the two languages.

"Van Mounen, they say the very carrier pigeons that brought news of
relief to the besieged city are somewhere here in Leyden. I really
should like to see them. Just think of it! At the very height of the
trouble, if the wind didn't turn and blow in the waters, and drown
hundreds of Spaniards and enable the Dutch boats to sail in right over
the land with men and provisions to the very gates of the city. The
pigeons, you know, did great service, in bearing letters to and fro. I
have read somewhere that they were reverently cared for from that day,
and when they died, they were stuffed and placed for safekeeping in the
town hall. We must be sure to have a look at them."

Van Mounen laughed. "On that principle, Ben, I suppose when you go to
Rome you'll expect to see the identical goose who saved the capitol. But
it will be easy enough to see the pigeons. They are in the same building
with Van der Werf's portrait. Which was the greater defense, Ben, the
siege of Leyden or the siege of Haarlem?"

"Well," replied Ben thoughtfully, "Van der Werf is one of my heroes. We
all have our historical pets, you know, but I really think the siege
of Haarlem brought out a braver, more heroic resistance even, than the
Leyden one; besides, they set the Leyden sufferers an example of courage
and fortitude, for their turn came first."

"I don't know much about the Haarlem siege," said Lambert, "except that
it was in 1573. Who beat?"

"The Spaniards," said Ben. "The Dutch had stood out for months. Not a
man would yield nor a woman, either, for that matter. They shouldered
arms and fought gallantly beside their husbands and fathers. Three
hundred of them did duty under Kanau Hesselaer, a great woman, and brave
as Joan of Arc. All this time the city was surrounded by the Spaniards
under Frederic of Toledo, son of that beauty, the Duke of Alva. Cut off
from all possible help from without, there seemed to be no hope for the
inhabitants, but they shouted defiance over the city walls. They even
threw bread into the enemy's camps to show that they were not afraid of
starvation. Up to the last they held out bravely, waiting for the help
that never could come--growing bolder and bolder until their provisions
were exhausted. Then it was terrible. In time, hundreds of famished
creatures fell dead in the streets, and the living had scarcely strength
to bury them. At last they made the desperate resolution that, rather
than perish