s and receive such
compliments for his mother. The English poured out a big flagon of
French brandy and gravely drank his health, touching their foreheads
with their thumbs. The brandy elated and exalted Nanking very much.

"Nanking," said Colonel Utye, "we desire to spare thee a long journey
and much danger. Leave here thy rum and presents, and return to thy
patrons, Alrichs and Beeckman, bearing our English gratitude, and thou
shalt wear a beautiful hat, such as the King of England allows only
his jester to put upon his head."

Nanking felt very much obliged to these kind gentlemen. They made the
hat of the red cloth he had brought. It was like a tall steeple on a
house, and was at least three feet long. As proud as possible he
re-entered New Amstel on the evening of the day after he left it. It
was now within a few days of Christmas, and the Dutch burghers and
boors, and Swedes, English and Finns, were anticipating that holiday
by assembling at the two breweries which the town afforded, and
quaffing nightly of beer. Beeckman and Alrichs were interested in the
largest brewery, and their beer was sent by Appoquinimy in great
hogsheads to the English of Maryland in exchange for butts of tobacco.

As Nanking walked into the big room where fifty men were drinking, his
prodigious red hat rose almost to the ceiling, and was greeted by
roars of laughter.

"_Goeden avond! Hoe yaart gij!_ How do you do, my bully?"

Nanking bowed politely, and singling out Beeckman and Alrichs, stood
before them with child-like joy.

"Gentlemen," he said, "I gave all your presents to the noble Colonel
Utye, who sends his deepest gratitude, and presented me with this
exalted cap in acknowledgment of my capacity."

"Thou idiot!" exclaimed Beeckman; "'tis a dunce's cap!"

"Dunder and blitzen!" swore Peter Alrichs, "hast thou lost all our
provision and made fools of us, too?"

They struck the dunce's cap off Nanking's head with their staves, and
threw their beer in his face.

"Two hundred guilders are we out of pocket," cried both these great
men. "Was ever such a brainless dolt in our possessions?"

The room rang with the cry, "Incurable idiot!" and Gerrit Van
Swearingen cried louder than any, "Go drown thyself, and spare thy
mother shame!"

"Then I shall not marry Elsje?" exclaimed Nanking, bursting into
tears.

"No!" stormed Peter Alrichs; "thou shalt marry a calf. Away!"

When Nanking arrived home he found his mother sitting v