THE LIBRARY / OF ' / THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES IN MEMORY OF MRS. VIRGINIA B. SPORER IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE (EASTLOORN) BY S. ULFERS TRANSLATED BY B. WILLIAMSON-NAPIER NEW YORK E. P. BUTTON & COMPANY 681 FIFTH AVENUE (All rights reserved) PREFACE / have observed the beauty of a farmer's life among his meadows and cornfields, under the canopy of clouds. I have also observed the beauty of a minister's work among these people. And it is about these things that I wish to tell you. If there be a moral in the story, so much the better! 2042188 CONTENTS PAGE I. WIEGEN, THE DREAMER . ... I II. THE SECESSION 62 III. HARDERS . 84 iv. THE MINISTER'S WIFE .... 120 V. THE GREAT DROUGHT . . . -139 VI. AKE, THE MAD WOMAN , . . 193 VII. ILTING, THE BELL-RINGER. . . . 229 VIII. GOEST1NG, THE DEACON . .- . . 264 IX. EDO . . . . . . . . 295 x. DOUBT . 355 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER On a knoll, amongst the tall heather which covered the undulating moor around him, lay Wiegen, the big shepherd boy, watching his sheep in the valley beneath. "Come here, Sipie!" he shouted to his dog, who away in the distance was jumping up against one of the sheep and had bitten a tuft of wool from its neck. But the dog refused to come at once. He was young and was still trying to find out who was to lay down the law, Ms master or he. "I shall teach you to obey me 1" Wiegen said to himself. "Why would you not come when I called you?" And at the same time he stuck his long shep- herd's staff with a small iron goad at the point into the earth, and aimed the lump of sandy soil which he dug up, so directly and with such painful force at the dog's ribs, that he left the . 2 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER sheep with a yelp and crept up to his master .with drooping ears. He lay down submissively, waiting for what might come, all the while casting furtive side glances at the boy. "Tell me now, what Blackie did to you ?" said the shepherd to his dog; "why do you not like him ? Do you want him to lose all his wool and have a 'shorn neck ? I shall break your legs, old boy, if you do it again. Do you think I want Schepers to tell me that I allow you to eat up his sheep?" But Sipie only gazed and gazed up at his master, at his eyes and his hands. If those hands had wished to hurt him, he would have avoided them by a side-leap, for he was as quick as lightning. But the humble hypocrite lay there quietly as if ready to receive the blows in a penitent spirit; it was not necessary to jump up before those hands moved; he was now reaping the benefit of the humble. Wiegen stretched himself at full length on the hill, and forgetting about all earthly things, his large and dreamy eyes roamed over the country around him, and over the blue sky and the clouds as they came and went. On the knoll where he lay stood two or three birches. The old trunks towered upwards, thick and crooked, glistening white with black IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 3 patches. The branches were white and glis- tening up to the top, where they changed into brown and broke into a hundred thin, fine, hanging stems, which gave the trees the appearance of weeping trees. But this was not so at all. A cheerful tone prevailed hi trunks and foliage, delicate green foliage, which ever rustled and never hung still, talking, whis- pering about a thousand things which happen on the moor, and of which only the birches can know. "Oh! go on talking and whispering, for I know all about it," Wiegen thought. "Did you imagine I did not know that quite early this morning the rabbits sat here, and that they played about until the two big bucks bit each other, while the does sat by the side ? And that the whole troop scuttled off head over heels to their holes, because the hawk shot down from a height. And what did the hawk tell you that I do not knowi? I know it all, and that he sat on the branch looking 1 across the hills at the marsh, and that you dared not say a word then." And Wiegen, lying at full length, gazed up at the little twigs, which laughed and nodded at him. "But I know something that you do not 4 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER know/' he continued pensively; "you can look across the moor, because you are so tall and high, but you cannot move from your places; you must always and always remain here; you will never get any further! You cannot get to the ducks in the morning', when they swim and dive and skim the surface of the water. I was there early this morning; they were sitting on the bank, and they stuck their beaks in between their feathers, and under their wings. They wanted to make them oily and clean. They took out the dead feathers, they did not want them, for they let them fall on the ground ; the whole bank is still full of them. And you did not see what I did, you sleepy-heads I They did not know I was coming, for I can steal along quietly on my bare feet against the wiind. And I had told Sipie to keep quiet, and I hit one with a stone, just on its head. Look! here it is, dead ; do you want to see it ?" And he raised Himself up from his prostrate position and took the duck, a large and shining one, from the