten miles every day,” laughed Granny. “That’s how I keep my figure!” Mother De Smet set the babies down on the grass, where they immediately began to tumble about like a pair of puppies, and she and Granny talked together, while the twins went to watch the work of Father De Smet and the boy, whose name was Joseph. “I don’t know whatever the country is coming to,” said Mother De Smet to Granny. “The Germans are everywhere, and they are taking everything that they can lay their hands on. I doubt if we ever get our cargo safe to 255

THE BELGIAN TWINS Antwerp this time. We’ve come for a load of potatoes, but I am very much afraid it is going to be our last trip for some time. The country looks quiet enough as you see it from the boat, but the things that are happening in it would chill your blood.” “Yes,” sighed Granny; “if I would let it, my old heart would break over the sights that I see every day on my way to Malines. But a broken heart won’t get you anywhere. Maybe a stout heart will.” “Who are the children you have with you?” asked Mother De Smet. Then Granny told her how she had found Jan and Marie, and all the rest of the sad story. Mother De Smet wiped her eyes and blew her nose very hard as she listened. “I wouldn’t let them wait any longer by the Antwerp road, anyway,” she said when Granny had finished. “There is no use in the world in looking for their mother to come that way. She was probably driven over the border long ago. You just leave them with me tomorrow while you go to town. ‘Twill cheer them up a bit to play with Joseph and the babies.” 256

OFF FOR ANTWERP “Well, now,” said Granny, “if that isn’t just like your good heart!” And that is how it happened that, when she trudged off with her barrow the next morning, the twins ran down to the boat and spent the day rolling on the grass with the babies, and helping Father De Smet and Joseph to load the boat with bags of potatoes which had been brought to the dock in the night by neighboring farmers. When Granny came trundling her barrow home in the late afternoon, she found the children and their new friends already on the best of terms; and that night, after the twins were in bed, she went aboard the “Old Woman” and talked for a long time with Father and Mother De Smet. No one will ever know just what they said to each other, but it must be that they talked about the twins, for when the children awoke the next morning, they found Granny standing beside their bed with their clothes all nicely washed and ironed in her hands. “I’m not going to town this morning with my eels,” she said as she popped them out of bed. “I’m going to stay at home and see you off on your journey!” She did not tell 257

THE BELGIAN TWINS them that things had grown so terrible in Malines that even she felt it wise to stay away. “Our journey!” cried the twins in astonishment. “What journey?” “To Antwerp,” cried Granny. “Now, you never thought a chance like that would come to you, I’m sure, but some people are born lucky! You see the De Smets start back today, and they are willing to take you along with them!” “But we don’t want to leave you, dear, dear Granny!”

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OFF FOR ANTWERP cried the twins, throwing their arms about her neck. “And I don’t want you to go, either, my lambs,” said Granny; “but, you see, there are lots of things to think of. In the first place, of course you want to go on hunting for your mother. It may be she has gone over the border; for the Germans are already in trenches near Antwerp, and our army is nearer still to Antwerp and in trenches, too. There they stay, Father De Smet says, for all the world, like two tigers, lying ready to spring at each other’s throats. He says Antwerp is so strongly fortified that the Germans can never take it, and so it is a better place to be in than here. The De Smets will see that you are left in safe hands, and I’m sure your mother would want you to go.” The children considered this for a moment in silence. At last Jan said, “Do you think Father De Smet would let me help drive the mule?” “I haven’t a doubt of it,” said Granny. “But what about Fidel, our dear Fidel?” cried Marie. “I tell you what I’ll do;” said Granny. “I’ll take care of Fidel for you! You shall leave him here with me until you come back again! You see, I really need good company, and 259

THE BELGIAN TWINS since I can’t have you, I know you would be glad to have Fidel stay here to protect me. Then you’ll always know just where he is.” She hurried the children into their clothes as she talked, gave them a good breakfast, and before they had time to think much about what was happening to them, they had said goodbye to Fidel, who had to be shut in the cottage to

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OFF FOR ANTWERP keep him from following the boat, and were safely aboard the “Old Woman” and slowly moving away down the river. They stood in the stern of the boat, listening to Fidel’s wild barks, and waving their hands, until Granny’s kind face was a mere round speck in the distance.

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X On the Towpath When they could no longer see Granny, nor hear Fidel, the children sat down on a coil of rope behind the cabin and felt very miserable indeed. Marie was just turning up the corner of her apron to wipe her eyes, and Jan was looking at nothing at all and winking very hard, when good Mother De Smet, came by with a baby waddling along on each side of her. She gave the two dismal little faces a quick glance and then said kindly: “Jan, you run and see if you can’t help Father with the tiller, and, Marie, would you mind playing with the babies while I put on the soup kettle and fix the greens for dinner? They are beginning to climb everywhere now, and I am afraid they will fall overboard if somebody doesn’t watch them every minute!” Jan clattered at once across the deck to Father De Smet, 263

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and Marie gladly followed his wife to the open space in front of the cabin where the babies had room to roll about. Half an hour later, when Mother De Smet went back to get some potatoes for the soup, she found Jan proudly steering the boat by himself. 264

ON THE TOWPATH “Oh, my soul!” she cried in astonishment. “What a clever boy you must be to learn so quickly to handle the tiller. Where is Father De Smet?” “Here!” boomed a loud voice behind her, and Father De Smet’s head appeared above a barrel on the other side of the deck. “I’m trying to make the ‘Old Woman’ look as if she had no cargo aboard. If the Germans see these potatoes, they’ll never let us get them to Antwerp,” he shouted.

