fal and eat it, and we
shall have no more bad fevers here for want of a good scavenger. By
and by he will bring more storks, and they will multiply; and every
house, however humble, shall have its own stork family to ornament the
chimney-top and remind us of our dear native land. I have done all
this good with the hope of being useful, and now I hope nobody will
call me wicked names any more."

Nanking cut the fastenings on the bird and set it on the new-made
nest. In a minute the stork stood up on its short legs, poked its
beautiful head and neck into the air, and with its wings struck
Nanking so heavy a blow that it knocked him off the roof of the house,
but happily the fall did not hurt him. As he arose the huge bird was
spreading its wings for flight. Before Nanking could climb the ladder
again, it was sailing through the air, magnificent as a ship, toward
its winter pastures on the bay of Chisopecke.

"_He! Zoo!_" exclaimed the soldiers.

"_Foei! weg!_" cried the fishermen.

Only three persons said "_Ach! helas!_"--the Widow Cloos, pretty
Elsje, and Nanking.

"Thy stork is a savage bird!" cried Peter Alrichs. "The English on the
Chisopecke name it a _swan_!"

Nanking burst into tears. His uncle struck the ground with his
schout's staff, swore dreadfully, and shouted to the Widow Cloos:

"Sister, thy boy is nothing but a big idiot. Thou hadst better drown
him, as I told thee!"

Nothing could equal the mortification of Nanking. He thought he would
die of grief. He was now known to be more of an idiot than ever, and
the fickle Miss Elsje would not let him hold her doll for a whole
week.

"My poor son," entreated the widow, "do not pine and lose courage! The
venison will feed us half the winter. You can help me smoke it and dry
it. Do not give up your sweet simple faith, my boy! As long as you
keep that we are rich!"

The next day Schout Van Swearingen, the great dignitary, came in and
said to Nanking: "As you are a big idiot and good for nothing else, I
will give you an office. Even there you will be a failure, for you are
too simple to steal any thing."

Nanking's mother was happy to hear this, and to see her son in a
linsey-woolsey coat with large brass buttons, and six pairs of
breeches--the gift of the city of Amsterdam--stride up the streets of
New Amstel, with copper buckles in his shoes and his hair tied in an
eel-skin queue. The schout, his uncle, who was sheriff and chief of
police in one, mar