at surely could not harm him. Then while Gretel was
diligently obeying her mother's injunction to "clean the place fresh
as a new brewing," Hans and the dame sallied forth to revel in the
purchasing of peat and provisions.

Hans was careless and contented; the dame was filled with delightful
anxieties caused by the unreasonable demands of ten thousand guilders'
worth of new wants that had sprung up like mushrooms in a single night.
The happy woman talked so largely to Hans on their way to Amsterdam
and brought back such little bundles after all that he scratched his
bewildered head as he leaned against the chimney piece, wondering
whether "Bigger the pouch, tighter the string" was in Jacob Cats, and
therefore true, or whether he had dreamed it when he lay in a fever.

"What thinking on, Big-eyes?" chirruped his mother, half reading his
thoughts as she bustled about, preparing the dinner. "What thinking
on? Why, Raff, would ye believe it, the child thought to carry half
Amsterdam back on his head. Bless us! He would have bought us as much
coffee as would have filled this fire pot. 'No, no, my lad,' says I.
'No time for leaks when the ship is rich laden.' And then how he
stared--aye--just as he stares this minute. Hoot, lad, fly around a
mite. Ye'll grow to the chimney place with your staring and wondering.
Now, Raff, here's your chair at the head of the table, where it should
be, for there's a man to the house now--I'd say it to the king's face.
Aye, that's the way--lean on Hans. There's a strong staff for you!
Growing like a weed, too, and it seems only yesterday since he was
toddling. Sit by, my man, sit by."

"Can you call to mind, vrouw," said Raff, settling himself cautiously in
the big chair, "the wonderful music box that cheered your working in the
big house at Heidelberg?"

"Aye, that I can," answered the dame. "Three turns of a brass key and
the witchy thing would send the music fairly running up and down one's
back. I remember it well. But, Raff"--growing solemn in an instant--"you
would never throw our guilders away for a thing like that?"

"No, no, not I, vrouw, for the good Lord has already given me a music
box without pay."

All three cast quick, frightened glances at one another and at Raff.
Were his wits on the wing again?

"Aye, and a music box that fifty pouchful would not buy from me,"
insisted Raff. "And it's set going by the turn of a mop handle, and it
slips and glides around the room, every