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Updated: July 3, 2025
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.
Mother was up to her elbows in the golden dough of the cakebread, stirring and beating and patting the jumble of eggs and flour and milk. Horieneke took the crying baby out of the cradle, shaking and tossing it in the air, and went into the garden just outside the door. The golden afternoon sun lay all around and everything was radiant with translucid green.
She did not know herself in all her splendour: the Horieneke of yesterday, in her blue bird's-eye bib and black frock was a poor thing compared with the present Horieneke, something far removed from this white apparition, something quite forgotten.
And they trotted round the kitchen holding their treasures high above their heads and screaming with delight. Behind the elder-hedge they heard father's voice humming: When the sorrel shows, 'Tis then the month of May, O!... They ran to him, took the tools out of his hands and: "Father, the rabbits! The rabbits now, father?" "Will it be fine weather to-morrow?" asked Horieneke.
Horieneke held the tips of her veil closed against the wind and stepped out like a little maid in a procession. The two women came behind and had no eyes for anything but Horieneke: the fall of those white folds, the whirling of the veil and the dancing of the lilies of the valley in the auburn locks. They said nothing.
Where's Horieneke?" asked Stanse, suddenly. From the little green arbour, in between the trees, a golden curly-head came peeping, followed by a little white body and little Trientje too, holding a great bunch of yellow daffodils in her hand. Stanse stuck out her arms in the air: "Oh, you little butterfly! Come along here, you're as lovely as an angel!"
"The children'll have good weather," said Mam'selle Julie; and, a little later, to Horieneke, "What are you going to ask of Our Lord now, dear?" "Oh, so much, so much, Mam'selle Julie!
Horieneke stood up, took her great sheet of paper and, in her clear voice, read out her piece so that all the congregation could hear, though she stopped to find her words at times and faltered here and there because her heart was beating so violently and she had such a catch in her throat: "Then Thou wilt come to us, Almighty God!
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