Hans Brinker, or the Silver Skates / Серебряные коньки. Книга для чтения на английском языке. Мэри Мейпс Додж

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      Jacob and Ben had obtained permission to go on a long skating journey – no less a one than from Broek to The Hague, the capital of Holland, a distance of nearly fifty miles[80]!

      “And now, boys,” added Jacob, when he had told the plan, “who will go with us?”

      “I will! I will!” cried the boys eagerly.

      “And so will I,” ventured little Voostenwalbert.

      “Ha! ha!” laughed Jacob, holding his fat sides and shaking his puffy cheeks. “YOU go? Such a little fellow as you? Why, youngster, you haven’t left off your pads yet!”

      Now, in Holland very young children wear a thin, padded cushion around their heads, surmounted with a framework of whalebone and ribbon, to protect them in case of a fall; and it is the dividing line between babyhood and childhood when they leave it off. Voost had arrived at this dignity several years before; consequently Jacob’s insult was rather to great for endurance[81].

      “Look out what you say!” he squeaked. “Lucky for you when you can leave off YOUR pads – you’re padded all over!”

      “Ha! ha!” roared all the boys except Master Dobbs, who could not understand. “Ha! ha!” – and the good-natured Jacob laughed more than any.

      “It ish my fat – yaw – he say I bees pad mit fat!” he explained to Ben.

      So a vote was passed unanimously in favor of allowing the now popular Voost to join the party, if his parents would consent.

      “Good night!” sang out the happy youngster, skating homeward with all his might.

      “Good night!”

      “We can stop at Haarlem, Jacob, and show your cousin the big organ,” said Peter van Holp eagerly, “and at Leyden, too, where there’s no end to the sights; and spend a day and night at the Hague, for my married sister, who lives there, will be delighted to see us; and the next morning we can start for home.”

      “All right!” responded Jacob, who was not much of a talker.

      Ludwig had been regarding his brother with enthusiastic admiration.

      “Hurrah for you, Pete! It takes you to make plans! Mother’ll be as full of it as we are when we tell her we can take her love direct to sister Van Gend. My, but it’s cold,” he added. “Cold enough to take a fellow’s head off his shoulders. We’d better go home.”

      “What if it is cold[82], old Tender-skin?” cried Carl, who was busily practicing a step he called the “double edge.” “Great skating we should have by this time, if it was as warm as it was last December. Don’t you know that if it wasn’t an extra cold winter, and an early one into the bargain, we couldn’t go?”

      “I know it’s an extra cold night anyhow,” said Ludwig. “Whew! I’m going home!”

      Peter van Holp took out a bulgy gold watch and, holding it toward the moonlight as well as his benumbed fingers would permit, called out, “Halloo! It’s nearly eight o’clock! Saint Nicholas is about by this time, and I, for one, want to see the little ones stare. Good night!”

      “Good night!” cried one and all, and off they started, shouting, singing, and laughing as they flew along.

      Where were Gretel and Hans?

      Ah, how suddenly joy sometimes comes to an end!

      They had skated about an hour, keeping aloof from the others, quite contented with each other, and Gretel had exclaimed, “Ah, Hans, how beautiful! How fine! To think that we both have skates! I tell you, the stork brought us good luck!” – when they heard something!

      It was a scream – a very faint scream! No one else upon the canal observed it[83], but Hans knew its meaning too well. Gretel saw him turn white in the moonlight as he busily tore off his skates.

      “The father!” he cried. “He has frightened our mother!” And Gretel ran after him toward the house as rapidly as she could.

      The Festival of Saint Nicholas

      We all know how, before the Christmas tree began to flourish in the home life of our country, a certain “right jolly old elf,” with “eight tiny reindeer,” used to drive his sleigh-load of toys up to our housetops, and then bounded down the chimney to fill the stockings so hopefully hung by the fireplace. His friends called him Santa Claus, and those who were most intimate ventured to say “Old Nick.” It was said that he originally came from Holland. Doubtless he did, but, if so, he certainly, like many other foreigners, changed his ways very much[84] after landing upon our shores. In Holland, Saint Nicholas[85] is a veritable saint and often appears in full costume, with his embroidered robes, glittering with gems and gold, his miter, his crosier, and his jeweled gloves. Here Santa Claus comes rollicking along, on the twenty-fifth of December, our holy Christmas morn. But in Holland, Saint Nicholas visits earth on the fifth, a time especially appropriated to him. Early on the morning of the sixth, he distributes his candies, toys, and treasures, then vanishes for a year.

      Christmas Day is devoted by the Hollanders to church rites and pleasant family visiting. It is on Saint Nicholas’s Eve that their young people become half wild with joy and expectation. To some of them it is a sorry time, for the saint is very candid, and if any of them have been bad during the past year, he is quite sure to tell them so. Sometimes he gives a birch rod under his arm and advises the parents to give them scoldings in place of confections, and floggings instead of toys.

      It was well that the boys hastened to their abodes on that bright winter evening, for in less than an hour afterward, the saint made his appearance in half the homes of Holland. He visited the king’s palace and in the selfsame moment appeared in Annie Bouman’s comfortable home. Probably one of our silver half-dollars would have purchased all that his saintship left at the peasant Bouman’s; but a half-dollar’s worth will sometimes do for the poor what hundreds of dollars may fail to do for the rich[86]; it makes them happy and grateful, fills them with new peace and love.

      Hilda van Gleck’s little brothers and sisters were in a high state of excitement that night. They had been admitted into the grand parlor; they were dressed in their best and had been given two cakes apiece at supper. Hilda was as joyous as any. Why not? Saint Nicholas would never cross a girl of fourteen from his list, just because she was tall and looked almost like a woman. On the contrary, he would probably exert himself to do honor to such an august-looking damsel. Who could tell?[87] So she sported and laughed and danced as gaily as the youngest and was the soul of all their merry games. Her father, mother, and grandmother looked on approvingly; so did her grandfather, before he spread his large red handkerchief over his face, leaving only the top of his skullcap visible. This kerchief was his ensign of sleep.

      Earlier in the evening all had joined in the fun. In the general hilarity there had seemed to be a difference only in bulk between grandfather and the baby. Indeed, a shade of solemn expectation, now and then flitting across the faces of the younger members, had made them seem rather more thoughtful than their elders.

      Now the spirit of fun reigned supreme. The very СКАЧАТЬ