Gretel and Hilda
The Awakening
Bones and Tongues
A New Alarm
The Father's Return
The Thousand Guilders
Glimpses
Looking for Work
The Fairy Godmother
The Mysterious Watch
A Discovery
The Race
Joy in the Cottage
Mysterious Disappearance of Thomas Higgs
Broad Sunshine
Conclusion

Hans and Gretel

On a bright December morning long ago, two thinly clad children were
kneeling upon the bank of a frozen canal in Holland.

The sun had not yet appeared, but the gray sky was parted near the
horizon, and its edges shone crimson with the coming day. Most of the
good Hollanders were enjoying a placid morning nap. Even Mynheer
von Stoppelnoze, that worthy old Dutchman, was still slumbering "in
beautiful repose".

Now and then some peasant woman, poising a well-filled basket upon her
head, came skimming over the glassy surface of the canal; or a lusty
boy, skating to his day's work in the town, cast a good-natured grimace
toward the shivering pair as he flew along.

Meanwhile, with many a vigorous puff and pull, the brother and sister,
for such they were, seemed to be fastening something to their feet--not
skates, certainly, but clumsy pieces of wood narrowed and smoothed at
their lower edge, and pierced with holes, through which were threaded
strings of rawhide.

These queer-looking affairs had been made by the boy Hans. His mother
was a poor peasant woman, too poor even to think of such a thing
as buying skates for her little ones. Rough as these were, they had
afforded the children many a happy hour upon the ice. And now, as with
cold, red fingers our young Hollanders tugged at the strings--their
solemn faces bending closely over their knees--no vision of impossible
iron runners came to dull the satisfaction glowing within.

In a moment the boy arose and, with a pompous swing of the arms and a
careless "Come on, Gretel," glided easily across the canal.

"Ah, Hans," called his sister plaintively, "this foot is not well yet.
The strings hurt me on last market day, and now I cannot bear them tied
in the same place."

"Tie them higher up, then," answered Hans, as without looking at her he
performed a wonderful cat's cradle step on the ice.

"How can I? The string is too short."

Giving vent to a good-natured Dutch whistle, the English of which was
that girls were troublesome creatures, he steered toward her.

"You are fool