Hans Brinker [28]
While skating along at full speed, they heard the cars from Amsterdam coming close behind them.
"Halloo!" cried Ludwig, glancing toward the rail track, "who can't beat a locomotive? Let's give it a race!"
The whistle screamed at the very idea--so did the boys--and at it they went.
For an instant the boys were ahead, hurrahing with all their might--only for an instant, but even THAT was something.
This excitement over, they began to travel more leisurely and indulge in conversation and frolic. Sometimes they stopped to exchange a word with the guards who were stationed at certain distances along the canal. These men, in winter, attend to keeping the surface free from obstruction and garbage. After a snowstorm they are expected to sweep the feathery covering away before it hardens into a marble pretty to look at but very unwelcome to skaters. Now and then the boys so far forgot their dignity as to clamber among the icebound canal boats crowded together in a widened harbor off the canal, but the watchful guards would soon spy them out and order them down with a growl.
Nothing could be straighter than the canal upon which our party were skating, and nothing straighter than the long rows of willow trees that stood, bare and wispy, along the bank. On the opposite side, lifted high above the surrounding country, lay the carriage road on top of the great dike built to keep the Haarlem Lake within bounds; stretching out far in the distance, until it became lost in a point, was the glassy canal with its many skaters, its brown-winged iceboats, its push-chairs, and its queer little sleds, light as cork, flying over the ice by means of iron-pronged sticks in the hands of the riders. Ben was in ecstasy with the scene.
Ludwig van Holp had been thinking how strange it was that the English boy should know so much of Holland. According to Lambert's account, he knew more about it than the Dutch did. This did not quite please our young Hollander. Suddenly he thought of something that he believed would make the "Shon Pull" open his eyes; he drew near Lambert with a triumphant "Tell him about the tulips!"
Ben caught the word tulpen.
"Oh, yes!" said he eagerly, in English, "the Tulip Mania--are you speaking of that? I have often heard it mentioned but know very little about it. It reached its height in Amsterdam, didn't it?"
Ludwig moaned; the words were hard to understand, but there was no mistaking the enlightened expression on Ben's face. Lambert, happily, was quite unconscious of his young countryman's distress as he replied, "Yes, here and in Haarlem, principally; but the excitement ran high all over Holland, and in England too for that matter."
"Hardly in England, *{Although the Tulip Mania did not prevail in England as in Holland, the flower soon became an object of speculation and brought very large prices. In 1636, tulips were publicly sold on the Exchange of London. Even as late as 1800 a common price was fifteen guineas for one bulb. Ben did not know that in his own day a single tulip plant, called the "Fanny Kemble", had been sold in London for more than seventy guineas.
Mr Mackay, in his "Memoirs of Popular Delusions," tells a funny story of an English botanist who happened to see a tulip bulb lying in the conservatory of a wealthy Dutchman. Ignorant if its value, he took out his penknife and, cutting the bulb in two, became very much interested in his investigations. Suddenly the owner appeared and, pouncing furiously upon him, asked if he knew what he was doing. "Peeling a most extraordinary onion," replied the philosopher. "Hundert tousant tuyvel!" shouted the Dutchman, "it's an Admiral Van der Eyk!" "Thank you," replied the traveler, immediately writing the name in his notebook. "Pray, are these very common in your country?" "Death and the tuyvel!" screamed the Dutchman, "come before the Syndic and you shall see!" In spite of his struggles the poor investigator, followed by an indignant mob, was taken through the streets to a magistrate. Soon he learned to his dismay