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Updated: May 2, 2025
In the witty but earnest author whose words are welcomed to this day in thousands of Holland homes, few could recognize the haughty, flippant Rychie who scoffed at little Gretel. Lambert van Mounen and Ludwig van Holp are good Christian men and, what is more easily to be seen at a glance, thriving citizens.
Her little hand, so thin and brown, lay in the coarse palm of her mother's, creased with many a hard day's work. Rychie would have shuddered to touch either, yet they pressed warmly upon each other.
Carl is more indignant than ever about it, but as three other peasant boys have entered, Hans is not alone. Twenty boys and twenty girls. The latter, by this time, are standing in front, braced for the start, for they are to have the first "run." Hilda, Rychie, and Katrinka are among them two or three bend hastily to give a last pull at their skate straps.
On the other hand, he knew that she, with her strong but lithe little frame, needed but a week's practice on good runners to make her a better skater than Rychie Korbes or even Katrinka Flack. As soon as this last thought flashed upon him, his resolve was made. If Gretel would not have the jacket, she should have the skates. "No, Gretel," he answered at last, "I can wait.
It is hard to say, as they come speeding back from the flagstaff, which will reach the columns first. There are new faces among the foremost, eager, glowing faces, unnoticed before. Katrinka is there, and Hilda; but Gretel and Rychie are in the rear. Gretel is wavering, but, when Rychie passes her, she starts forward afresh. Now they are nearly beside Katrinka.
Peter felt rested in an instant. Rychie was there! Ludwig and Jacob nearly knocked each other over in their eagerness to shake hands with her. Dutch girls are modest and generally quiet, but they have very glad eyes. For a few moments it was hard to decide whether Hilda, Rychie, or Katrinka felt the most happy.
Carl is more indignant than ever about it; but, as three other peasant-boys have entered, Hans is not alone. Twenty boys and twenty girls. The latter, by this time, are standing in front, braced for the start; for they are to have the first "run." Hilda, Rychie, and Katrinka are among them. Two or three bend hastily to give a last pull at their skate-straps.
"Oh! oh!" and the chorus of conflicting opinions broke forth again. "The girls' pair is to have bells," interposed Hilda quietly, "but there is to be another pair for the boys with an arrow engraved upon the sides." "THERE! I told you so!" cried nearly all the youngsters in one breath. Katrinka looked at them with bewildered eyes. "Who is to try?" she asked. "All of us," answered Rychie.
"Don't all talk at once, please, I can't understand." Everyone panted and looked at Rychie Korbes, who was their acknowledged spokeswoman. "Why," said Rychie, "we are to have a grand skating match on the twentieth, on Mevrouw van Gleck's birthday. It's all Hilda's work. They are going to give a splendid prize to the best skater."
Rychie Korbes was beautiful to look upon, far more sparkling and pretty than Hilda but not half so bright and sunny within. Clouds of pride, of discontent, and envy had already gathered in her heart and were growing bigger and darker every day. Of course, these often relieved themselves very much after the manner of other clouds. But who saw the storms and the weeping?
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