Hans Brinker; Or, The Silver Skates

by Mary Mapes Dodge

  XLVII

  BROAD SUNSHINE

  One snowy day in January, Laurens Boekman went with his father to payhis respects to the Brinker family.

  Raff was resting after the labors of the day; Gretel, having filled andlighted his pipe, was brushing every speck of ash from the hearth; thedame was spinning; and Hans, perched upon a stool by the window, wasdiligently studying his lessons--A peaceful, happy household whose mainexcitement during the past week had been the looking forward to thispossible visit from Thomas Higgs.

  As soon as the grand presentation was over, Dame Brinker insisted upongiving her guests some hot tea; it was enough to freeze any one, shesaid, to be out in such crazy, blustering weather. While they weretalking with her husband she whispered to Gretel that the younggentleman's eyes and her boy's were certainly as much alike as fourbeans, to say nothing of a way they both had of looking as if they werestupid and yet knew as much as a body's grandfather.

  Gretel was disappointed. She had looked forward to a tragic scene, suchas Annie Bouman had often described to her, from story books; and herewas the gentleman who came so near being a murderer, who for ten yearshad been wandering over the face of the earth, who had believed himselfdeserted and scorned by his father--the very young gentleman who hadfled from his country in such magnificent trouble, sitting by the firejust as pleasant and natural as could be!

  To be sure his voice had trembled when he talked with her parents, andhe had met his father's look with a bright kind of smile that would havesuited a dragon-killer bringing the waters of perpetual youth to hisking--but after all he wasn't at all like the conquered hero in Annie'sbook. He did not say, lifting his hand toward Heaven, "I hereby swear tobe forever faithful to my home, my God and my country!" which would havebeen only right and proper under the circumstances.

  All things considered, Gretel was disappointed. Raff, however, wasperfectly satisfied. The message was delivered; Dr. Boekman had his sonsafe and sound; and the poor lad had done nothing sinful after all,except in thinking his father would have abandoned him for an accident.To be sure, the graceful stripling had become rather a heavy man--Raffhad unconsciously hoped to clasp that same boyish hand again--but allthings were changed to Raff, for that matter. So he pushed back everyfeeling but joy, as he saw father and son sitting side by side at hishearthstone. Meantime, Hans was wholly occupied in the thought of ThomasHiggs' happiness in being able to be the meester's assistant again; andDame Brinker was sighing softly to herself, wishing that the lad'smother were alive to see him--such a fine young gentleman as he was; andwondering how Dr. Boekman could bear to see the silver watch getting sodull. He had worn it ever since Raff handed it over, that was evident.What had he done with the gold one he used to wear?

  The light was shining full upon Dr. Boekman's face. How contented helooked; how much younger and brighter than formerly. The hard lines werequite melting away. He was laughing, as he said to the father:

  "Am I not a happy man, Raff Brinker? My son will sell out his factorythis month, and open a warehouse in Amsterdam. I shall have all myspectacle-cases for nothing."

  Hans started from his reverie. "A warehouse, mynheer! and will ThomasHiggs--I mean--is your son not to be your assistant again?"

  A shade passed over the meester's face, but he brightened with aneffort, as he replied:

  "Oh no, Laurens has had quite enough of that. He wishes to be amerchant."

  Hans appeared so surprised and disappointed that his friend askedgood-naturedly:

  "Why so silent, boy? Is it any disgrace to be a merchant?"

  "N--not a disgrace, mynheer," stammered Hans--"but----"

  "But what?"

  "Why, the other calling is so much better," answered Hans, "so muchnobler. I think, mynheer," he added, kindling with enthusiasm, "that tobe a surgeon,--to cure the sick and crippled, to save human life, to beable to do what you have done for my father--is the grandest thing onearth."

  The doctor was regarding him sternly. Hans felt rebuked. His cheeks wereflushed; hot tears were gathering under his lashes.

  "It is an ugly business, boy, this surgery," said the doctor, stillfrowning at Hans; "it requires great patience, self-denial andperseverance."

