ave meat
and sweet wine and a dekbed. Oh, what shall I do, what shall I do?" she
sobbed, wringing her hands. "There is not a stiver in the house."

Gretel pouted. It was the only way she could express sympathy just then.
Her tears fell one by one into the dough.

"Did the meester say he MUST have these things, Mother?" asked Hans.

"Yes, he did."

"Well, Mother, don't cry, HE SHALL HAVE THEM. I shall bring meat and
wine before night. Take the cover from my bed. I can sleep in the
straw."

"Yes, Hans, but it is heavy, scant as it is. The meester said he must
have something light and warm. He will perish. Our peat is giving out,
Hans. The father has wasted it sorely, throwing it on when I was not
looking, dear man."

"Never mind, Mother," whispered Hans cheerfully. "We can cut down the
willow tree and burn it, if need be, but I'll bring home something
tonight. There MUST be work in Amsterdam, though there's none in Broek.
Never fear, Mother, the worst trouble of all is past. We can brave
anything now that the father is himself again."

"Aye!" sobbed Dame Brinker, hastily drying her eyes. "That is true
indeed."

"Of course it is. Look at him, Mother, how softly he sleeps. Do you
think God would let him starve, just after giving him back to us? Why,
Mother, I'm as SURE of getting all the father needs as if my pocket were
bursting with gold. There, now, don't fret." And, hurriedly kissing her,
Hans caught up his skates and slipped from the cottage.

Poor Hans! Disappointed in his morning's errand, half sickened with this
new trouble, he wore a brave look and tried to whistle as he tramped
resolutely off with the firm intention of mending matters.

Want had never before pressed so sorely upon the Brinker family. Their
stock of peat was nearly exhausted, and all the flour in the cottage was
in Gretel's dough. They had scarcely cared to eat during the past few
days, scarcely realized their condition. Dame Brinker had felt so sure
that she and the children could earn money before the worst came that
she had given herself up to the joy of her husband's recovery. She had
not even told Hans that the few pieces of silver in the old mitten were
quite gone.

Hans reproached himself, now, that he had not hailed the doctor when
he saw him enter his coach and drive rapidly away in the direction of
Amsterdam.

Perhaps there is some mistake, he thought. The meester surely would
have known that meat and sweet wine were not a