ived from ae'nt werf (on the wharf),
but Mynheer van Gend gave him a far more interesting derivation.

It appears that about three thousand years ago, a great giant, named
Antigonus, lived on the river Scheld, on the site of the present city of
Antwerp. This giant claimed half the merchandise of all navigators who
passed his castle. Of course, some were inclined to oppose this simple
regulation. In such cases, Antigonus, by way of teaching them to
practice better manners next time, cut off and threw into the river
the rights hands of the merchants. Thus handwerpen (or hand-throwing),
changed to Antwerp, came to be the name of the place. The escutcheon
or arms of the city has two hands upon it; what better proof than this
could one have of the truth of the story, especially when one wishes to
believe it!

When Mynheer van Gend had related in two languages this story of
Antwerp, he was tempted to tell other legends--some in English, some in
Dutch; and so the moments, borne upon the swift shoulders of gnomes and
giants, glided rapidly away toward bedtime.

It was hard to break up so pleasant a party, but the Van Gend household
moved with the regularity of clockwork. There was no lingering at the
threshold when the cordial "Good night!" was spoken. Even while our
boys were mounting the stairs, the invisible household fairies again
clustered around them, whispering that system and regularity had been
chief builders of the master's prosperity.

Beautiful chambers with three beds in them were not to be found in this
mansion. Some of the rooms contained two, but each visitor slept alone.
Before morning, the motto of the party evidently was, "Every boy his own
chrysalis," and Peter, at least, was not sorry to have it so.

Tired as he was, Ben, after noting a curious bell rope in the
corner, began to examine his bedclothes. Each article filled him with
astonishment--the exquisitely fine pillow spread trimmed with costly
lace and embroidered with a gorgeous crest and initial, the dekbed cover
(a great silk bag, large as the bed, stuffed with swan's down), and
the pink satin quilts, embroidered with garlands of flowers. He
could scarcely sleep for thinking what a queer little bed it was, so
comfortable and pretty, too, with all its queerness. In the morning
he examined the top coverlet with care, for he wished to send home
a description of it in his next letter. It was a beautiful Japanese
spread, marvelous in texture as well