hattels.

In the low countries, this species of loyalty always has been, and is
now very much the fashion. In ten minutes, the gates were forced
open--old Koop knocked down, and trod under foot till he was dead--every
article of value that was portable, was secured; chairs, tables,
glasses, not portable, were thrown out of the window; Wilhelmina's harp
and pianoforte battered to fragments; beds, bedding, everything flew
about in the air, and then the fragments of the furniture were set fire
to, and in less than an hour Mynheer Krause's splendid house was burning
furiously, while the mob cheered and cried, "Long live King William!"

Before the courier could arrive from the Hague, all that was left of Mr
Krause's property was the bare walls. Merchandises, everything was
consumed, and part of the building had fallen into the canal and choked
it up, while fifteen schuyts waiting to be discharged of their cargoes
had been obliged to retreat from the fury of the flames, the phlegmatic
skippers looking on with their pipes in their mouths, and their hands in
their wide breeches-pockets.

The loyal mob having effected their object, gradually retired. It is
singular, that popular feeling is always expressed in the same way. Had
the mob collected for disloyal purposes, they would have shown their
disloyalty just in the like manner, only it would have been the Stadt
House instead of that of Mynheer Krause.

But now there was a fresh impetus given to the feelings of the mob. The
news had been spread like wildfire, that Mynheer the syndic had been
proved innocent, and ordered to be immediately liberated, and was sent
for by his Majesty; upon which, the mob were undecided, whether they
should prove their indignation, at this unjust imprisonment of their
worthy magistrate, by setting fire to some public building, or by
carrying him in triumph to his own house, which they forgot they
had burnt down. Fortunately they decided upon the latter, they
surrounded the Stadt House with cries of "Long life to our worthy
syndic--prosperity to Mynheer Krause," and rushing up stairs, they
caught him in their arms, and carried him triumphantly through the
streets bringing him at last to the smoking ruins of his own house, and
there they left him; they had done all they could, they had carried him
there in triumph, but, as for building the house up again, that was
impossible; so, as Mynheer Krause looked with dismay at the wreck of all
his propert