Hans sent a long, bewildered gaze after her; it was useless, he
felt, to make any further resistance.

"It is right," he muttered, half to himself, half to his faithful
shadow, Gretel. "I must work hard every minute, and sit up half
the night if the mother will let me burn a candle, but the chain
shall be finished. We may keep the money, Gretel."

"What a good little lady!" cried Gretel, clapping her hands with
delight. "Oh! Hans, was it for nothing the stork settled on our
roof last summer? Do you remember how the mother said it would
bring us luck and how she cried when Janzoon Kolp shot him? And
she set it would bring him trouble. But the luck has come to us
at last! Now, Hans, if the mother sends us to town tomorrow, you
can buy the skates in the marketplace."

Hans shook his head. "The young lady would have given us the
money to buy skates, but if I EARN it, Gretel, it shall be spent
for wool. You must have a warm jacket."

"Oh!" cried Gretel in real dismay, "not buy the skates? Why, I
am not often cold! Mother says the blood runs up and down in
poor children's veins, humming, 'I must keep 'em warm! I must
keep 'em warm.'

"Oh, Hans," she continued with something like a sob, "don't say
you won't buy the skates. It makes me feel just like crying.
Besides, I want to be cold. I mean, I'm real, awful warm--so
now!"