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Updated: June 28, 2025
What the Boys Saw and Did in Amsterdam "Are we all here?" cried Peter, in high glee, as the party assembled upon the canal early the next morning, equipped for their skating journey. "Let me see. As Jacob has made me captain, I must call the roll. Carl Schummel, you here?" "Ya!" "Jacob Poot!" "Ya!" "Benjamin Dobbs!" "Ya-a!" "Lambert van Mounen!" "Ya!" "That's lucky!
What did you stare at it so long for?" "I couldn't help it." By this time the boys had reached the "beautiful room with three beds in it." A dumpy little maiden with long earrings met them at the doorway, dropped them a curtsy, and passed out. She carried a long-handled thing that resembled a frying pan with a cover. "I am glad to see that," said Van Mounen to Ben. "What?" "Why, the warming pan.
As this was said in English, Van Mounen of course translated it for the benefit of all concerned, noticing meanwhile that neither Raff nor his vrouw looked very miserable, though Raff was trembling and the dame's eyes were swimming with tears. You may believe that the doctor heard every word of the story, when later in the evening he came driving back with Hans.
Ben was getting uproarious; Lambert playfully clapped his hand over his friend's mouth. The result was one of those quick India-rubber scuffles fearful to behold but delightful to human nature in its polliwog state. "Vat wash te matter, Pen?" asked Jacob, hurrying forward. "Oh! nothing at all," panted Ben, "except that Van Mounen was afraid of starting an English riot in this orderly town.
"The fact is," continued Lambert, "you can conjure up quite a human picture of a tulip bed in bloom, especially when it is nodding and bobbing in the wind. Did you ever notice it?" "Not I. It strikes me, Van Mounen, that you Hollanders are prodigiously fond of the flower to this day." "Certainly. You can't have a garden without them; prettiest flower that grows, I think.
"Van Mounen, they say the very carrier pigeons that brought news of relief to the besieged city are somewhere here in Leyden. I really should like to see them. Just think of it!
Not I, for one, but the wind's stronger than any of us. I hope you'll condescend to admit that!" "Ha, ha!" laughed Van Mounen, who could barely keep his feet. "So it is." Just then the weather vanes telegraphed to each other by a peculiar twitch and, in an instant, the gust came. It nearly threw the strong-chested Carl; it almost strangled Jacob and quite upset Ludwig.
"We do agree better than you think," sulked Carl as he returned Peter's grasp. "All right," responded Peter briskly. "Now, Van Mounen, we await Benjamin's wishes. Where would he like to go?" "To the Egyptian Museum?" answered Lambert after holding a brief consultation with Ben. "That is on the Breedstraat. To the museum let it be. Come, boys!" The Beleaguered Cities
Van Mounen is flagging; but you are as strong as ever. Hans and Peter, Peter and Hans: which is foremost? We love them both. We scarcely care which is the fleeter. Hilda, Annie, and Gretel, seated upon the long crimson bench, can remain quiet no longer. They spring to their feet, so different! and yet one in eagerness.
The chrysalis rolled over, but made no other sign. "Up, boys!" cried Peter, never budging. "Ludwig! Lambert! Donder! Are you all dead?" Dead? Not they! Van Mounen and Ben were on their feet in an instant. "Hey! What now?" they shouted. "I've got a robber here," said Peter coolly. "Lie still, you scoundrel, or I'll slice your head off!
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