bag beside him. "Do you see it up there?" he said. "No, Sipie, leave it alone, go away!" For the dog already had the feathers between hi's teeth. "Look, it has a red beak with a green point, IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 5 and the wings are blue and white, It is a drake. And do you feel tKe thickness of those greyish brown feathers on its breast? Wine shall have him when she comes." And at the same time he put the bird back into the bag. It migKt be that the village poli- ceman was sneaking about in the neighbour- hood. But his conversation with the birches was finished for the time being. For, sitting up straight, he fixed his eyes on the far horizon over the low range of hills; and he gazed behind him in the other direction. One could never tell; that policeman had such a stealthy way of creeping about. But it was Wine, there in the distance;; he could see her skirt blowing about. Now she wa;s climbing 1 down the hill; a moment after she was visible on the next, nearer now and so it went on; lost in the valley, and then in sight on the hill top; but always coming nearer and nearer. "Here, Sipiel" Wiegen shouted. For the dog, as well as His master, had discerned the girl's figure long ago. He knew she was bringing dinner; the dog never mistook the time of day. 6 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER And Wiegen shouted in vain, and with his shepherd's staff he threw a lump of earth, which did not touch him. The dog had a master and a mistress; he belonged to the one as much as to the other; the one coming now had a right over him too. And the boy saw how in the distance the dog jumped up against her, and licked her hands, and bounded on m front of her towards him. "He is still too young," Wiegen grumbled; "within a few months, I shall have given him a better training than any other shepherd hi the country could do." "Here is your dinner," said Wine, without greeting him, for this was not customary. "Schepers told them to give you some bacon." And as the youth untied the cloth, he saw a plate with potatoes and bread as well, which he started dividing with his dog. The girl stood leaning against the trunk of a birch tree; her strong legs did not require any rest. "Have you nothing to say to me?" she enquired. The boy was busy eating as if she were not standing there, he had not even glanced at her. Had he looked at her, he would have IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 7 seen her large eyes gazing pensively at him, the silent one. "Why shoultf I talk? You do not care about the things I tell you. Does it interest you, if I tell you about the hawk, and if I tell you about the rabbits, and if I tell you about the birches? You did not care either when I told you about the clouds. Did I not see it quite distinctly? What do you want me to say to you then?" But the girl did not say what sjie would have liked him to talk about. Her eyes were eloquent enough, if her lips were not. "That boy is blind and deaf," she thought; "a dreamer!" And she pouted. But aloud she said: "Surely, you know that we girls do not care about a hawk, or about your rabbits. Those are things for boys, Wiegen!" He looked up with some surprise and with a placid look in his eyes; more placid than Wine had ever seen in the eyes of any other boy in the village. He did not seem capable of understanding in what way a girl's wishes differ from those of a boy. In order to show him that, her lips would have had to be pouted still more. Now, however, he only saw a haughty and cold little face, haughty with 8 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER disappointment; and yet that proud look soon passed away. "I have thought of something, Wiegen," she said. "You must have your hair cut. It is far too long; the other boys in the village tease you about it." And indeed, the long, black locks which fell about his brown face and almost reached his shoulders made him look like a gipsy. "And then there is another tear in your coat ; how did that happen ? When you come home with the sheep this evening, you must bring it to me and I will mend it, for your mother cannot do it any longer; her eyes cannot see the thread." And Wfegen had a vague notion what the things were that girls thought about and liked to talk of. Did Wine like to hear about those things ? "And then, I have thought of something else," the girl went on talking. "You are eighteen years old now, and it is high time that you should stop looking after sheep. Only little boys do that sort of work, and you are far too big for that. All boys who have looked after sheep find other work to earn their living. And you cannot do anything else 1 Can you dig the ground ? Can you drive a cart IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 9 with horses ? Can you reap clover and rye with a scythe ? You cannot do those things, Wiegen I All boys marry some day, and then they must be able to do all the farm- work ; but a shepherd cannot get married. Looking after sheep is only fit for little boys!" And Wiegen once more had a vague notion what the things were that the village girls thought about, and liked to talk of. Was it those things that Wine wished to hear of? He sat there as one who has been allowed to peep