290 Hans Brinker

XXXVI
A NEW ALARM

HEN Dr. Boekman called the next day at the Brinker
cottage, he could not help noticing the cheerful,
comfortable aspect of the place. An atmosphere of happiness
breathed upon him as he opened the door. Dame Brinker
sat complacently knitting beside the bed; her husband was
enjoying a tranquil slumber ; and Gretel was noiselessly knead-
ing rye bread on the table in the corner.

The doctor did not remain long. He asked a few simple
questions, appeared satisfied with the answers, and, after feel-
ing his patient’s pulse, said, “ Ah, very weak yet, jufurouw ;
very weak, indeed. He must have nourishment. You may
begin to feed the patient, ahem! Not too much; but what
you do give him, let it be strong, and of the best:”

“Black bread we have, mynheer, and porridge,” replied
Dame Brinker, cheerily. “They have always agreed with him
well.”

“Tut, tut!” said the doctor, frowning: “ nothing of the
kind. He must have the juice of fresh meat, white bread
dried and toasted, good Malaga wine, and — ahem! The man
looks cold: give him more covering, something light and
warm. Where is the boy?”

“« Hans, mynheer, has gone into Broek to look for work.
He will be back soon. Will the meester please be seated ?”