HANS BRINKER
OR Ei seo IE VEE Re eo KAGE BS

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HANS AND GRETEL

N a bright December morning long ago, two poorly clad
children were kneeling upon the bank of a frozen
canal in Holland.

The sun had not yet appeared; but the gray sky was
parted near the horizon, and its edges shone crimson with the
coming day. Most of the good Hollanders were enjoying a
placid morning nap: even Mynheer von Stoppelnoze, that
worthy old Dutchman, was still slumbering “in beautiful
repose.”

Now and then some peasant-woman, poising a well-filled

basket upon her head, came skimming over the glassy surface
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