or, The Silver Skates 107

XII
ON THE WAY TO HAARLEM

N approaching the door of the farmhouse, the boys sud-

denly found themselves in the midst of a lively domestic

scene. A burly Dutchman came rushing out, closely followed

by his dear vreww ; and she was beating him smartly with a

long-handled warming-pan. The expression on her face gave

our boys so little promise of a kind reception that they pru-
dently resolved to carry their toes elsewhere to be warmed.

The next cottage proved to be more inviting. Its low roof
of bright red tiles extended over the cow-stable, that, clean as |
could be, nestled close to the main building. A neat, peace-
ful-looking old woman sat at one window, knitting. At the
other could be discerned part of the profile of a fat figure, that,
pipe in mouth, sat behind the shining little panes and snowy
curtain. In answer to Peter’s subdued knock, a fair-haired,
rosy-cheeked lass, in holiday attire, opened the upper half of
the green door, and inquired their errand. The band over her
right temple showed that she was unmarried.

“ May we enter and warm ourselves, jufvrouw ?” asked the
captain, respectfully.

“Yes, and welcome,” was the reply, as the lower half of
the door swung open. Every boy, before entering, rubbed
long and faithfully upon the rough mat within; and each
made his best bow to the old lady and gentleman at the win-