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THE BELGIAN TWINS “Sh-h-h! You mustn’t talk so loud,” whispered Mother De Smet. “You roar like a foghorn on a dark night. The Germans won’t have any trouble in finding out about the potatoes if you shout the news all over the landscape.” Father De Smet looked out over the quiet Belgian fields. “There’s nobody about that I can see,” he said, “but I’ll roar more gently next time.” There was a bend in the river just at this point, and Jan, looking fearfully about to see if he could see any Germans, for an instant forgot all about the tiller. There was a jerk on the tow rope and a bump as the nose of the “Old Woman” ran into the riverbank. Netteke, the mule, came to a sudden stop, and Mother De Smet sat down equally suddenly on a coil of rope. Her potatoes spilled over the deck, while a wail from the front of the boat announced that one of the babies had bumped, too. Mother De Smet picked herself up and ran to see what was the matter with the baby, while Father De Smet seized a long pole and hurried forward. Joseph left the mule to browse upon the grass beside the towpath and ran back to the boat. His father threw him a pole which was kept for such emergencies, and they both 266

ON THE TOWPATH pushed. Joseph pushed on the boat and his father pushed against the riverbank. Meanwhile poor Jan stood wretchedly by the tiller knowing that his carelessness had caused the trouble, yet not knowing what to do to help. “Never mind, son,” said Mother De Smet kindly, when she came back for her potatoes and saw his downcast face. “It isn’t the first time the ‘Old Woman’ has stuck her nose in the mud, and with older people than you at the tiller, too! We’ll soon have her off again and no harm done.” The boat gave a little lurch toward the middle of the stream. “Look alive there, Mate!” sang out Father De Smet. “Hard aport with the tiller! Head her out into the stream!” Joseph flung his pole to his father and rushed back to Netteke, pulled her patient nose out of a delicious bunch of thistles and started her up the towpath. Jan sprang to the tiller, and soon the “Old Woman” was once more gliding smoothly over the quiet water toward Antwerp. When Father De Smet came back to the stern of the boat, Jan expected a scolding, but perhaps it seemed to the good-natured skipper that Jan had troubles enough already, 267

THE BELGIAN TWINS for he only said mildly, “Stick to your job, son, whatever it is,” and went on covering his potatoes with empty boxes and pieces of sailcloth. Jan paid such strict attention to the tiller after that that he did not even forget when Father De Smet pointed out a burning farmhouse a mile or so from the river and said grimly, “The Germans are amusing themselves again.” For the most part, however, the countryside seemed so quiet and peaceful that it was hard to believe that such dreadful things were going on all about them. While Father De Smet’s eyes, under their bushy brows, kept close watch in every direction, he said little about his fears and went on his way exactly as he had done before the invasion. It was quite early in the morning when they left Boom, and by ten o’clock Joseph was tired of trudging along beside Netteke. He hailed his father. “May I come aboard now?” he shouted. Father De Smet looked at Jan. “Would you like to drive the mule awhile?” he asked. “Oh, wouldn’t I!” cried Jan. “Have you ever driven a mule before?” Father De Smet 268

ON THE TOWPATH asked again. “Not a mule, exactly,” Jail replied, “but I drove old Pier up from the field with a load of wheat all by myself. Mother sat on the load.” “Come along!” shouted Father De Smet to Joseph, and in a moment the gangplank was out and Jan and Joseph had changed places. “May I go, too?” asked Marie timidly of Father De Smet as he was about to draw in the plank. “The babies are both asleep and I have nothing to do.” Father De Smet took a careful look in every direction. It was level, open country all about them, dotted here and there with farmhouses, and in the distance the spire of a village church rose above the clustering houses and pointed to the sky. “Yes, yes, child. Go ahead,” said Father De Smet. “Only don’t get too near Netteke’s hind legs. She doesn’t know you very well and sometimes she forgets her manners.” Marie skipped over the gangplank and ran along the towpath to Jan, who already had taken up Netteke’s reins and was waiting for the signal to start. Joseph took his place 269

THE BELGIAN TWINS at the tiller, and again the “Old Woman” moved slowly down the stream. For some time Jan and Marie plodded along with Netteke. At first they thought it good fun, but by and by, as the sun grew hot, driving a mule on a towpath did not seem quite so pleasant a task as they had thought it would be. “I’m tired of this,” said Jan at last to Marie. “That mule is so slow that I have to sight her by something to be sure that she is moving at all! I’ve been measuring by that farmhouse across the river for a long time, and she hasn’t crawled up to it yet! I shouldn’t wonder if she’d go to sleep some day and fall into the river and never wake up! Why, I am almost asleep myself.” “She’ll wake up fast enough when it’s time to eat, and so will you,” said Marie, with profound wisdom. “Let’s see if we can’t make her go a little faster, anyway,” said Jan, ignoring Marie’s remark. “I know what I’ll do,” he went on, chuckling; “I’ll get some burrs and stick them in her tail, and then every time she slaps the flies off she’ll make herself go faster.” 270

ON THE TOWPATH Marie seized Jan’s arm. “You’ll do nothing of the kind!” she cried. “Father De Smet told me especially to keep away from Netteke’s hind legs.” “Pooh!” said Jan; “he didn’t tell me that. I’m not afraid of any mule alive. I guess if I can harness a horse and drive home a load of grain from the field, there isn’t much I can’t do with a mule!” To prove his words he shouted “U—U” at Netteke and slapped her flank with a long branch of willow. Now, Netteke was a proud mule and she wasn’t used to

