370 -Hans Brinker

XLV
JOY IN THE COTTAGE

ERHAPS you were surprised to learn that Raff and his
vrouw were at the skating-race: you would have been
more so, had you been with them on the evening of that
merry 20th. of December. To see the Brinker cottage
standing sulkily alone on the frozen marsh, with its bulgy,
rheumatic-looking walls, and its slouched hat of a roof pulled
far over its eyes, one would never suspect that a lively scene
was passing within. Without, nothing was left of the day
but a low line of blaze at the horizon. A few venturesome
clouds had already taken fire; and others, with their edges
burning, were lost in the gathering smoke.

A stray gleam of sunshine, slipping down from the willow-
stump, crept stealthily under the cottage. It seemed to feel
that the inmates would give it welcome, if it could only get
near them. The room under which it hid was as clean as
clean could be. The very cracks in the rafters were polished.
Delicious odors filled the air. A huge peat-fire upon the
hearth sent flashes of harmless lightning at the sombre walls.
It played, in turn, upon the great leathern Bible, upon Gretel’s
closet-bed, the household things on their pegs, and the beauti-
ful silver skates and the flowers upon the table. Dame
Brinker’s honest face shone and twinkled in the changing
light. Gretel and Hans, with arms intertwined, were leaning