e
mitt leaves off, whiter than mine, oh, ever so much whiter. I declare,
Mother, the bodice is tight for you. You're growing! You're surely
growing!"

Dame Brinker laughed.

"This was made long ago, lovey, when I wasn't much thicker about the
waist than a churn dasher. And how do you like the cap?" she asked,
turning her head from side to side.

"Oh, EVER so much, Mother. It's b-e-a-u-tiful! See, the father is
looking!"

Was the father looking? Alas! only with a dull stare. His vrouw turned
toward him with a start, something like a blush rising to her cheeks, a
questioning sparkle in her eye. The bright look died away in an instant.

"No, no." She sighed. "He sees nothing. Come, Hans"--and the smile
crept faintly back again--"don't stand gaping at me all day, and the new
skates waiting for you at Amsterdam."

"Ah, Mother," he answered, "you need so many things. Why should I buy
skates?"

"Nonsense, child. The money was given to you on purpose, or the work
was--it's all the same thing. Go while the sun is high."

"Yes, and hurry back, Hans!" laughed Gretel. "We'll race on the canal
tonight, if the mother lets us."

At the very threshold he turned to say, "Your spinning wheel wants a new
treadle, Mother."

"You can make it, Hans."

"So I can. That will take no money. But you need feathers and wool and
meal, and--"

"There, there! That will do. Your silver cannot buy everything. Ah!
Hans, if our stolen money would but come back on this bright Saint
Nicholas's Eve, how glad we would be! Only last night I prayed to the
good saint--"

"Mother!" interrupted Hans in dismay.

"Why not, Hans? Shame on you to reproach me for that! I'm as true a
Protestant, in sooth, as any fine lady that walks into church, but
it's no wrong to turn sometimes to the good Saint Nicholas. Tut! It's a
likely story if one can't do that, without one's children flaring up at
it--and he the boys' and girls' own saint. Hoot! Mayhap the colt is a
steadier horse than the mare?"

Hans knew his mother too well to offer a word in opposition when her
voice quickened and sharpened as it did now (it was often sharp and
quick when she spoke of the missing money), so he said gently, "And what
did you ask of good Saint Nicholas, Mother?"

"Why, never to give the thieves a wink of sleep till they brought it
back, to be sure, if he has the power to do such things, or else to
brighten our wits that we might find it ourselves. Not a sight have I
h