Sometimes a dogcart, heaped with wooden ware, passed him; then a
donkey bearing a pair of panniers filled with crockery or glass;
then a sled driven over the bare cobblestones (the runners kept
greased with a dripping oil rag so that it might run easily); and
then, perhaps, a showy but clumsy family carriage, drawn by the
brownest of Flanders horses, swinging the whitest of snowy tails.
The city was in full festival array. Every shop was gorgeous in
honor of Saint Nicholas. Captain Peter was forced, more than
once, to order his men away from the tempting show windows, where
everything that is, has been, or can be, thought of in the way of
toys was displayed. Holland is famous for this branch of
manufacture. Every possible thing is copied in miniature for the
benefit of the little ones; the intricate mechanical toys that a
Dutch youngster tumbles about in stolid unconcern would create a
stir in our patent office. Ben laughed outright at some of the
mimic fishing boats. They were so heavy and stumpy, so like the
queer craft that he had seen about Rotterdam. The tiny
trekschuiten, however, only a foot or two long, and fitted out,
complete, made his heart ache.
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