  "I am sure it does," cried Hans, kindling again. "It calls for wisdomtoo, and a reverence for God's work. Ah, mynheer, it may have its trialsand drawbacks--but you do not mean what you say--it is great and noble,not ugly! Pardon me, mynheer. It is not for me to speak so boldly."

  Dr. Boekman was evidently displeased. He turned his back on the boy, andconferred aside with Laurens. Meanwhile the dame scowled a terriblewarning at Hans. These great people, she knew well enough, never like tohear poor folk speak up so pert.

  The meester turned around.

  "How old are you, Hans Brinker?"

  "Fifteen, mynheer," was the startled reply.

  "Would you like to become a physician?"

  "Yes, mynheer," answered Hans, quivering with excitement.

  "Would you be willing, with your parents' consent, to devote yourself tostudy, to go to the University--and, in time, be a student in myoffice?"

  "YES, mynheer."

  "You would not grow restless, think you, and change your mind just as Ihad set my heart upon preparing you to be my successor?"

  Hans' eyes flashed.

  "No, mynheer, I would not change."

  "You may believe him, there," cried the dame, who could remain quiet nolonger. "Hans is like a rock, when once he decides; and as for study,mynheer, the child has almost grown fast to his books of late. He canjumble off Latin already, like any priest!"

  The doctor smiled. "Well, Hans, I see nothing to prevent us fromcarrying out this plan, if your father agrees."

  "Ahem," said Raff, too proud of his boy to be very meek, "the fact is,mynheer, I prefer an active, out-of-door life, myself. But if the lad'sinclined to study for a meester, and he'd have the benefit of your goodword to push him on in the world, it's all one to me. The money's allthat's a wanting, but it mightn't be long, with two strong pair of armsto earn it, before we----"

  "Tut! tut!" interrupted the doctor, "if I take your right hand man away,I must pay the cost, and glad enough will I be to do it. It will be likehaving _two_ sons--eh, Laurens? One a merchant and the other asurgeon--I shall be the happiest man in Holland! Come to me in themorning, Hans, and we will arrange matters at once."

  Hans bowed assent. He dared not trust himself to speak.

  "And, Brinker," continued the doctor, "my son Laurens will need atrusty, ready man like you, when he opens his warehouse in Amsterdam;some one to overlook matters, and see that the lazy clowns round aboutthe place do their duty. Some one to----Why don't you tell him yourself,you rascal!"

  This last was addressed to the son, and did not sound half as fierce asit looks in print. The rascal and Raff soon understood each otherperfectly.

  "I'm loath to leave the dykes," said the latter, after they had talkedtogether a while, "but you have made me such a good offer, mynheer, I'dbe robbing my family if I let it go past me."

  * * * * *

  Take a long look at Hans as he sits there staring gratefully at themeester, for you shall not see him again for many years.

  And Gretel--Ah, what a vista of puzzling work suddenly opens before her!Yes, for dear Hans' sake she will study now. If he really is to be ameester, his sister must not shame his greatness.

  How faithfully those glancing eyes shall yet seek for the jewels thatlie hidden in rocky school-books! And how they shall yet brighten anddroop at the coming of one whom she knows of now, only as the boy whowore a red cap on that wonderful day when she found the Silver Skates inher apron!

  But the doctor and Laurens are going. Dame Brinker is making her bestcurtsey. Raff stands beside her, looking every inch a man as he graspsthe meester's hand. Through the open cottage door we can look out uponthe level Dutch landscape all alive with the falling snow.

  CONCLUSION

  Our story is
nearly told. Time passes in Holland just as surely andsteadily as here; in that respect no country is odd.

  To the Brinker family it has brought great changes. Hans has spent theyears faithfully and profitably, conquering obstacles as they arose, andpursuing one object with all the energy of his nature. If often the wayhas been rugged, his resolution has never failed. Sometimes he echoes,with his good old friend, the words said long ago in that little cottagenear Broek: "Surgery is an ugly business;" but always in his heart ofhearts lingers the echo of those truer words, "It is great and noble! itawakes a reverence for God's work!"