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THE BELGIAN TWINS being slapped. Father De Smet knew her ways, and knew also that her steady, even, slow pace was better in the long run than to attempt to force a livelier gait, and Netteke was well aware of what was expected of her. She resented being interfered with. Instead of going forward at greater speed, she put her four feet together, laid back her ears, gave a loud “hee-haw!” and stopped stock-still. “U—U!” shouted Jan. In vain! Netteke would not move. Marie held a handful of fresh grass just out of reach of her mouth. But Netteke was really offended. She made no effort to get it. She simply stayed where she was. Father De Smet stuck his head over the side of the boat. “What is the matter?” he shouted. “Oh, dear!” said Jan to Marie. “I hoped he wouldn’t notice that the boat wasn’t moving.” “Netteke has stopped. She won’t go at all. I think she’s run down!” Marie called back. “Try coaxing her,” cried the skipper. “Give her something to eat. Hold it in front of her nose.” “I have,” answered Marie, “but she won’t even look at it.” 272

ON THE TOWPATH “Then it’s no use,” said Father De Smet mournfully. “She’s balked and that is all there is to it. We’ll just have to wait until she is ready to go again. When she has made up her mind she is as difficult to persuade as a setting hen.” Mother De Smet’s head appeared beside her husband’s over the boat rail. “Oh, dear!” said she; “I hoped we should get to the other side of the line before dark, but if Netteke’s set, she’s set, and we must just make the best of it. It’s lucky it’s dinnertime. We’ll eat, and maybe by the time we are through she’ll be willing to start.” Father De Smet tossed a bucket on to the grass. “Give her a good drink,” he said, “and come aboard yourselves.” Jan filled the bucket from the river and set it down before Netteke, but she was in no mood for blandishments. She kept her ears back and would not touch the water. “All right, then, Crosspatch,” said Jan. Leaving the pail in front of her, he went back to the boat. The gangplank was put out, and he and Marie went on board. They found dinner ready in the tiny cabin, and because it was so small 273

THE BELGIAN TWINS and stuffy, and there were too many of them, anyway, to get into it comfortably, they each took a bowl of soup as Mother De Smet handed it to them and sat down on the deck in front of the cabin to eat it. It was not until the middle of the afternoon that Netteke forgot her injuries, consented to eat and drink, and indicated her willingness to move on toward Antwerp.

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XI The Attack Joseph and his father were both on the towpath when at last Netteke decided to move. As she set her ears forward and took the first step, Father De Smet heaved a sigh of relief. “Now, why couldn’t you have done that long ago, you addlepated old fool,” he said mildly to Netteke. “You have made no end of trouble for us, and gained nothing for yourself! Now I am afraid we shan’t get beyond the German lines before dark. We may even have to spend the night in dangerous territory, and all because you’re just as mulish as, as a mule,” he finished helplessly. Joseph laughed. “Can’t you think of anything mulisher than a mule?” he said. “There isn’t a thing,” answered his father. 276

THE BELGIAN TWINS “Well,” answered Joseph, “there are a whole lot of other things beside balky mules in this world that I wish had never been made. There are spiders, and rats, and Germans. They are all pests. I don’t see why they were ever born.” Father De Smet became serious at once. “Son,” he said sternly, “don’t ever let me hear you say such a thing again. There are spiders, and rats, and balky mules, and Germans, and it doesn’t do a bit of good to waste words fussing because they are here. The thing to do is to deal with them!” Father De Smet was so much in earnest that he boomed these words out in quite a loud voice. Joseph seized his hand. “Hush!” he whispered. Father De Smet looked up. There, standing right in front of them in the towpath, was a German soldier! “Halt!” shouted the soldier. But Netteke was now just as much bent upon going as she had been before upon standing still. She paid no attention whatever to the command, but walked stolidly 278

THE ATTACK along the towpath directly toward the soldier. “Halt!” cried the soldier again. But Netteke had had no military training, and she simply kept on. In one more step she would have come down upon the soldier’s toes, if he had not moved aside just in time. He was very angry. “Why didn’t you stop your miserable old mule when I told you to?” he said to Father De Smet. “It’s a balky mule,” replied Father De Smet mildly, “and very obstinate.” “Indeed!” sneered the soldier; “then, I suppose you have named him Albert after your pig-headed King!” “No,” answered Father De Smet, “I think too much of my King to name my mule after him.” “Oh, ho!” said the German; “then perhaps you have named him for the Kaiser!” Netteke had marched steadily along during this conversation, and they were now past the soldier. “No,” Father De Smet called back, “I didn’t name her after the Kaiser. I think too much of my mule!” The soldier shook his fist after them. “I’ll make you pay 279

THE BELGIAN TWINS well for your impudence!” he shouted. “You and I will meet again!” “Very likely,” muttered Father De Smet under his breath. He was now more than ever anxious to get beyond the German lines before dark, but as the afternoon passed it became certain that they would not be able to do it. The shadows grew longer and longer as Netteke plodded slowly along, and at last Mother De Smet called to her husband over the boat side. “I think we shall have to stop soon and feed the mule or she will be too tired to get us across the line at all. I believe we should save time by stopping for supper. Besides, I want to send over there,” she pointed to a farmhouse not a great distance from the river, “and get some milk and eggs.” “Very well,” said her husband; “we’ll stop under that bunch of willows.” The bunch of willows beside the river which he pointed out proved to be a pleasant, sheltered spot, with grassy banks sloping down to the water. A turn in the river enabled them to draw the “Old Woman” up into their shadows, and because the trees were green and the boat was 280

