Walter Pieterse Part 4

There was no natural science then. Even to-day there is room for improvement along this line. It is said that some advance has been made recently. It is more useful for a child to know how corn grows than to be able to call the name of it in a foreign language. I don't say that either is incompatible with the other.

The public schools were most deficient at the time when Walter and Keesje were slowly crawling around the arena of honor; but I doubt if one could say much more of the "inst.i.tutes" of to-day. I would advise everyone to visit such a school as he attended when a boy; and I am convinced that after this test many a father who has the welfare of his children at heart will prefer to keep them at home. One comes to the conclusion, that after all in the school of clever Master Miller, who was so clever that he got himself addressed as M'sieu Millaire, precious little was to be learned.

Failing to make this test we continue to believe in the infallibility of M'sieu of Millaire. We always consider that one a great man whom we have known in childhood and haven't seen since.

When I remarked a moment ago that school-teachers are paid so n.i.g.g.ardly, I didn't mean that their remuneration was insufficient, considering the quality and quant.i.ty of the goods delivered--knowledge, scholarship, education. I only had in mind the bitterness of their lot, and the poor indemnity given to the man who spends his life in a wasp's nest.

In addition to versifying, Pennewip had still another hobby, which gave him more claim to a throne than did anything else. He was possessed with the mania for cla.s.sifying, a pa.s.sion known to few, but still of not infrequent occurrence. I have never quite understood the disease; and I gave up my search for the "first cause" as soon as I saw how difficult it is to get around with a hobby-horse taken from somebody else's stable. So I am going to give only a short sketch of Pennewip's harmless animal.

Everything that he saw, perceived, experienced he divided into families, cla.s.ses, genera, species and sub-species, and made of the human race a sort of botanical garden, in which he was the Linne. He regarded that as the only possible way to grasp the final purpose of creation and clear up all obscure things, both in and out of school. He even went so far as to say that Walter's New Testament would have turned up again if Juffrouw Pieterse had only been able to tell to what cla.s.s the man belonged who had bound the volume in black leather. But that was something she didn't know.

As for myself, I shouldn't have said a word about Pennewip's mania for cla.s.sifying everything, if I hadn't thought it might help me to give the reader a better picture of our hero and his surroundings. I should have preferred to leave the said Pennewip in undisturbed intercourse with the muses; but we shall have occasion later to refer to his poetic art, when we shall quote some poems by his pupils.

After the usual general division into "animate" and "inanimate"--the good man gave the human race only one soul--followed a system that looked like a pyramid. On the top was G.o.d with the angels and spirits and other accessories, while the oysters and polyps and mussels were crawling about down near the base, or lying still--just as they pleased. Half way up stood kings, members of school-boards, mayors, legislators, theologians and D.D.'s. Next under these were professors and merchants who do not work themselves. Then came doctors of things profane, i. e., those driving double rigs, also lawyers and unt.i.tled preachers, the Colonel of the City Militia, the Rector of the Latin School. Philosophers (only those who have developed a system), doctors with one horse, doctors without any horse and poets were further down. Rather low down, and not far from the mussels, was the seventh sub-division of the third cla.s.s of the "citizen population." Our hero would come under this sub-section.

Citizen Population, Cla.s.s III., 7th Sub-Division.

People Living in Rented Flats.

a. Entrance for tenants only. Three-window front. Two stories, with back-rooms. The boys sleep alone, dress, however, with the girls. Fresh straw in case a baby is born. Learning French, poems at Christmas. The girls are sometimes called Lena or Maria, but seldom Louise. Darning. The boys work in offices. One girl kept, sewing-girl, and "person for the rough work." Washing at home. Read sermons by Palm. Pickled pork on Sundays, with table-cloth, liquor after coffee. Religion. Respectability.

b 1. Still three windows. One story. Neighbors live above who ring twice (Vide b. 2). Leentje, Mietje; Louise heard seldom. House-door opened with a cord, which is sleek from long use. Sleep in one room. Straw-heaps in cases of confinement. One maid-servant for everything. Sundays cheese, no liquor, but religion and respectability as above.

b 2. Neighbors who ring twice. About as above. No maid, only a "person for the rough work." Seamstress. White table-cloth. Cheese from time to time, only occasionally. Religion as above.

c. One story higher. Two-window front. Small projecting back-room. The entire family sleeps in two beds. No trace of straw. The boys are called Louw, Piet, or Gerrit, and become watchmakers or type-setters. A few become sailors. Continual wrangle with the neighbors about the waste-water. Religion as above. a.s.sociate with "respectable folk." Read "Harlemmer" with III. 7, b. 2. No maid, or person for rough work, but a seamstress on seven stivers and a piece of bread and b.u.t.ter.

