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Updated: July 4, 2025
Annie had devoted her resting-spell to skating with all her might toward Broek and back again, in the hope of meeting her mother on the canal, or, it might be, Gretel Brinker. Not one of them had she seen, and she must hurry back without even catching a glimpse of her mother's cottage, for the poor helpless grandmother, she knew, was by this time moaning for someone to turn her upon her cot.
Certain fathers, when they went home that night, spoke more kindly than usual to their youngsters, from memory of a frank, young face saddened at their words, and before morning one man actually resolved that he would instruct his head man Blankert to set the boy from Broek at something if he should come in again. But Hans knew nothing of all this.
"There," continued James, "we take a carriage." "And how much will the carriage be?" asked Mr. George. "To go to Broek and back, and then to Saandam, will be ten guilders." Mr. George made memoranda of these sums on his paper, as James named them. "And the tolls," continued James, "will be one guilder and twenty-five cents more." "And the driver?" asked Mr. George.
Toward sundown he started on his return to Broek, uncertain whether the strange, choking sensation in his throat arose from discouragement or resolution. There was certainly one more chance. Mynheer van Holp might have returned by this time. Master Peter, it was reported, had gone to Haarlem the night before to attend to something connected with the great skating race.
Each house in Broek looked like a model in jewelry, and the whole effect was like a presepio cut in pasteboard; but the Monnikendam houses are big enough for people to lie out straight in, when they go to bed, which seems quite commonplace.
Ben was half inclined to think that these personages were automata like the moving figures in the garden at Broek; for they both nodded their heads slowly, in precisely the same way, and both went on with their employment as steadily and stiffly as though they worked by machinery. The old man puffed, puffed, and his vrouw clicked her knitting needles, as if regulated by internal cog wheels.
"Good-bye, boys!" he cried as he left them. "We've had the greatest frolic ever known in Holland." "So we have. Good-bye, Van Mounen!" answered the boys. "Good-bye!" Peter hailed him. "I say, Van Mounen, the classes begin tomorrow!" "I know it. Our holiday is over. Good-bye, again." "Good-bye!" Broek came in sight. Such meetings! Katrinka was upon the canal! Carl was delighted. Hilda was there!
He had noticed cart wheels placed upon the roofs of Dutch cottages to entice storks to settle upon them; he had seen their huge nests, too, on many a thatched gable roof from Broek to The Hague. But it was winter now. The nests were empty.
"But mynheer," gently persisted the student, who knew that the doctor would not rise to the surface for hours unless pulled at once from his favorite depths. "Mynheer, you have other engagements today, three legs in Amsterdam, you remember, and an eye in Broek, and that tumor up the canal." "The tumor can wait," said the doctor reflectively. "That is another beautiful case a beautiful case!
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