ving his punishment. He began to believe that
his mother was right when she said nothing would ever come of him.

Nor could Leentje help him. So he determined to make another attempt
to-morrow. Perhaps he could do better then. Leentje agreed with him.

"All right," said Juffrouw Pieterse. "But don't disgrace us
all. Remember, I told Juffrouw Laps you could do it; and the man's
birthday comes Thursday week. So you haven't any too much time."

Walter went to Ash Gate, found his bridge and began to weep bitterly.

"See what's the matter with that boy," he heard a woman saying to a
girl fourteen or fifteen years old. "Perhaps he has lost something."

"Have you lost anything?"

Walter looked up, and was surprised; for he seemed to have seen that
face before. It reminded him of Fancy.

"Now, everything will be all right There you are; and I have been
hunting for you."

"For me?"

"Yes, yes, but I just didn't know it. But I know it now. Tell me
right quick how to write the poem!"

The girl, who was helping her mother place the linen on the grass for
bleaching, looked at Walter in astonishment. She hurried back to her
mother to say that she didn't know what was the matter with the boy,
but that there was certainly something wrong. "He looks as if he were
scared half to death," she decided.

Then she ran and fetched water from the house near by and made Walter
drink. He saw that he had made a mistake; but there was something in
the manner of the girl that drew him to her irresistibly, even though
her name was only Femke. So the mother addressed her. And this name
reminded him of Fancy, which was something.

Femke pointed to an inverted basket and told him to tell the cause of
his trouble; and Walter did it as well as he could, while the mother
was busy with the linen.

"Maybe I can help you," the mother said. "I have a nephew who is
a widower."

"Yes, Juffrouw--but the poem? And there must be something about God
in it."

"Certainly. It's a long story. His wife was a niece of my
husband's--you see we are Catholics, and she acted according to
her religion--put a stone on those cloths, Femke, or they'll blow
away--yes, bleaching is a job. You have no idea what a bother
it is--yes, she acted according to her religion; and that was
right. People that don't do that are not much. But he--draw that
shirt back a little, Femke. The sleeve is hanging in the ditch--but
he didn't believe in it, and said it was all nonsens