230 Hans Brinker

On their return, the boys pronounced the great porcelain
stove in the family sitting-room a decidedly useful piece of
furniture; for they could gather round it, and get warm, with-
out burning their noses, or bringing on chilblains. It was so
very large, that, though hot nowhere, it seemed to send out
warmth by the houseful. Its pure white sides and polished
brass rings made it a pretty object to look upon, notwithstand-
ing the fact that our ungrateful Ben, while growing thoroughly
warm and comfortable beside it, concocted a satirical sentence
for his next letter, to the effect that a stove in Holland must,
of course, resemble a great tower of snow, or it wouldn’t be
in keeping with the oddity of the country.

To describe all the boys saw and did on that day and the
next would render this little book a formidable volume indeed.
They visited the brass-cannon foundry, saw the liquid fire
poured into moulds, and watched the smiths, who, half naked,
stood in the shadow, like demons playing with ame. They
admired the grand public buildings and massive private houses,
the elegant streets and noble Bosch, — pride of all beauty-
loving Hollanders. The palace, with its brilliant mosaic
floors, its frescoed ceilings and gorgeous ornament, filled
Ben with delight. He was surprised that some of the
churches were so very plain, — elaborate sometimes in exter-
nal architecture, but bare and bleak within, with their blank,
whitewashed walls.

If there were no printed record, the churches of Holland
would almost tell her story. I will not enter into the subject
here, except to say that Ben, who had read of her struggles
and wrongs, and of the terrible retribution she from time to
time dealt forth, could scarcely tread a Holland town without
mentally leaping, horror-stricken, over the bloody stepping-