236 Hans Brinker

“« Exactly so,” said Ben, profoundly, at the same time strok-
ing his upper lip and chin, which latterly, he believed, had
been showing delightful and unmistakable signs of coming
dignities.

While tramping on foot through the city, Ben often longed
for a good English sidewalk. Here, as in the other towns,
there was no curb, no raised pavement for foot-travellers; but
the streets were clean and even, and all vehicles were kept
scrupulously within a certain tract. Strange to say, there were
nearly as many sleds as wagons to be seen, though there was
not a particle of snow. The sleds went scraping over the
bricks or cobble-stones; some provided with an apparatus in
front for sprinkling water, to diminish the friction, and some
rendered less musical by means of a dripping oil rag, which
the driver occasionally applied to the runners.

Ben was surprised at the noiseless way in which Dutch
laborers do their work. Even around the warehouses and
docks, there was no bustle, no shouting from one to another.
A certain twitch of the pipe, or turn of the head, or at most a
raising of the hand, seemed to be all the signal necessary.
Entire loads of cheeses or herrings are pitched from cart or
canal-boat into the warehouses without a word: but the passer-by
must take his chance of being pelted; for a Dutchman seldom
looks before or behind him while engaged at work.

Poor Jacob Poot, who seemed destined to bear all the mis-
haps of the journey, was knocked nearly breathless by a great
cheese which a fat Dutchman was throwing to a fellow-laborer ;
but he recovered himself, and passed on without evincing the
least indignation.

Ben professed great sympathy on the occasion; but Jacob
insisted that it was “ notting.”