Strange to say, Peter van Holp soon arrived at a sudden
conviction that his little sister needed a wooden chain just like
Hilda's.

Two days afterwards, on Saint Nicholas's Eve, Hans, having burned
three candle ends and cut his thumb into the bargain, stood in
the marketplace at Amsterdam, buying another pair of skates.




Shadows in the Home



Good Dame Brinker! As soon as the scanty dinner had been cleared
away that noon, she had arrayed herself in her holiday attire in
honor of Saint Nicholas. It will brighten the children, she
thought to herself, and she was not mistaken. This festival
dress had been worn very seldom during the past ten years; before
that time it had done good service and had flourished at many a
dance and kermis, when she was known, far and wide, as the
pretty Meitje Klenck. The children had sometimes been granted
rare glimpses of it as it lay in state in the old oaken chest.
Faded and threadbare as it was, it was gorgeous in their eyes,
with its white linen tucker, now gathered to her plump throat and
vanishing beneath the trim bodice of blue homespun, and its
reddish-brown skirt bordered with black. The knitted woolen
mitts and the dainty cap showing her hair, which generally was