arrival of the good sloop Heinrich then was quite an event, and whenever
it occurred the neighbors round about would gather into Hanz's little
veranda to hear what news she brought from the city, and arrange with
Captain Balchen for the next freight. Indeed, these honest old Dutchmen
used to laugh at the idea of a man who would think of navigating the
Tappan Zee in a boat with a big tea-kettle in her bottom, and making the
voyage to New York quicker than the good sloop Heinrich.

I have been thus particular in describing Hanz Toodleburg's little home,
since it was the birth-place of Titus Bright Von Toodleburg, who
flourished at a more recent date as the head of a very distinguished
family in New York, and whose fortunes and misfortunes it is my object
to chronicle.

Having spoken only of one side of the family, I will proceed now to
enlighten the reader with a short account of the other, "Mine vrow,
Angeline," for such was the name by which Hanz referred to his good
wife, was a woman of medium size and height, and endowed with remarkable
good sense and energy. Heaven had also blessed her with that gentleness
of temper so necessary to make a home happy. They had, indeed, been
married nearly twenty years, and although nothing had come of it in the
way of an offspring, not a cross word had passed between them. It was
said to her credit that no housewife this side of the Tappan Zee could
beat her at making bread, brewing beer, or keeping her house in good
order. The frosts of nearly forty winters had whitened over her brows,
yet she had the manner and elasticity of a girl of eighteen, and a face
so full of sweetness and gentleness that it seemed as if God had
ordained it for man's love. Angeline's dress was usually of plain blue
homespun, woven by her own hands, and with her cap and apron of snowy
whiteness she presented a picture of neatness and comeliness not seen in