into another world, and gazed on that strong figure against the tree with those covetous eyes and those wonderful lips which were yet bewitching. And it was as a seeker into that new world, that with innocent curi- osity he enquired: "Do all girls talk about marrying, as you do, Wine? And how; old are you, when you start talking about it? You are sixteen, are you not?" A deep red coloured the big girl's face, but it was not caused by shame, for her eyes looked angry as she turned to the boy, who did not even know that his prosaic ideas of things might be irritating to another person. So she said "I must go," and wanted to take the plate and the cloth. lo WIEGEN, THE DREAMER "But I want to talk to you, Wine," the boy said. "Listen, I have seen something again. As you stand there you can see the marsh, can you not ? that wide stretch of water between the hills?" And saying this, he jumped up, and standing next to her, almost behind her, he placed one hand on her shoulder and with the other he indicated the expanse of the. pool from one end to the other. She liked to feel Wiegen's hand on her shoulder, and she thought he might tell her anything he liked if he would only do that. What it was about, mattered less. "There, on the water, I saw a boat last night, and in the boat stood Peter, Peter the Apostle. He was hauling in a net, with great difficulty. For the fish which he had caught were people, men and women, dressed in many coloured clothes. And he took them out of the net and placed them in the boat, until the boat was quite full. 'I am not worthy, Lord, to be a fisher of men,' he cried, 'but if it be Thy will, I shall do as Thou sayest, Lord!' And he steered the boat towards the shore, to where the pines are. 'Come out of it, all of you, Peter said, and the men and women standing on the bank awaited his IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE n orders. 'You must live here under the trees, without houses and in tents; you shall be shepherds and live with the flocks. This is the new life. For all cities shall pass away, and all towers and churches shall be destroyed, and you are the new kingdom, which shall be built.' And I saw the sun shining on the coloured clothes of the new people, with a red light, because the sun was setting. But after sunset, when the red light no longer shone on the pines, the bright colours also disappeared from the clothes and they all looked grey, and afterwards even the figures vanished, and, when I looked again, there was nothing more to be seen. 'Peter,' I cried, 'Peter 1* and I ran to the pool, but the boat was not there either; everything had gone." Wiegen might have said anything he liked if only he had left his arm on the girl's shoulder. But now he had taken away his arm, and he stood there, almost forgetting the very presence of Wine, Not a glance for her, not a word for her. His large eyes, glowing with enthusiasm, gazed at the distant water; he apparently cared more about a white creature of the mist, which he had seen in his imagination, than about the girl of flesh and blood who stood beside him. And she 12 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER turned away passionately, as if she meant to go. "Silly nonsense, Wiegen, it was the evening mist hanging over the water in the setting sun." "Wine, you do not understand." He drew himself up to his full length and pointed with his shepherd's staff at the far horizon. "Do you not feel it? I have felt it such a long time. A new time is coming, the old time is passing away. The old time is corrupt, and mankind is corrupt, and the Church is old and corrupt. Everything must become new. And I must go and preach it unto all nations. There shall be no more cities, and no more houses and no more churches. Vast flocks and herds shall be fn the fields; and no one shall call anything his own. New people shall dwell on the earth, beautiful men and women, and they shall have all things in common. And God's evening glow shall illumine all the new world/' "And will those men and women marry each other?" Wine enquired. "I did not hear that yesterday. But I Have read it is written 'There shall be no marriage, for all people shall be as God's angels in Heaven' " And he was on the point IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 13 of reaching for his bag under the birch tree to fetch out his Bible. But the girl had never before been so. angry with the dreamer as she was now. He did not see it, however; he was looking elsewhere. But had he looked, he would have seen a beautiful girl, with a face on which pride and scorn fought with desperate love, a girl who would have loved to trample on that book of Revelation, in which this dreamer found his words and visions daily. She could have torn the book out of his hand, thrown it on to the ground in the mud, and kicked it until it was in pieces. But it was not necessary. For instead of a Bible a duck was taken out of the bag. The boy's thoughts had quite suddenly taken another turn. "Look," he said. "I almost forgot this. Here is the duck which I caught for you. But don *t let the policeman see." And, as if the subject had not been changed so abruptly, he related to her the history of the duck, which he had killed with a stone. A moment