THE ATTACK green, the reflections in the water were also green, and for this reason the boat seemed very well hidden from view. “I don’t believe we shall be noticed here,” said Father De Smet. “It’s hot on the boat. It would be nice to take the babies ashore while we eat,” said Mother De Smet, running out the gangplank. “I believe we’ll have supper on the grass. You hurry along and get the milk and eggs, and I’ll cook some onions while you are gone.” Jan and Marie ran over the plank at once, and Mother De Smet soon followed with the babies. Then, while Marie watched them, she and Jan brought out the onions and a pan, and soon the air was heavy with the smell of frying onions. Joseph and Jan slipped the bridle over Netteke’s collar and allowed her to eat the rich green grass at the river’s edge. When Father De Smet returned, supper was nearly ready. He sniffed appreciatively as he appeared under the trees. “Smells good,” he said as he held out the milk and eggs toward his wife. “Sie haben recht!” (You are right!), said a loud voice 281

THE BELGIAN TWINS right behind him! Father De Smet was so startled that he dropped the eggs. He whirled about, and there stood the German soldier who had told Netteke to halt. With him were six other men.

“Ha! I told you we should meet again!” shouted the soldier to Father De Smet. “And it was certainly thoughtful of you to provide for our entertainment. Comrades, fall to!” The onions were still cooking over a little blaze of twigs and dry leaves, but Mother De Smet was no longer tending 282

THE ATTACK them. The instant she heard the gruff voice she had dropped her spoon, and, seizing a baby under each arm, had fled up the gangplank onto the boat. Marie followed at top speed. Father De Smet faced the intruders.

“What do you want here?” he said. “Some supper first,” said the soldier gayly, helping himself to some onions and passing the pan to his friends. 283

THE BELGIAN TWINS “Then, perhaps, a few supplies for our brave army. There is no hurry. After supper will do; but first we’ll drink a health to the Kaiser, and since you are host here, you shall propose it!” He pointed to the pail of milk which Father De Smet still held. “Now,” he shouted, “lift your stein and say, ‘Hoch der Kaiser.’” Father De Smet looked them in the face and said not a word. Meanwhile Jan and Joseph, to Mother De Smet’s great alarm, had not followed her, onto the boat. Instead they had flown to Netteke, who was partly hidden from the group by a bunch of young willows near the water’s edge, and with great speed and presence of mind had slipped her bridle over her head and gently started her up the towpath. “Oh,” murmured Joseph, “suppose she should balk!” But Netteke had done her balking for the day, and, having been refreshed by her luncheon of green grass, she was ready to move on. The river had now quite a current, which helped them, and while the soldiers were still having their joke with Father De Smet the boat moved quietly out of sight. 284

THE ATTACK As she felt it move, Mother De Smet lifted her head over the boat’s rail behind which she and the children were hiding, and raised the end of the gangplank so that it would make no noise by scraping along the ground. She was beside herself with anxiety. If she screamed or said anything to the boys, the attention of the soldiers would immediately be directed toward them. Yet if they should by any miracle succeed in getting away, there was her husband left alone to face seven enemies. She wrung her hands. “Maybe they will stop to eat the onions,” she groaned to herself. She held to the gangplank and murmured prayers to all the saints she knew, while Jan and Joseph trotted briskly along the towpath, and Netteke, assisted by the current, made better speed than she had at any time during the day. Meanwhile his captors were busy with Father De Smet. “Come! Drink to the Kaiser!” shouted the first soldier, “or we’ll feed you to the fishes! We want our supper, and you delay us.” Still Father De Smet said nothing. “We’ll give you just until I count ten,” said the soldier, pointing his gun at him, “and if by that time you have not found your 285

THE BELGIAN TWINS tongue—” But he did not finish the sentence. From an unexpected quarter a shot rang out. It struck the pail of milk and dashed it over the German and over Father De Smet too. Another shot followed, and the right arm of the soldier fell helpless to his side. One of his companions gave a howl and fell to the ground. Still no one appeared at whom the Germans could direct their fire. “Snipers!” shouted the soldiers, instantly lowering their guns, but before they could even fire in the direction of the unseen enemy, there was such a patter of bullets about them that they turned and fled. Father De Smet fled, too. He leaped over the frying pan and tore down the riverbank after the boat. As he overtook it, Mother De Smet ran out the gang plank. “Boys!” shouted Father De Smet. “Get aboard! Get aboard!” Joseph and Jan instantly stopped the mule and, dropping the reins, raced up the gangplank, almost before the end of it rested safely on the ground. Father De Smet snatched up the reins. On went the boat at Netteke’s best speed, which seemed no better than a snail’s pace to the fleeing family. Sounds of the skirmish continued to reach their ears, even 286