That brings us to Juffrouw Pieterse.

The reader will now have a very good idea of Walter's environment, and will readily understand why I said he had a "city complexion." That was when we saw him in the Hartenstraat, on the road to fame, or on the road to that nameless "other thing" of Juffrouw Laps. At all events he was on his way to things that will occupy our attention for some time yet.

CHAPTER VI

It was Wednesday, and the Pieterses were going to give a party. Juffrouw Laps had been invited, also the Juffrouw living over the dairy, whose husband was employed at the "bourse." Further Mrs. Stotter, who had been a midwife for so long and was still merely "very respectable." Then the widow Zipperman, whose daughter had married some fellow in the insurance business, or something of the kind. Also the baker's wife. That was unavoidable: it was impossible to buy all kinds of pastry and cakes without her finding out what was up. Then the Juffrouw living below and to the rear. Of course she wouldn't come, but the Pieterses wanted to show that they had forgotten the late quarrel over the broken window-pane. If she didn't come that was the end of the matter, so far as Juffrouw Pieterse was concerned. She would have nothing more to do with the Juffrouw from below. I may add that the lady from below did not come, and that her name was stricken from the calling-list of those higher up.

The children were to go to bed early, with the promise of a cup of sage-milk for breakfast if they would not make any noise the entire evening. This drink largely took the place of tea then. It was thought that the "noise" made by children would not be appreciated. Walter got permission to go play with the Halleman boys, who were thought to be very respectable. He must be at home by eight o'clock; but this was said in a tone that gave him no cause to fear a reprimand in case he should stay out later. Laurens, who of course was an apprentice to a printer, and usually came home about seven o'clock in the evening, was big enough to be present with the guests, but must promise to sit still and drink only two gla.s.ses. The big girls were to be present as a matter of course: They had been confirmed. Stoffel presided. His business was to meet the gentlemen when they came for the ladies about ten o'clock, and entertain the company with stories of Mungo Park.

Leentje was to remain till the people were all there, as it was so inconvenient to have to open the door every time. She could make herself useful in arranging the table and doing other things incident to such occasions. But she "must move about a little brisker,"

otherwise they would prefer to do everything themselves.

The eldest of the girls, Juffrouw Truitje, must look after the "sage-milk." Pietje had charge of the sandwiches; but Myntje was to see to it that the b.u.t.ter was spread a little thicker, for the last time the bread had been too dry.

Everything was going to turn out so nicely, "if only Juffrouw Laps wouldn't talk so much." That was her failing. And, too, they hoped that the widow Zipperman would "brag a little less about her son-in-law." This was considered a source of weariness. And the Juffrouw who lived over the dairy "might be more modest." She had "never lived in such a fine house"; and as for the shop--that was no disgrace; and on the top floor--but one cannot tell how it will be.

No one understood why the baker's wife used so many French words, which was not becoming in one of her station. "If she does it this evening, Stoffel, say something to me that she can't understand, then she will find out that we are not 'from the street,' that we know what's what."

"It's all the same to me," Juffrouw Pieterse continued, "whether the Juffrouw downstairs comes or not. I don't care a fig about it.--Four, five--Louw can sit there, but he must keep his legs still--and a chair there--yes--so! It's a good thing she's not coming; it would have been too crowded. Leentje, go to work--do blow your nose! No, run over to Juffrouw Laps's and ask the Juffrouw if the Juffrouw could spare a few stools--without backs, you understand; because the chairs there by the chimney--yes, ask the Juffrouw for a few stools, and tell the Juffrouw that they are for me, and that I expect the Juffrouws about seven. Give my compliments to the Juffrouw and wipe your nose."

Juffrouw Pieterse didn't like to use personal p.r.o.nouns; it was impolite.

On this afternoon Walter went to his bridge early. It was now not so useless as usual, for the rain of the day before had filled the ditch with water, which was even running, so that the straws which Walter thoughtlessly, or full of thought--both are about the same thing--threw into the water were carried down to the pond, where the logs lay that were to be sawed up by the "Eagle" and the "Early Hour." These were the names of the sawmills that for some weeks had been the witnesses of Walter's daydreams.

