What would
a gift of meat and wine be to him? When the father is once fed,
I can rush down to Amsterdam and earn the morrow's supply."
Then came other thoughts--thoughts that made his heart thump
heavily and his cheeks burn with a new shame. It is BEGGING, to
say the least. Not one of the Brinkers has ever been a beggar.
Shall I be the first? Shall my poor father just coming back into
life learn that his family has asked for charity--he, always so
wise and thrifty? "No," cried Hans aloud, "better a thousand
times to part with the watch."
I can at least borrow money on it, in Amsterdam! he thought,
turning around. That will be no disgrace. I can find work at
once and get it back again. Nay, perhaps I can even SPEAK TO
THE FATHER ABOUT IT!
This last thought made the lad dance for joy. Why not, indeed,
speak to the father? He was a rational being now. He may wake,
thought Hans, quite bright and rested--may tell us the watch is
of no consequence, to sell it of course! And Hans almost flew
over the ice.
A few moments more and the skates were again swinging from his
arm. He was running toward the cottage.
His mother met him at the door.
"Oh, Hans!" she cried, her face radiant with joy, "the young lady
has been here with her maid.
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