THE ATTACK when they had gone some distance down the river, and it was not until twilight had deepened into dusk, and they were hidden in its shadows, that they dared hope the danger was passed. It was after ten o’clock at night when the “Old Woman” at last approached the twinkling lights of Antwerp, and they knew that, for the time being at least, they were safe. They were now beyond the German lines in country still held by the Belgians. Here, in a suburb of the city, Father De Smet decided to dock for the night. A distant clock struck eleven as the hungry but thankful family gathered upon the deck of the “Old Woman” to eat a meager supper of bread and cheese with only the moon to light their repast. Not until they had finished did Father De Smet tell them all that had happened to him during the few terrible moments when he was in the hands of the enemy. “They overreached themselves,” he said. “They meant to amuse themselves by prolonging my misery, and they lingered just a bit too long.” He turned to Jan and Joseph. “You were brave boys! If you had not started the boat when you did, it is quite likely they might have got me, after all, 287

THE BELGIAN TWINS and the potatoes too. I am proud of you.” “But, Father,” cried Joseph, “who could have fired those shots? We didn’t see a soul.” “Neither did I,” answered his father; “and neither did the Germans for that matter. There was no one in sight.” “Oh,” cried Mother De Smet, “it was as if the good God himself intervened to save you!” “As I figure it out,” said Father De Smet, “we must have stopped very near the trenches, and our own men must have seen the Germans attack us. My German friend had evidently been following us up, meaning to get everything we had and me too. But the smell of the onions was too much for him! If he hadn’t been greedy, he might have carried out his plan, but he wanted our potatoes and our supper too; and so he got neither!” he chuckled. “And neither did the Kaiser get a toast from me! Instead, he got a salute from the Belgians.” He crossed himself reverently. “Thank God for our soldiers,” he said, and Mother De Smet, weeping softly, murmured a devout “Amen.” Little did Jan and Marie dream as they listened, that this blessing rested upon their own father, and that he had been 288

THE ATTACK one of the Belgian soldiers, who, firing from the trenches, had delivered them from the hands of their enemies. Their father, hidden away, in the earth like a fox, as little dreamed that he had helped to save his own children from a terrible fate.

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XII The Zeppelin Raid When the twins awoke, early the next morning, they found that Father and Mother De Smet had been stirring much earlier still, and that the “Old Woman” was

already

slipping

quietly along among the docks of Antwerp. To their immense surprise they were being towed, not by Netteke, but by a very small and puffy steam tug. They were further astonished to find that Netteke herself was on board the “Old Woman.” “How in the world did you get the mule on to the boat!” gasped Jan, when he saw her. “Led her right up the gangplank just like folks,” answered Father De Smet. “I couldn’t leave her behind and 291

THE BELGIAN TWINS I wanted to get to the Antwerp docks as soon as possible. This was the quickest way. You see,” he went on, “I don’t know where I shall be going next, but I know it won’t be up the Dyle, so I am going to keep Netteke right where I can

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THE ZEPPELIN RAID use her any minute.” There was no time for further questions, for Father De Smet had to devote his attention to the tiller. Soon they were safely in dock and Father De Smet was unloading his potatoes and selling them to the market men, who swarmed about the boats to buy the produce which had been brought in from the country. “There!” he said with a sigh of relief as he delivered the last of his cargo to a purchaser late in the afternoon; “that load is safe from the Germans, anyway.” “How did you find things up the Dyle?” asked the merchant who had bought the potatoes. Father De Smet shook his head. “Couldn’t well be worse,” he said. “I’m not going to risk another trip. The Germans are taking everything they can lay their hands on, and are destroying what they can’t seize. I nearly lost this load, and my life into the bargain. If it hadn’t been that, without knowing it, we stopped so near the Belgian line of trenches that they could fire on the German foragers who tried to take our cargo, I shouldn’t have been here to tell this tale.” 293

THE BELGIAN TWINS “God only knows what will become of Belgium if this state of things continues,” groaned the merchant. “Food must come from somewhere or the people will starve.” “True enough,” answered Father De Smet. “I believe I’ll try a trip north through the back channels of the Scheldt and see what I can pick up.” “Don’t give up, anyway,” urged the merchant. “If you fellows go back on us, I don’t know what we shall do. We depend on you to bring supplies from somewhere, and if you can’t get them in Belgium, you’ll have to go up into Holland.” Mother De Smet leaned over the boat rail and spoke to the two men who were standing on the dock. “You’d better believe we’ll not give up,” she said. “We don’t know the meaning of the word.” “Well,” said the merchant sadly, “maybe you don’t, but there are others who do. It takes a stout heart to have faith that God hasn’t forgotten Belgium these days.” “It’s easy enough to have faith when things are going right,” said Mother De Smet, “but to have faith when things are going wrong isn’t so easy.” Then she remembered 294

THE ZEPPELIN RAID Granny. “But a sick heart won’t get you anywhere, and maybe a stout one will,” she finished. “That’s a good word,” said the merchant. “It was said by as good a woman as treads shoe leather,” answered Mother De Smet. “You are safe while you stay in Antwerp, anyway,” said the merchant as he turned to say goodbye. “Our forts are the strongest in the world and the Germans will never be able to take them. There’s comfort in that for us.” Then he spoke to his horses and turned away with his load. “Let us stay right here tonight,” said Mother De Smet to her husband as he came on board the boat. “We are all in need of rest after yesterday, and in Antwerp we can get a good night’s sleep. Besides, it is so late in the day that we couldn’t get out of town before dark if we tried.” Following this plan, the whole family went to bed at dusk, but they were not destined to enjoy the quiet sleep they longed for. The night was warm, and the cabin small, so Father De Smet and Joseph, as well as the twins, spread bedding on the deck and went to sleep looking up at the stars. 295

