her arms in the air:

"Oh, you little butterfly! Come along here, you're as lovely as an
angel!"

And she lifted Horieneke from among the flowers, right up to her beaded
breast, and pressed her thick lips to the child's forehead with a
resounding smack.

"Godmother, godmother," whimpered Trientje.

"Yes, you too, my duck!"

And the child forthwith received two fat kisses on its little cheeks.

The dogs were now unharnessed and father and Petrus had gone for a stroll
in the orchard. The boys stood crowding against the table, looking at
aunt undoing her parcels. In one were sweet biscuits, in another
brandy-balls, peppermints, pear-drops and toffy. All this was carefully
divided into little stacks and each child was given his share, with the
strict injunction not to eat any before noon. Fonske hid his in the
drawer, next to the canary-seed, Dolfke his in the cupboard and Bertje
shoved his portion into his pockets. It was not long before three or four
of them were fighting like thieves and robbers, while Stanse and Frazie
went to look at the baby, which lay sleeping quietly in the cradle.

First one more drop of cherry-gin apiece and then to dinner. The soup
stood ready ladled out, steaming in the plates. Horieneke sat demurely in
the middle, next to Doorke, with uncle and aunt on either side and, lower
down, father and all the children: mother had to keep moving to and fro,