158 Hans Brinker

some gorgeous old dowager, or rich burgomaster’s lady, who,
very red in the nose and sharp in the eyes, looked like a scare-
thaw invented by old Father Winter for the protection of his
skating grounds. The chair would be heavy with foot-stoves
and cushions, to say nothing of the old lady. Mounted upon
shining runners, it slid along, pushed by the sleepiest of
servants, who, looking neither to the right nor the left, bent
himself to his task, while she cast direful glances upon the
screaming little rowdies who invariably acted as body-guard.
As for the men, they were pictures of placid enjoyment.
Some were attired in ordinary citizen’s dress; but many looked
odd enough with their short woollen coats, wide breeches and
big silver buckles. “These seemed to Ben like little boys, who
had, by a miracle, sprung suddenly into manhood, and were
forced to wear garments that their astonished mothers had
altered ina hurry. He noticed, too, that nearly all the men
had pipes, as they passed him, whizzing and smoking like so
many locomotives. There was every variety of pipes, from
those of common clay to the most expensive meerschaums
mounted in silver and gold. Some were carved into extraordi-
nary and fantastic shapes, representing birds, flowers, heads,
bugs and dozens of other things; some resembled the “ Dutch-

” that grows in our American woods; some were

man’s pipe,
red, and many were of a pure, snowy white; but the most
respectable were those which were ripening into a shaded
brown. The deeper and richer the brown, of course, the more
honored the pipe; for it was a proof that the owner, if
honestly shading it, was deliberately devoting his manhood to
the effort. What pipe would not be proud to be the object of
such a sacrifice !

’ For a while, Ben skated on in silence. There was so much