THE BELGIAN TWINS They had slept for some hours when they were suddenly aroused by the sound of a terrific explosion. Instantly they sprang to their feet, wide awake, and Mother De Smet came rushing from the cabin with the babies screaming in her arms. “What is it now? What is it?” she cried. “Look! Look!” cried Jan. He pointed to the sky. There, blazing with light, like a great misshapen moon, was a giant airship moving swiftly over the city. As it sailed along, streams of fire fell from it, and immediately there followed the terrible thunder of bursting bombs. When it passed out of sight, it seemed as if the voice of the city itself must rise in anguish at the terrible destruction left in its wake. Just what that destruction was, Father De Smet did not wish to see. “This is a good place to get away from,” he said to the frightened group cowering on the deck of the “Old Woman” after the bright terror had disappeared. When morning came he lost no time in making the best speed he could away from the doomed city of Antwerp which they had thought so safe. 296

THE ZEPPELIN RAID When they had left the city behind them and the boat was slowly making its way through the quiet back channels of the Scheldt the world once more seemed really peaceful to the wandering children. Their way lay over still waters and beside green pastures, and as they had no communication with the stricken regions of Belgium, they had no news of the progress of the war, until, some days later, the

297

THE BELGIAN TWINS boat docked at Rotterdam, and it became necessary to decide what should be done next. There they learned that they had barely escaped the siege of Antwerp, which had begun with the Zeppelin raid. Father De Smet was now obliged to confront the problem of what to do with his own family, for, since Antwerp was now in the hands of the enemy, he could no longer earn his living in the old way. Under these changed conditions he could not take care of Jan and Marie, so one sad day they said goodbye to good Mother De Smet, to Joseph and the babies, and went with Father De Smet into the city of Rotterdam. They found that these streets were also full of Belgian refugees, and here, too, they watched for their mother. In order to keep up her courage, Marie had often to feel of the locket and to say to herself: “She will find us. She will find us.” And Jan, Jan had many times to say to himself, “I am now a man and must be brave,” or he would have cried in despair. But help was nearer than they supposed. Already England had begun to organize for the relief of the Belgian 298

THE ZEPPELIN RAID refugees, and it was in the office of the British Consul at Rotterdam that Father De Smet finally took leave of Jan and Marie. The Consul took them that night to his own home, and, after a careful record had been made of their names and their parentsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; names and all the facts about them, they were next day placed upon a ship, in company with many other homeless Belgians, and sent across the North Sea to England.

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XIII Refugees If I were to tell you all the strange new sights that Jan and Marie saw, and all the things they did in England, it would make this book so big you could not hold it up to read it, so I must skip all about the great house in the southern part of England where they next found themselves. This house was the great country place of a very rich man, and when the war broke out he had given it to be used as a shelter for homeless Belgians. There were the most wonderful woods and parks on the estate, and miles of beautiful drives. There were great gardens and stables and hothouses; and the house was much bigger and finer than any Jan and Marie had ever seen in all their lives. It seemed to them as if they had suddenly been changed into a prince and princess by some fairy wand. They were not alone in all this splendor; other lost little Belgian 301

REFUGEES children were there, and there were lost parents, too, and it seemed such a pity that the lost parents and the lost children should not be the very ones that belonged together, so that everyone could be happy once more. However, bad as it was, it was so much better than anything they had known since the dreadful first night of the alarm that Jan and Marie became almost happy again. At night they and the other homeless children slept in little white cots set all in a row in a great picture gallery. They were given new clothes, for by this time even their best ones were quite worn out, and every day they had plenty of good plain food to eat. Every day more Belgians came, and still more, until not only the big house, but the stable and outbuildings were all running over full of homeless people. One day, after they had been in this place for two or three weeks, Jan and Marie were called into the room where sat the sweet-faced lady whose home they were in. It was like an office, and there were several other persons there with her. The sweet-faced lady spoke to them. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Jan and Marie,â&#x20AC;? she said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;how would you like to go to live with a dear lady 303

THE BELGIAN TWINS in America who would love you, and take care of you, so you need never be lonely and sad again?” “But our mother!” gasped Marie, bursting into tears. “We have not found her!” “You will not lose her any more by going to America,” said the lady, “for, you see, we shall know all about you here, and if your mother comes, we shall be able to tell her just where to find you. Meanwhile you will be safe and well cared for, far away from all the dreadful things that are happening here.” “It is so far away!” sobbed Marie. Jan said nothing; he was busy swallowing lumps in his own throat. “You see, dears,” the lady said gently, “you can be together there, for this woman has no children of her own, and is willing to take both of you. That does not often happen, and, besides, she is a Belgian; I know you will find a good home with her.” “You’re sure we could be together?” asked Jan. “Yes,” said the lady. “Because,” said Jan, “Mother said I must take care of 304

REFUGEES Marie.” “And she said she’d find us again if she had to swim the sea,” said Marie, feeling of her locket and smiling through her tears. “She won’t have to swim,” said the lady. “We will see to that! If she comes here, she shall go for you in a fine big ship, and so that’s all settled.” She kissed their woebegone little faces. “You are going to start tomorrow,” she said. “The good captain of the ship has promised to take care of you, so you will not be afraid, and I know you will be good children.” It seemed like a month to Jan and Marie, but it was really only seven days later that they stood on the deck of the good ship Caspian, as it steamed proudly into the wonderful harbor of New York. It was dusk, and already the lights of the city sparkled like a sky full of stars dropped down to earth. High above the other stars shone the great torch of “Liberty enlightening the World.” “Oh,” gasped Marie, as she gazed, “New York must be as big as heaven. Do you suppose that is an angel holding a candle to light us in?” 305

