bright look died away in an instant.

"No, no." She sighed. "He sees nothing. Come, Hans"--and the
smile crept faintly back again--"don't stand gaping at me all
day, and the new skates waiting for you at Amsterdam."

"Ah, Mother," he answered, "you need so many things. Why should
I buy skates?"

"Nonsense, child. The money was given to you on purpose, or the
work was--it's all the same thing. Go while the sun is high."

"Yes, and hurry back, Hans!" laughed Gretel. "We'll race on the
canal tonight, if the mother lets us."

At the very threshold he turned to say, "Your spinning wheel
wants a new treadle, Mother."

"You can make it, Hans."

"So I can. That will take no money. But you need feathers and
wool and meal, and--"

"There, there! That will do. Your silver cannot buy everything.
Ah! Hans, if our stolen money would but come back on this bright
Saint Nicholas's Eve, how glad we would be! Only last night I
prayed to the good saint--"

"Mother!" interrupted Hans in dismay.