later the girl had really departed. She walked away with the bird under her apron, the cloth and the plate in her hand. Sipie accompanied her to the farthest hill. 14 . WIEGEN, THE DREAMER She had tears in her eyes, the wild tears of one wno loved, and who despaired of seeing a new life coming to the loved one, a new life in the way she understood it. Wiegen was three different beings; one was the boy, who talked with the flowers and the birds ^ the second was the dreamer, who saw visions, where no one else saw them; and the third was the sleeping one, wnom Wine could not awaken, although she brought him his dinner day after day. And it was the sleeping one, when awakened, whom she would have loved most. After Wine had left, Wiegen had slept for an hour or more. He had lain under the birches, stretched at full length with his face buried in the heath, his hand under his head. Why should a shepherd not sleep in the middle of the day, when a faithful dog watches the sheep, a dog who never sleeps? But he was awake now, and, before hie jumped to his feet, a plan had ripened in his head. He whistled for the dog who was keeping watch on a hill, the outline of his pointed head and pricked up ears clearly visible against the sky. "Good dog, well done!'* He stroked the IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 15 animal, who understood everything, and for whose education caresses were better than blows. "I am going for a swim, Sipie, are you coming with me?" The delighted dog bounded on in front of him towards tne marsh; he had come to the water while his master was still lingering on the highest hill and looking round. "I can safely do it," Wiegen said; "the sheep are lying quite peacefully, and Schepers will not come, I should think. There is no one on the moor, so far as I can see.". And, going down the hill, it was not long before he also stood on the bank beside the water. Sipie 's moutn was full of ducks* feathers, and he was playing a game with them. He let them go, and when the wind carried them along, he jumped after them faster than the wind. He would have preferred the ducks themselves, but to him it was almost as if he had them in the feathers. A coat, a shirt, and a pair of trousers, that was all Wiegen had to throw on the ground. For a moment he stood there, his naked, rosy flesh gleaming in the white sun- light against the blue water; then he plunged in head first, diving down amidst the splashing water, and rising to the surface far away 16 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER in the middle of the pool. He dived and swam with such speed that he shot straight up, the upper part of his body appearing above the water. A laughing young rural god, whose laugh was veiled by dripping water. A moment later he disappeared again into the deep water, his head first, then his body, then his legs. The dbg looked about for his master in surprise, and swam about the spot where he had disappeared, seeking for him. "Here, Sipie!" The boy's voice came to him from some distance, where Wiegen had come up again, holding a stone, which he had dived for, in his hand. "Find it I" And the dog came rushing along, but did not dive for the stone. "Silly dog, will you never learn to dive?" And to punish him, he threw handfuls of water against his head. But the dog revenged himself, for he swam up to his master and placing his paws on the soft flesh, he made long scratches with his sharp nails. Then, quite suddenly, Wiegen disappeared again with a few strong overarm strokes, beating the water into a foam with his feet, so that any one standing by the side could not have seen him for the clear splashing of water, sparkling as crystal. IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 17 Then he floated with stiff feet and arms stretched out, his eyes closed, a white water- lily on the blue surface. Afterwards he swam races with Kis dbg, so that the wavelets splashed up against the bank, and the sound of his laughing and shouting echoed against the hills. Then he sat on the bank in the sun, his arms clasped round his knees, Sipie beside him ; licking himself dry, as if he were not going to jump in again. "It must have been nice the way John baptized people," the boy thought, as he felt the pleasant heat of the sun on his skin, and stretched himself on the warm, moist moss. "What was it I read yesterday? John baptized at the river Jordan, near Bethabara, because there were many waters there ? . . . Yes, that was what I read. It must have been much nicer than being baptized by our minister in church. I should not mind being baptized every day by John . . . But what was it the people had to promise if they were baptized by him ? . . . Oh, I remember ; the minister told us. Well, I should have been quite willing to promise that; to help him to found the new kingdom, there in the desert, far away from the cities. Of course Jesus i8 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER is the most beautiful figure in the Bible. But I like John best! I should like to have been John myself!" The idea roused Him. He jumped up with a wild leap. He sought for the big coloured handkerchief in his coat, which was lying on the ground, and in a moment he had tied it as a girdle about his