f a lack of avoirdupois,
were less firmly attached to the ground, were lifted bodily. Walter
hung suspended in mid-air and looked over the heads of men much taller
than he.

"Are you walking on stilts?" asked a big fat woman, whose hips had
come into collision with Walter's knees. "Well, that's something."

The pressure was increasing. It seemed that the fat woman would soon
have Walter on her shoulder, like a gun; while Walter was thinking
that soon he would be roaming over the country like a knight. No one
was looking at the candles now. People were finding their amusement
in crowding and being crowded.

No, Kalver Street ought not to be widened. For, properly understood,
this crowding and pushing and shoving was the nicest part of the
whole business.

How tedious it would have been quietly to watch those two hundred
and fifty thousand candles from some comfortable position.

Our little man lay on the heads and shoulders of his brothers. Like
some aspirants to a throne, he threw himself upon the masses. But he
was beginning to feel generally uncomfortable. He wanted to hold on
fast to something, or somebody--to somebody's ears, or nose. That,
however, did not suit the masses. They didn't mind being squeezed;
but they didn't like to be held on to.

Crash!

Don't let the reader be alarmed. Walter had not burst under the strain;
but the pressure of the crowd had broken in the double doors of a
cafe! The irruption was terrible. The way the crowd streamed in might
be compared to the flow of molten lava. Walter described a parabolic
curve and landed on a table, without suffering any damage.

"Walter Pieterse!" cried the astonished party sitting around the table.

"Have you hurt yourself, Walter?"

No, he hadn't hurt himself; but he was rigid with surprise. Firstly,
over his ascent; secondly, over his aerial journey; then over his
descent among all kinds of glassware; and, finally--and that was not
the least surprising thing--he was surprised to find himself all at
once in the bosom of the Holsma family.

It was Sietske who asked him if he was hurt.

All the glasses, both great and small, were broken; but Walter was
still in one piece. Uncle Sybrand helped him to his feet. It wasn't
easy, for the press was great. However, Walter's size facilitated
matters.

The proprietor couldn't reach the scene of action, but he was able
to make his voice heard to the effect that everything broken must be
paid for. From o