52 Hans Brinker

the father worked extra hours, and could get high pay for his
labor. Every Saturday night we put something by, except the
time when you had the fever, Hans, and when Gretel came.
At last the pouch grew so full that I mended an old stocking,
and commenced again. Now that I look back, it seems that
the money was up to the heel in a few sunny weeks, There
was great pay in those days, if a man was quick at engineer
work. The stocking went on filling with copper and silver,
ay, and gold. You may well open your eyes, Gretel. I used
to laugh, and tell the father it was not for poverty I wore my
old gown. And the stocking went on filling, so full, that
sometimes, when I woke at night, 1’d get up, soft and quiet,
and go feel it in the moonlight. Then, on my knees, I would
thank our Lord that my little ones could in time get good
learning, and that the father might rest from labor in his old
age. Sometimes, at supper, the father and I would talk about
a new chimney, and a good winter-room for the cow; but my
man, forsooth, had finer plans even than that. ‘A big sail,’
says he, ‘catches the wind: we can do what we will soon,’
and then we would sing together as I washed my dishes. Ah,
‘a smooth sea makes an easy rudder.’ Nota thing vexed me
from morning till night. Every week the father would take
out the stocking, and drop in the money, and laugh, and kiss
me, as we tied it up together. — Up with you, Hans! there you
sit gaping, and the day a-wasting!” added Dame Brinker,
tartly, blushing to find that she had been speaking too freely
to her boy. ‘It’s high time you were on your way.”

Hans had seated himself, and was looking earnestly into her
face. He arose, and, in almost a whisper, asked, —

“ Have you ever ¢ried, mother? ”

She understood him.