or, The Silver Skates 201

hand over his friend’s mouth. The result was one of those
quick, india-rubber scuffles, fearful to behold but delightful to
human nature in its polliwog state.

“© Vat wash te matter, Pen?” asked Jacob, hurrying for-
ward.

«Oh! nothing at all,” panted Ben, “except that Van
Mounen was afraid of starting an English riot in this orderly
town. He stopped my cheering for old Van der —”

“Ya, ya! It ish no goot to sheer, to make te noise for dat.
You vill shee old Van der Does’ likeness mit de Stadhuis.”

“See old Van der Does? I thought it was Van der Werf’s
picture they had there.”

“Ya!” responded Jacob. “Van der Werf — vell, vot of
it? Both ish just ash goot.”

“ Yes, Van der Does was a noble old Dutchman; but he
was not Van der Werf. I know he defended the city like a
brick, and —”

“ Now vot for you shay dat, Penchamin? He no defend
te citty mit breek: he fight like good soltyer mit his guns.
You like make te fun mit effrysinks Tutch.”

“No, no, no! I said he defended the city like a brick.
That is very high praise, I would have you understand. We
English call even the Duke of Wellington a brick.”

Jacob looked puzzled ; but his indignation was already on
the ebb.

“ Vell, it ish no matter. I no tink before, soltyer mean
breek ; but it ish no matter.”

Ben laughed good-naturedly ; and, seeing that his cousin
was tired of talking in English, he turned to his friend of the
two languages, —

“Van Mounen, they say the very carrier-pigeons that