loins, in between liis legs. He stood there, his black locks hanging on his neck, with the long shepherd's staff in his hand, and, gazing with large, almost fanatic eyes to the distance, he exclaimed : "I am John ! listen to the word of the Lord, all you children of men ! You children of men, who live irv the East, and in the West, and all of you who live in the South!" His voice rang over the wide water and resounded in the pine trees on the other side. He fixed his gaze on those woods, those thousand trunks on the opposite side of the lake, as if they were the people for whom his words were meant. "The last days of the world are near! The new heaven and the new earth shall come. Everything shall be consumed by fire, the houses shall be burned, the church and the school shall be burned. Mother and Wine, IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 19 your houses shall also be burned. Come to me in the desert! Here I shall fojund my new community. We shall live in purity and in safety. Bread shall be our food and the water from the marsh shall be our drink. No one shall have money. All the gold and all the silver shall be buried under the three birches, as were the idols of Jacob's house under the oaks of Shechem. We shall cast off our beautiful clothes: we shall all have a girdle about our loins and nakedness shall be our clothing. Come to me, all you people of Eastloornl For the flames shall not reach here! This shall be the inheritance of the Lord! I, John, have spoken it!" The fanatic's speech would have commenced again, and he would have worked out his thoughts still further, if Sipie had not bounded up the hill, barking. John the Baptist looked in that direction in great astonishment. And a moment after he saw, appearing above the summit of the hill, the minister's grey head. He was red and panting with the effort of climbing. The old minister of Eastloorn, standing erect on the hill-top, looked taller than he was, against the sky. 20 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER "What does this mean, Wiegen?" he exclaimed. "Come Here and tell me what pranks you are at now!" The big boy obeyed, and climbed up, without remembering that he should put on clothes. The old man looked at the beautiful youth with secret pleasure; he could not help being pleased. He had sat down, tired, and Wiegen lay down at his feet. "Why were you shouting so, Wiegen ? I heard you at the three birches where I thought I should find you. And what were you saying about John the Baptist? It is a good thing there were no other people near, or they might have thought you were not quite sane, Wiegen !" "Did you wish to speak to me, Sir, that you looked for me at the three birches?" "Certainly, my boy, I was over there in Ake's hut, seeing her, and then I thought I should like to speak to you, for I never find you at home wh'en I go to your mother's, and I have something to say to you too." Wiegen could think nothing but good of this man, who never forgot one of his parish- ioners, and who came so far to look for him, the shepherd lad, a boy of very little impor- IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 21 tance after all. But, according to the tradition of the people fn Eastloorn, he did not tell the man that he thought well of him. These people were not accustomed to say straight out anything having the slightest appearance of praise. And the old minister had long since given up trying to find any strength for his work in encouraging words or praise from the members of his church. He had often thought, with a laugh on his old face, of his colleagues in the cities, and of what they would do without the smiles and handshakes and kind words which they expected from their flock, and which* gave them the power to continue their difficult work. "Tell me, my boy, what did you mean by shouting and screaming so about John the Baptist?" "I was John the Baptist, sir! This was the desert; and I had a girdle about my loins. And those thousand trunks there were a thousand people, to whom I was proclaiming the word of the Lord!" It did not occur to the boy that he was doing anything strange, or saying anything strange. Neither did the old man fail to notice that this might quite well have been the figure of the great Baptist, when as a young man 22 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER He started his work as a prophet in Israel, eating locusts and wild honey in the desert. "What were you going to preach unto the people, Wiegen?" "I feel that a different time is coming, sir. It is not well in the country, or with the Church. If the nations are not converted, God's judgment will come also over our people in Eastloorn !" The minister felt a little uneasy about what would come from the mouth of the dreamer, as some one might who sees an estimate ma4e of 'all the work, which he has done for forty years, according to a certain method and the best of his ability, in a community which he has ministered to with all diligence. "The Church is not at all like the kingdom of God on earth, of which I have read in the Bible," the boy 'siaid. "Jesus has founded a kingdom of heaven, and the people have made a Church of it. You must know that too, sir I" The old man looked up, surprised. Who