or, The Silver Skates 105

my arrival. Jacob says I shall have no chance of entering it
again until the time of his sister Kenau’s wedding, — the week
after Christmas. Father has consented that I shall remain to
witness the great event. Every Saturday, Aunt Poot and her
fat Kate go into that parlor, and sweep and polish and scrub ;
then it is darkened, and closed until Saturday comes again:
not a soul enters it in the mean time. But the schoonmaken, as
she calls it, must be done, just the same.”

“That is nothing. Every parlor in Broek meets with the
same treatment,” said Lambert. “What do you think of
those moving figures in her neighbor’s garden?”

“Oh! they ’re well enough. The swans must seem really
alive, gliding about the pond in summer; but that nodding
mandarin in the corner, under the chestnut-trees, is ridiculous,
only fit for children to laugh at. And then the stiff garden-
patches, and the trees, all trimmed and painted! Excuse me,
Van Mounen; but I shall never learn to admire Dutch
taste.”

“Tt will take time,” answered Lambert, condescendingly ;
“but you are sure to agree with it at last. I saw much to
admire in England, and I hope I shall be sent back with you
to study at Oxford; but, take everything together, I like
Holland better.”

“Of course you do!” said Ben, in a tone of hearty ap-
proval: “you wouldn’t be a good Hollander if you didn’t.
Nothing like loving one’s country. It is strange, though, to
have such a warm feeling for such a cold place. If we were
not exercising all the time, we should freeze outright.”

Lambert laughed.

“That’s your English blood, Benjamin: J’m not cold.
And look at the skaters here on the canal! they’re red as