Glorioso was gone, and could not be replaced; but on those afternoons when he was free Walter returned involuntarily to the spot where he had had his first glimpse of the world of romance. How rough and crude the colors in that first picture! Perhaps it was the very roughness of the colors that attracted him and changed him, till he could not conceive how he had ever found enjoyment in the little cakes on the corner.

A peculiar prospective had opened up before him. He dreamed of things that he could not name; but they made him bitterly dissatisfied with his present condition. He was anxious to do everything prescribed to get to Heaven; but he thought it would be much easier to pray in such a cave with wax candles. And as for honoring his mother, a point upon which she always laid great stress--why didn't she have a train like the countess? Certainly he ought not to have sold the Bible; and he wouldn't do it any more--he had vowed it; but then he ought to have had a box filled with florins, and a feather in his cap, just as it was in the book.

He was disgusted with his brother Stoffel, and his sisters, and Juffrouw Laps, and the preacher and everything. He couldn't understand why the whole family didn't go to Italy and form a respectable robber-band. But Pennewip and Keesje shouldn't go; that was certain.

He wondered what had become of his verses. Every Wednesday such pupils as had been well-behaved, and, for that reason, deemed worthy to contest for the "laurel," handed in a poem written on some subject suggested by the teacher. This time the subject a.s.signed to Walter was "Goodness," which probably had some reference to his former behavior, and was a hint for the improvement of his moral character. But Walter had already put goodness into rhyme so often, and found the subject so dry and tedious and worn-out that he had taken the liberty of "singing"

something else. He selected the theme nearest his heart--robbers!

Like all authors he was greatly infatuated with his work. He was convinced that the teacher, too, would see the excellencies of his poem and forgive him for deviating from the path of goodness. The verses would undoubtedly be sent to the mayor, and he would pa.s.s them on to the Pope, who would then summon Walter and appoint him "Court-robber."

And thus he dreamed and threw his straws into the stream. They moved away slowly and disappeared between the moss-covered timbers. Involuntarily his fancy had trans.m.u.ted them into the characters of his world of romance. There went the countess with her long train, which got caught in the moss and held the countess fast. The virtuous Amalia met with no better luck; she got tangled up in the water lentils. And now came Walter himself. He approached Amalia, in her green robes, and was just about to rescue her, when he was swallowed by a duck. This was most unkind of the duck, for it was Walter's last stalk of gra.s.s; and now in the rattling and buzzing of the sawmills below he could hear Amalia repeating in a reproachful voice:

"Warre, warre, warre, we; Where is warre, warre, wall-- Walter, who will rescue me?"

This annoyed him, and he could not resist the temptation to throw a rock at the duck whose greediness had caused Amalia to doubt his chivalry.

The duck chose the better part, and retired after she had done Walter all the damage she could. But the sawmills paid no attention to these happenings and continued to rattle away.

Walter heard now in the noisy clatter of the mills all kinds of songs and stories, and, listening to these, he soon forgot Amalia and the Pope. That the reader may not get a wrong impression of these mills, I hasten to say that there was really nothing extraordinary about them. They buzzed and rattled just like other sawmills.

It often happens that we think we perceive something which comes from the external world, when in fact it is only a subjective product in ourselves. Similarly, we may think we have just imagined something, when really it came to us from the world of the senses.

This is a kind of ventriloquism that often gives cause for annoyance and enmity.

I wonder which turns the faster?--Walter listened to the mills. Now--I think--no, begin together. Good! No, the Eagle was ahead! Once more--now!

Which will get there first? No, that won't do. Once more together. Look sharp, Morning Hour,--out again! I can't hold my eye on it--what a whirling and buzzing!

You are tired, are you? I believe it.

If I might only sit on such a big wing, wouldn't I hold on tight? And wouldn't the sawyer look?

Why are you called "Morning Hour"? Have you gold in your mouth? And "Eagle"! Can you fly? Take me with you. What a big play-ground up there, and no school!

I wonder how the first school began. Which came first, the school, or the teacher? But the first teacher must have attended a school. And the first school must have had a teacher.

So the first school must have just started itself. But that is impossible. "Eagle," can you turn yourself?--with the wind? Can you turn yourself some other way? Try it. Beat "Morning Hour." Quick, quick--beautiful!