or, The Silver Skates gI

As his party skimmed lightly along, he told Van Mounen
of a burial-riot, which, in 1696, had occurred in that very city,
where the women and children turned out as well as the men,
and formed mock funeral-processions through the town, to
show the burgomasters that certain new regulations, with
regard to burying the dead, would not be acceded to; how, at
last, they grew so unmanageable, and threatened so much
damage to the city, that the burgomasters were glad to recall
the offensive law.

“There’s the corner,” said Jacob, pointing to some large
buildings, “where, about fifteen years ago, the great corn-
houses sank down in the mud. They were strong affairs, and
set up on good piles; but they had over seventy thousand
hundredweight of corn in them, and that was too much.”

It was a long story for Jacob to tell, and he stopped to rest.

‘“‘ How do you know there were seventy thousand hundred-
weight in them?” asked Carl, sharply. “¢ You were in your
swaddling-clothes then.”

“My father knows all about it,” was Jacob’s suggestive
reply. Rousing himself with an effort, he continued, “ Ben
likes pictures: show him some.”

“ All right,” said the captain.

“If we had time, Benjamin,” said Lambert van Mounen in
English, “ I should like to take you to the City Hall, or Stadbuis.
There are building-piles for you! It is built on nearly fourteen
thousand of them, driven seventy feet into the ground. But
what I wish you to see there is the big picture of Van Speyk
blowing up his ship — great picture.”

“Van who?” asked Ben.

“Van Speyk. Don’t you remember? He was in the
height of an engagement with the Belgians; and when he