had taught the boy that difference? He was Curious to know what the lad would make of it. And he encouraged him to pursue the subject by asking: "What is wrong with it then, Wiegen?" IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 23 "When you have done your work with your pupils, sir, then you have made them members of a church; but I should like them to be members of the kingdom of heaven, and afterwards baptize them, here in the marsh. But the people prefer the Church; it is easier in every way> do you see? When you become a member of the Church, well, then you go to church, and you believe the doctrine of your Church, and you do your best to make that Church greater, and you strive after the glory of the Church. But the world does not gain by it. Trie people remain the same. TEey all seek after riches. Just think of this parish] In what way does the Church alter a man?" "What should you like then, my boy?" "Away with the ministers, and away with the elders, and away with that stone building, and away with all outward show!" The boy jumped up and stood straight in front of his minister, in his left hand his staff, and his right hand stretched out. "I wish for trie kingdom of heaven upon earth ! If the people would only do what Jesus said, it would be here now ! They would begin to love each other with a great love. They would not wish to be anything special, the one above the other. They would not wish 24 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER to be rich farmers or to be in the town council ; they would sell all they possessed and give to the poor, so that all would be equally rich. They would cast off their beautiful clothes and do away with all nice food. They would not be happy unless they saw others happy, they would not wish to become soldiers, and there would be no more generals or kings, either. They would all be shepherds and farmers, and there woutd be no more cities; they would all live in small villages. And each man would go about with his Bible in his pocket, enquiring each day what that book told him to do. But I know quite well wEy the people do not wish it, my kingdom of heaven! The Church is a thing which can be seen! And the kingdom is the new life, which cannot be seen!" The old minister looked at the excited boy with kind eyes. There was nothing wrong with the theories which this young preacher, of the desert was proclaiming,. The old minister himself had often thought about such things in former years, when he had just commenced his career. But he had grown old and he had acquired a new insight. "My boy, you do not know the history of the Church! Neither have you ever read any IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 25 of the world's history!" was the dry rejoinder to Wiegen's idealism. "What is that, the history of the Church?" the boy enquired. <: It is all that has happened to the Church in former years. There have been many boys and men who thought as you do. Such notions always arise at certain times. One can calculate when such notions must arise again in the same way as one can count upon an eclipse of the moon with certainty. Look here, Wiegen, ever since Jesus was born, there have been people who wished to establish the king- dom of heaven upon earth in the way you mean. Some have wished to do it with the Bible in their hand, as you do. Others have wished to do it without that Bible, and they would like to do that at the present time. And some have tried to do it here, in the midst of civilized society; but others have tried it far away in the plains and the woods of warm countries, where they could go about naked, and where the juicy fruit hung on the branches. But none of those small kingi- doms ever came to anything; they all passed away sometimes in ten years, sometimes even in thirty days. And all those people who started such things did it because they 26 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER knew nothing about history. You do not know the history of mankind, either, Wiegen!" "But why should it not be possible? Every failure brings us nearer to the last attempt; and that will finally be the successful one!" "I should like to explain to you why it is not possible; but would you understand it, my boy? You may still be too young to under- stand. Look here; it is love which prevents it When a man and a woman begin to love each other, to love each other truly, and then get married and have children, a small king- dom is formed, 'which learned people call a state in the state. According to your conception, that small kingdom is in the way of the great Kingdom of Heaven. The small interests are obstacles to the great interests. That man and woman, who love each other and who love their children, cannot help it, yet it is the case. The family is the greatest enemy of socialistic states, for that is what we sometimes call those small kingdoms; and Socialism is the greatest enemy of the family. And because the inclination of the human heart has always been towards the family, no small socialistic state could ever hold its own. They have all perished. The love for wife and children was always greater than the love for the kingdom. IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 27 The family