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"Well," cried several of the boys almost in a breath, "and now what shall we do, Patem? You have us in a pretty fix." Patem waved his hand like a young Napoleon. "Ach! ye are all cowards," he cried shrilly. "What will we do? Why, then we will but do as if we were burgomasters and schepens as we will be some day. We will to the Heer Governor straight, and lay our demands before him."
So, hoy, lads, let's turn him out." And with that little Patem Onderdonk gave Teuny Vanderbreets' broad back a sounding slap with his battered horn book and crying, "Come on, lads," headed his mutinous companions on a race for the rickety little schoolhouse near the fort. It was hard lines for Dominie Curtius all that day at school.
Speak quick if at all, for when a man's dinner waiteth he hath scant time for stammering boys." Then Patem spoke up. "Heer Governor," he said, "the boys hereabout, remembering your goodness in sending away our most pestilential master, the Dominie Curtius, and in proclaiming a Thanksgiving for his departure and for the ending of our schooling "
I am bound to say, however, that there was nothing new or strange in this, for little Patem Onderdonk generally did mean mischief.
Is it not enough that I must needs send the schoolmaster a-packing, without being worried by graceless young varlets as you?" "And hath the Dominie Curtius gone indeed, Heer Governor?" Patem dared to ask. "Hath he, hath he, boy?" echoed the Governor, turning upon his audacious young questioner with uplifted cane. "Said I not so, and will you dare doubt my word, rascal?
Patem had well considered and formed in his mind what he deemed just the speech of presentation to please the Heer Governor, but when the time came to face that awful personage his valour and his eloquence alike began to ooze away. And, it must be confessed, the Heer Governor Stuyvesant did not understand boys, nor did he particularly favour them.
"Why," said Grace, running up and kissing her little brother affectionately, "I wished your wish would come true, of course." New York boys, especially, will enjoy this tale of the doings of a group of Dutch schoolboys in old New Amsterdam. Little Patem Onderdonk meant mischief. There was a snap in his eyes and a look on his face that were certain proof of this.
But when the first flush of their victory was over, the boys realized that they had done a very daring and risky thing. It was no small matter in those days of stern authority and strict home government for girls and boys to resist the commands of their elders; and to run away from school was one of the greatest of crimes. So they all looked at Patem in much anxiety.
Well, well; this was bold talk! The Heer Governor! Not a boy in all New Amsterdam but would sooner face a gray wolf in the Sapokanican woods than the Heer Governor Stuyvesant. "So then, Patem Onderdonk," they cried, "you may do it yourself, for, good faith, we will not."
"Because he's a skinflint, I tell you," asserted Patem, "though I do believe he says that he was brought here from Holland as one of the Company's men, and ought not therefore pay taxes to the Company.
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