THE BELGIAN TWINS Just then the captain came to find them, and a few minutes later they walked with him down the gangplank, right into a pair of outstretched arms. The arms belonged to Madame Dujardin, their new mother. “I should have known them the moment I looked at them, even if they hadn’t been with the captain,” she cried to her husband, who stood smiling by her side. “Poor darlings, your troubles

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REFUGEES are all over now! Just as soon as Captain Nichols says you may, you shall come with us, and oh, I have so many things to show you in your new home!â&#x20AC;? She drew them with her to a quieter part of the dock, while her husband talked with the captain, and then, when they had bidden him goodbye, they were bundled into a waiting motor car and whirled away through miles of brilliantly lighted streets and over a wonderful bridge, and on and on, until they came to green lawns, and houses set among trees and shrubs, and it seemed to the children as if they must have reached the very end of the world. At last the car stopped before a house standing some distance back from the street in a large yard, and the children followed their new friends through the bright doorway of their house. Madame Dujardin helped them take off their things in the pleasant hallway, where an open fire was burning, and later, when they were washed and ready, she led the way to a cheerful dining room, where there was a pretty table set for four. There were flowers on the table, and they had chicken for supper, and, after that, ice cream! Jan and 307

THE BELGIAN TWINS Marie had never tasted ice cream before in their whole lives! They thought they should like America very much. After supper their new mother took them upstairs and showed them two little rooms with a bathroom between. One room was all pink and white with a dear little white bed in it, and she said to Marie, “This is your room, my dear.” The other room was all in blue and white with another dear little white bed in it, and she said to Jan, “This is your room, my dear.” And there were clean white nightgowns on the beds, and little wrappers with gay flowered slippers, just waiting for Jan and Marie to put them on. “Oh, I believe it is heaven!” cried Marie, as she looked about the pretty room. Then she touched Madame Dujardin’s sleeve timidly. “Is it all true?” she said. “Shan’t we wake up and have to go somewhere else pretty soon?” “No, dear,” said Madame Dujardin gently. “You are going to stay right here now and be happy.” “It will be a very nice place for Mother to find us in,” said Jan. “She will come pretty soon now, I should think.” “I hope she may,” said Madame Dujardin, tears 308

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twinkling in her eyes. “I’m sure she will,” said Marie. “You see everybody is looking for her. There’s Granny, and Mother and Father De Smet, and Joseph, and the people in Rotterdam, and the people in England, too; and then, besides, Mother is looking for herself, of course!” 309

THE BELGIAN TWINS “She said she would surely find us even if she had to swim the sea,” added Jan.

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XIV The Most Wonderful Part And now comes the most wonderful part of the story! Madame Dujardin prepared a bath and said to Marie: “You may have the first turn in the tub because you’re a girl. In America the girls have the best of everything,” she laughed at Jan, as she spoke. “I will help you undress. Jan, you may get ready and wait for your turn in your own room.” She unbuttoned Marie’s dress, slipped off her clothes, and held up the gay little wrapper for her to put her arms into, and just then she noticed the locket on her neck. “We’ll take this off, too,” she said, beginning to unclasp it. But Marie clung to it with both hands. “No, no,” she cried. “Mother said I was never, never to take it off. It has her picture in it.” “May I see it, dear?” asked Madame Dujardin. “I should like to know what your mother looks like.” Marie nestled 312

THE MOST WONDERFUL PART close to her, and Madame Dujardin opened the locket. For a moment she gazed at the picture in complete silence, her eyes staring at it like two blue lights. Then she burst into a wild fit of weeping, and cried out, “Leonie! Leonie! It is not possible! My own sister’s children!” She clasped the bewildered Marie in her arms and kissed her over and over again. She ran to the door and brought in Jan and kissed him; and then she called her husband. When he came in and saw her with her arms around both children at once, holding the locket in her hands, and laughing and crying both together, he, too, was bewildered. “What in the world is the matter, Julie?” he cried. For answer, she pointed to the face in the locket. “Leonie! Leonie!” she cried. “They are my own sister’s children! Surely the hand of God is in this!” Her husband looked at the locket. “So it is! So it is!” he said in astonishment. “I thought at first you had gone crazy.” “See!” cried his wife. “It’s her wedding gown, and afterward she gave me those very beads she has around her neck! I have them yet!” She rushed from the room and 313

THE BELGIAN TWINS returned in a moment with the beads in her hand. Meanwhile Jan and Marie had stood still, too astonished to do more than stare from one amazed and excited face to the other, as their new father and mother gazed, first at them, and then at the locket, and last at the beads, scarcely daring to believe the testimony of their own eyes. “To think,” cried Madame Dujardin at last, “that I should not have known! But there are many Van Hoves in Belgium, and it never occurred to me that they could be my own flesh and blood. It is years since I have heard from Leonie. In fact, I hardly knew she had any children, our lives have been so different. Oh, it is all my fault,” she cried, weeping again. “But if I have neglected her, I will make it up to her children! It may be, oh, it is just possible that she is still alive, and that she may yet write to me after all these years! Sorrow sometimes bridges wide streams!” Then she turned more quietly to the children. “You see, dears,” she said, “I left Belgium many years ago, and came with your uncle to this country. We were poor when we came, but your uncle has prospered as one can in America. At first Leonie and I wrote regularly to 314