interest is always of greater importance than the general interest. It is the family which will always destroy all so-called kingdoms of heaven. Only where the people cease .wishing for a family can a socialistic state be possible. Do you understand now why I said that the love between man and woman must prevent such kingdoms of heaven ever existing upon earth?" The old man hesitated about continuing to say that which the boy could not possibly understand. But he went on, if it were only to formulate his ideas for himself and to put them into words. "Only where there is no love of man towards woman would it perhaps be possible to establish that kingdom: but love cannot be reasoned away. And also where one man loves more than one woman, and vice versa, it would be possible to establish such a kingdom, and that has been done. But you will under- stand that such a state cannot exist long. And so it has come about that wie, dwellers upon earth, never enjoy the sight long of those so-called kingdoms of heaven. But what am I saying to you, a boy of eighteen! You do not understand it at all, do you? Your love has been no other than a love for the 28 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER trees and for the clouds, and for the birds; is it not so, Wiegen?" Trie old minister had always been accus- tomed to say things to the members of his church, even if they did not understand him. He had never agreed with his colleagues, who always thought it necessary to preach and talk to their people in perfectly simple and childish language. "Do not think too little of their intellect," he always said. "Treat them according to a high standard; it is fallow soil, for the greater part, and if you sow in that soil you will find the harvest is greater than from another soil, which is cultivated every year!" And he was very seldom disappointed. There was a confused expression on the boy's face, as of one who understands, and yet does not understand. "But I should like to know, sir, wjiat the kingdom of heaven is, that you sometimes preach about on Sundays, and of which I have read in the Bible." "You can understand that, Wiegen, and I will tell you. The kingdom of heaven, which John meant and of which Christ spoke, is righteousness I Where righteousness is, there is the kingdom. And that righteousness can be there with raiment of camel's hair and without that raiment. That righteousness can IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 29 be in the rich farmer and in the poor farmer. It can be in the town counsellor and in the shepherd. It can be in the soldier and in the elder. It can be in the church and out of the church. The kingdom is within you. Say in future : '"I will preach righteousness I" and you will do more to hasten the coming of the kingdom of heaven, as Jesus wished it, than you would by reforming the world. Have you never read, Wiegen; 'the kingdom is not food and drink, but righteousness and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost ?' " "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do ?" the young man cried in despair, fixing his large eyes upon the sky and pointing towards the horizon with his shepherd's staff. "That you put on your clothes again, Wiegen, and that you preach the kingdom of heaven in a coat and a pair of trousers, and in looking after your sheep!" the minister said with a laugh. Tfiere was a blush of shame on the boy's face, and, as one who has suddenly come to his senses and whose eyes have been opened, he crept to the place where his clothes lay. When he returned, the old man said, as he placed his hand on his shoulder: "Wiegen^ you should leave the sheep to smaller boys 30 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER now; it is high time that you should become a labourer. You get lost here on the moor. You must go back to real life." "That is what Wine said to me this morning too," the young man answered, and his wide eyes looked into those of his shepherd. A moment after, the old man left him and walked towards the village, across the hills. And two questions were constantly in his mind. The first was : "Why did Wine say that to him? What did (she want from that boy?" The old man had good eyes to look into the heart of a young girl. And the second question was: "How is it that Socialism, Christian or unchristian Socia- lism, is by nature in the heart of man, even when he does not know it himself?" He was not long in finding the answer, but he was not so quick about finding the remedy to cure the people against their will. A? for Wiegen, the minister did not consider him strange at all. He thought him one of the most natural boys in his parish. It was on the village-square that the men gathered together in the evenings to talk over the affairs of the day. The Square was in the centre of the IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 31 village. In former times, when Eastloorn was not yet a village, there was a country road from North to South, through dark woods, and on that spot stood the house wjhere the weary traveller entered to rest either himself or his horse, for he had many miles to go before he reached the next house, far beyond the moor. And the road which led from the East to the West formed a