or, The Silver Skates 335

“ Ay. That’s plain to see, Raff; but I’ve had the same
feeling after a fever. You’re tired now; I must get ye straight
on the bed again. Where ¢s the child, I wonder? ”

Dame Brinker opened the door, and called, “Gretel,
Gretel?”

“¢ Stand aside, vroww,” said Raff, feebly, as he leaned forward,
and endeavored to look out upon the bare landscape. “I’ve
half a mind to stand beyond the door just once.”

“¢ Nay, nay,” she laughed. “I’Il tell the meester how ye tease
and fidget and bother to be let out in the air; and, if he says
it, [’ll bundle ye warm to-morrow, and give ye a turn on your
feet. But I’m freezing you with this door open. I declare, if
there isn’t Gretel, with her apron full, skating on the canal like
wild. Why, man!” she continued almost in a scream, as
she slammed the door, “ thourt walking to the bed without
my touching thee! ‘Thou ’lt fall!”

The dame’s “thee” proved her mingled fear and delight,
even more than the rush which she made toward her husband.
Soon he was comfortably settled under the new cover, declaring,
as his vreuw tucked him in snug and warm, that it was the
last daylight that should see him abed.

« Ay! Ican hope it myself,” laughed Dame Brinker, “ now
you have been frisking about at that rate.” As Raff closed
his eyes, the dame hastened to revive her fire, or, rather, to dull
it; for Dutch peat is like a Dutchman, slow to kindle, but very
good at a blaze when once started. Then, putting her neg-
lected spinning-wheel away, she drew forth her knitting from
some invisible pocket, and seated herself by the bedside.

“© If you could remember that man’s name, Raff,” she began
cautiously, “I might take the watch to him while you’re sleep-
ing: Gretel can’t but be in soon.”