THE MOST WONDERFUL PART each other. Then she grew more and more busy, and we seemed to have no ties in common, so that at last we lost sight of each other altogether.” She opened her arms to Marie and Jan as she spoke, and held them for some time in a close embrace. Finally she lifted her head and laughed. “This will never do!” she exclaimed. “You must have your baths, even if you are my own dear niece and nephew. The water must be perfectly cold by this time!” She went into the bathroom, turned on more hot water, and popped Marie into the tub. In half an hour both children had said their prayers and were tucked away for the night in their clean white beds. Wonderful days followed for Jan and Marie. They began to go to school; they had pretty clothes and many toys, and began to make friends among the little American children of the neighborhood. But in the midst of these new joys they did not forget their mother, still looking for them, or their father, now fighting, as they supposed, in the cruel trenches of Belgium. But at last there came a day when Aunt Julie received a letter with a foreign postmark. She 315

THE BELGIAN TWINS opened it, with trembling fingers, and when she saw that it began, “My dear Sister Julie,” she wept so for joy that she could not see to read it, and her husband had to read it for her. This was the letter: You will perhaps wonder at hearing from me after the long years of silence that have passed, but I have never doubted the goodness of your heart, my Julie, nor your love for your poor Leonie, even though our paths in life have led such different ways. And now I must tell you of the sorrows which have broken my heart. Georges was obliged to go into the army at a moment’s notice when the war broke out. A few days later the Germans swept through Meer, driving the people before them like chaff before the wind. As our house was on the edge of the village, I was the first to see them coming. I hid the children in the vegetable cellar, but before I could get to a hiding place for myself, they swept over the town, driving every man, woman, and child before them. 316

THE MOST WONDERFUL PART To turn back then was impossible, and it was only after weeks of hardship and danger that I at last succeeded in struggling through the territory occupied by Germans to the empty city of Malines, and the deserted village where we had been so happy! On the kitchen door of our home I found a paper pinned. On it was printed, “Dear Mother— We have gone to Malines to find you—Jan and Marie.” Since then I have searched every place where there seemed any possibility of my finding my dear children, but no trace of them can I find. Then, through friends in Antwerp, I learned that Georges had been wounded and was in a hospital there and I went at once to find him. He had lost an arm in the fighting before Antwerp and was removed to Holland after the siege began. Here we have remained since, still hoping God would hear our prayers and give us news of our dear children. It would even be a comfort to know surely of their death, and if I could know that they were alive and well, I think I should die of joy. Georges can fight no 317

THE BELGIAN TWINS more; our home is lost; we are beggars until this war is over and our country once more restored to us. I am now at work in a factory, earning what keeps body and soul together. Georges must soon leave the hospital, then, God knows what may befall us. How I wish we had been wise like you, my Julie, and your Paul, and that we had gone with you to America years ago! I might then have my children with me in comfort. If you get this letter, write to your heartbroken LEONIE. It was not a letter that went back that very day; it was a cablegram, and it said: Jan and Marie are safe with me. Am sending money with this to the Bank of Holland, for your passage to America. Come at once. JULIE. People do not die of joy, or I am sure that Father and 318

THE MOST WONDERFUL PART Mother Van Hove would never have survived the reading of that message. Instead it put such new strength and energy into their weary souls and bodies that two days later they were on their way to England, and a week later still they stood on the deck of the Arabia as it steamed into New York Harbor. Jan and Marie with Uncle Paul and Aunt Julie met them at the dock, and there are very few meetings, this side of heaven, like the reunion of those six persons on that day. The story of that first evening together can hardly be told. First. Father and Mother Van Hove listened to Jan and Marie as they told of their wanderings with Fidel, of the little old eel woman, of Father and Mother De Smet, of the attack by Germans and of the friends they found in Holland and in England; and when everybody had cried a good deal about that, Father Van Hove told what had happened to him; then Mother Van Hove told of her long and perilous search for her children; and there were more tears of thankfulness and joy, until it seemed as if their hearts were filled to the brim and running over. But when, last of all, Uncle Paul told of the plans which he and Aunt 319

THE BELGIAN TWINS Julie had made for the family, they found there was room in their hearts for still more joy. “I have a farm in the country,” said Uncle Paul. “It is not very far from New York. There is a good house on it; it is already stocked. I need a farmer to take care of the place for me, and trustworthy help is hard to get here. If you will manage it for me, Brother Georges, I shall have no further anxiety about it, and shall expect to enjoy the fruits of it as

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THE MOST WONDERFUL PART I have never yet been able to do. Leonie shall make some of her good butter for our city table, and the children,” here he pinched Marie’s cheek, now round and rosy once more. “The children shall pick berries and help on the farm all summer. In winter they can come back to Uncle Paul and Aunt Julie and go to school here, for they are our children now, as well as yours.” Father Van Hove rose, stretched out his one hand, and, grasping Uncle Paul’s, tried to thank him, but his voice failed. “Don’t say a word, old man,” said Uncle Paul, clasping Father Van Hove’s hand with both of his. “All the world owes a debt to Belgium which it can never pay. Her courage and devotion have saved the rest of us from the miseries she has borne so bravely. If you got your just deserts, you’d get much more than I can ever give you.” In the end it all came about just as Uncle Paul had said, and the Van Hoves are living in comfort and happiness on that farm this very day. THE END 321