bakers' shop windows on the eve of St. Nicholas. The body and head were
soon visible; then came the arms and legs. Dolf, leaning over his work,
carefully guided the spoon, for fear of pouring the mixture too quickly
or too slowly. Suddenly he uttered a proud cry and slid the absurd
figure on to Riekje's plate, but no sooner did it touch the earthenware
than it broke in two, and ran into an indistinguishable mass. He tried
again and again, until the mannikin could stand on its legs. Then he
gave him a slice of apple for a head, to make him look more natural.

"My lad," Tobias said to his son, "in the corner among the shavings you
will find an old bottle of schiedam which I brought from Holland, along
with three others; they have been drunk, there is only this one left.
Bring it here."

Dolf obeyed, and Nelle took out some small glasses. Tobias uncorked the
bottle, and filled two of them, one for himself and one for Dolf. Anyone
could see that it was good old schiedam, for Tobias and his son nodded
their heads and smacked their lips with pleasure.

"Ah! my daughter," said Nelle, "it will be a happy day for us all in two
years' time, when a little sabot stands in the hearth filled with
carrots and turnips."

"Yes, Riekje, it will be a happy day for us all," said Dolf, closing his
big hands over hers.

Riekje raised her eyes, in which stood a tear, and said softly:

"Dolf, it's a good heart you have."