or, The Silver Skates 225

The giant was finally conquered, and thrown into the
Scheld by a hero called Brabo, who, in turn, gave a name to
the district known as Brabant. Since then the Dutch mer-
chants have travelled the river in peace; but I, for one, thank
old Antigonus for giving the city so romantic an origin.

When Mynheer van Gend had related in two languages
this story of Antwerp, he was tempted to tell other legends,
some in English, some in Dutch; and so the moments, borne
upon the swift shoulders of gnomes and giants, glided rapidly
away toward bedtime.

It was hard to break up so pleasant a party ; but the Van
Gend household moved with the regularity of clockwork.
There was no lingering at the threshold when the cordial
“¢ Good-night !”? was spoken. Even while our boys were
mounting the stairs, the invisible household fairies again
clustered around them, whispering that system and regularity
had been chief builders of the master’s prosperity.

Beautiful chambers with three beds in them were not to be
found in this mansion. Some of the rooms contained two;
but each visitor slept alone. Before morning the motto of
the party evidently was, “ Every boy his own chrysalis ;”” and
Peter, at least, was not sorry to have it so.

Tired as he was, Ben, after noting a curious bell-rope in
the corner, began to examine his bed-clothes. Each article
filled him with astonishment,—the exquisitely fine pillow-
spread trimmed with costly lace, and embroidered with a
gorgeous crest and initial; the defbed cover (a great silk bag,
large as the bed, stuffed with swan’s down); and the pink
satin quilts, embroidered with garlands of flowers. He could
scarcely sleep for thinking what a queer little bed it was; so
comfortable and pretty, too, with all its queerness. In the

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