  Were you in Amsterdam to-day, you might see the famous Dr. Brinkerriding in his grand coach to visit his patients; or, it might be, youwould see him skating with his own boys and girls upon the frozen canal.For Annie Bouman, the beautiful, frank-hearted peasant girl, you wouldinquire in vain; but Annie Brinker, the vrouw of the great physician, isvery like her--only, as Hans says, she is even lovelier, wiser, morelike a fairy godmother than ever.

  Peter van Holp, also, is a married man. I could have told you before,that he and Hilda would join hands and glide through life together, justas years ago, they skimmed side by side over the frozen, sunlit river.

  At one time, I came near hinting that Katrinka and Carl would joinhands. It is fortunate now that the report was not started, for Katrinkachanged her mind, and is single to this day. The lady is not quite somerry as formerly, and, I grieve to say, some of the tinkling bells areout of tune. But she is the life of her social circle, still. I wish shewould be in earnest, just for a little while, but no; it is not hernature. Her cares and sorrows do nothing more than disturb the tinkling;they never waken any deeper music.

  Rychie's soul has been stirred to its depths during these long years.Her history would tell how seed carelessly sown is sometimes reaped inanguish, and how a golden harvest may follow a painful planting. If Imistake not, you may be able to read the written record before long;that is, if you are familiar with the Dutch language. In the witty, butearnest author whose words are welcomed at this day, in thousands ofHolland homes, few could recognize the haughty, flippant Rychie whoscoffed at little Gretel.

  Lambert van Mounen, and Ludwig van Holp, are good Christian men, and,what is more easily to be seen at a glance, thriving citizens. Both aredwellers in Amsterdam, but one clings to the old city of that name, andthe other is a pilgrim to the new. Van Mounen's present home is not farfrom the Central Park, and he says if the New Yorkers do their duty, thePark will, in time, equal his beautiful Bosch, near the Hague. He oftenthinks of the Katrinka of his boyhood, but he is glad now that Katrinka,the woman, sent him away; though it seemed at the time his darkest hour.Ben's sister Jennie has made him very happy, happier than he could havebeen with any one else in the wide world.

  Carl Schummel has had a hard life. His father met with reverses inbusiness; and as Carl had not many warm friends, and above all, was notsustained by noble principles, he has been tossed about by Fortune'sbattle-dore until his gayest feathers are nearly all knocked off. He isa bookkeeper, in the thriving Amsterdam house of Boekman andSchimmelpenninck. Voostenwalbert, the junior partner, treats him kindly;and he, in turn, is very respectful to the "monkey with a long name fora tail."

  Of all our group of Holland friends, Jacob Poot is the only one who haspassed away. Good-natured, true-hearted and unselfish to the last, he ismourned now, as heartily as he was loved and laughed at while on earth.He grew to be very thin before he died; thinner than Benjamin Dobbs, whois now portliest among the portly.

  Raff Brinker and his vrouw have been living comfortably in Amsterdam formany years--a faithful, happy pair; as simple and straightforward intheir good fortune as they were patient and trustful in darker days.They have a zommerhuis near the old cottage and thither they oftenrepair with their children and grandchildren on the pleasant summerafternoons when the pond-lilies rear their queenly heads above thewater.

  The story of Hans Brinker would be but half told, if we did not leavehim with Gretel standing near. Dear, quick, patient little Gretel! Whatis she now? Ask old Dr. Boekman, he will declare she is the finestsinger, the loveliest woman in Amsterdam; ask Hans and Annie, they willassure you she is the dearest sister ever known; ask her husband, hewill tell you she is the brightest, sweetest little wife in Holland; askDame Brinker and Raff, their eyes will glisten with joyous tears; askthe poor, the air will be filled with blessings.

  But, lest you forget a tiny form trembling and sobbing on the moundbefore the Brinker cottage, ask the Van Glecks; they will never wearytelling of the darling little girl who won The Silver Skates.

  THE END