It was not long before he was the only youngster in the school
who had not stood at least ONCE in the corner of horrors, where
hung a dreaded whip, and over it this motto: "Leer, leer! jou
luigaart, of dit endje touw zal je leeren!" *{Learn! learn! you
idler, or this rope's end shall teach you.}

It was only in winter that Gretel and Hans could be spared to
attend school, and for the past month they had been kept at home
because their mother needed their services. Raff Brinker
required constant attention, and there was black bread to be
made, and the house to be kept clean, and stockings and other
things to be knitted and sold in the marketplace.

While they were busily assisting their mother on this cold
December morning, a merry troop of girls and boys came skimming
down the canal. There were fine skaters among them, and as the
bright medley of costumes flitted by, it looked from a distance
as though the ice had suddenly thawed and some gay tulip bed were
floating along on the current.

There was the rich burgomaster's daughter Hilda van Gleck, with
her costly furs and loose-fitting velvet sack; and, nearby, a
pretty peasant girl, Annie Bouman, jauntily attired in a coarse
scarlet jacket and a blue skirt just short enough to display the
gray homespun hose to advantage. Then there was the proud Rychie
Korbes, whose father, Mynheer van Korbes, was one of the leading
men of Amsterdam; and, flocking closely around her, Carl
Schummel, Peter and Ludwig van Holp, Jacob Poot, and a very small
boy rejoicing in the tremendous name of Voostenwalbert
Schimmelpenninck. There were nearly twenty other boys and girls