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Do you know what I'm going to do?" "No, Horieneke." "Listen, Doorke, I'll tell you all about it, but promise on your soul not to tell anybody: Bertje, Fonske and all the rest mustn't know." Doorke nodded. "Father wanted me to go into service down there, with all those wicked people.
A little stream of dark blood trickled to the ground and clotted; and some of it hung like an icicle from the beard, which dripped incessantly with red drops. Fonske carefully put his finger to the rabbit's nose and licked off a drop of blood. "It's going home," said Sarelke. "Is it dead, father?" sighed Wartje. "Stone-dead, my boy."
They looked at the funny twists on her head and went on talking: Wartje longed most of all to put on his new breeches; Fonske was glad that Uncle Petrus was coming to-morrow and Aunt Stanske and Cousin Isidoor; Bertje because of the dog-cart and the dogs and the chance of a ride; Wartje because of all that aunt would bring with her in her great wicker basket; and Dolfke longed for father to come home from work, so that he might help to clean the rabbits.
Cousin stood staring bashfully amid all those peasant-lads and all that jollity, while Bertje, Fonske and the others too did not come near, but stood looking at the little gentleman with his fine clothes and his thin, peaky face; they trotted and turned, whispered to one another, went outside and came back again, laughed and said nothing. "But the first-communicant!
The boy growled; and Fonske, screaming with laughter, skipped out of the brook. Now came a romping and stamping in the water, a dashing and splashing with their hands till it turned to a rain of gleaming drops that fell on their heads and wetted their clothes through and through. And a bawling! And a plashing with their bare legs till the spray spouted high over the bank.
Bertje stood erect and issued his commands: all the boys must get out; he would remain sitting on the front seat, with Horieneke and Doorke side by side behind him, between two leafy branches, like a bride and bridegroom! Fonske cut two branches from an alder-tree and fastened them to either side of the cart.
Uncle Petrus enjoyed teasing his sister and made her cry out each time he declared that, for all her waiting at table and running about, she had eaten more than he and Brother Ivo put together and that it was no wonder she had grown such a body and bred such fine youngsters. The mighty din woke the baby and started it crying loudly in its cradle. Fonske took it out and put it in mother's lap.
Fonske had not been able to catch one yet and his fat legs were turning blue with the cold. In front of him stood Bertje, stooping and peering into the water, with his hands ready to grasp; and Fonske saw such a lovely little runnel from his neck to halfway down his back, all bare skin. He carefully scooped his hands full of water and let it trickle gently inside Bertje's shirt.
"Hi, mates, I see something!" Fonske called from the walnut-tree. The boys stretched their necks and so did father: it was jogging along in the distance, coming nearer and nearer. "Uncle Petrus and Aunt Stanse in the dog-cart!" They slithered out of the tree like cats and ran down the road as fast as they could.
"And is it also true," asked Bertje, with mischievous innocence, "that you know how to harness them?" Doorke looked surprised and again nodded yes. "Let's see if you dare!" "Hoo, hoo, Baron!" said Doorke. And he took the dog by the collar, put the girths on him and fastened the traces while Fonske held up the cart. "And that other one too?"
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