cross-road there. In the course of years other houses were built round about it. But the original house was always considered the centre of the community When it was thought necessary to build a churcn, the church was built there. Then there was not a doubt left that the centre of the village was near the old house at the cross-roads. And that idea still prevails to the present day. There were some very high trees on the Square. They were old oaks, and none of the old people in the community had seen them planted ; Anen, the father of Brugt, the carrier, had always known then as thick as that; and the man was ninety years old. They were as high as the roof of the church; only the tower could be seen above the foliage. And no one ever suggested that those trees should be felled. In other cases the farmers 32 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER were always very careful not to let a tree grow too old; they made money of it before the wood began to lose its value. But not the oaks on the Square, for the village would no longer have been the village if they had been cut down and new young trees planted instead. All the villages in the neighbourhood, and those far away in Overijsel, had a Square with oaks. Asmus, the German merchant, who visited all the villages, even those in Groninger- land, had asserted that, if there were no Square, it was a sign that the villages were of a late period, and, therefore, had no distinguishing feature. And there, under the oaks, stood the large pump of Eastloorn. The girls came to and fro with their pails to pump up the pure, deep water. The water came from a depth of a hundred feet, Baalder, the carpenter, always said; and he had been told by his father, who had changed the old well into a pump with a sucker and handle. The girls were never in a hurry with their pails, neither did they go away at once when the pails were full. They always helped each other, for it was hard work ; and there was always much to talk about. Quite near the pump, under the thickest tree, stood the seat, stood two seats, in fact, IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 33 where the village boys generally sat with their feet on the bench, using the back to sit on. Then the pumping always lasted much longer, and the well seemed to be twice as deep as at other times. It was Sunday evening, and, one by one, a man had come out of his house, and then another, and yet another; and another. They sat down on the seat, and stood beside it, these six or seven men, in the way they had been accustomed to all their days. There was Wendel, the elder; and Schepers, another elder, whose house stood far away, beyond the inhabited part of the community; and Goesting, whose farm was on the moor among the pinewoods on the North side and on the outskirts of Southloorn; and Iken, who was a memoer of the Town Council; and Dreese, the grocer, for he had seen that the others were there, and he belonged to the party from of old. They all smoked short pipes and could talk without taking the pipe from their mouths. "I wish you could help me," Schepers said, interrupting the conversation which had already been started; "you know Wiegen, my servant, who looks after the sheep?" 3 34 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER "The dreamer!" two of them shouted simultaneously. "Yes, the dreamer! He is eighteen years old now and still a shepherd boy. I have been telling him for two years that it was time for him to stop, but he would not. Now, I had the minister with me yesterday, and he told me I must make him take to some- thing else even if he does not wish it. And the minister is right, for it is high time that the boy was taught something about farming; otherwise it will be too late and he will grow up a ne'er-do-well. -But, of course, I cannot let him go before I have found something else for him. Who is there in the community who could make use of the boy?" It was the custom in Eastloorn that a man should think of his neighbour and that he should think well of him. When these ol'd men met together on the Square in the evenings many things were discussed, which afterwards became deeds, and they were good deeds. There the servants were changed; there the orphans were boarded out; there the loans which a poor man might require for the year were agreed upon, and who should advance those loans; there the new members of the Town Council or the new IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 35 Church-wardens were chosen in time for the next election; there they considered what should be done in the moorland polder, and which roads had to be improved; so that, when afterwards Church-wardens and Town Councillors met, everything was ready and worked out; these important meetings only sanctioned what had been discussed and agreed upon by the men on the Square. "It will be difficult," Goesting answered. "Who will take this boy, when every other lad is better, and ready for his work?" "To have dreams and visions is a work that has never been well paid," said Dreese, "since the kings of Egypt and Babylon have ceased to exist. Were it not that Joseph and Daniel had kept up the honour of their comrades, the others would have been sent away by their lords long before!" "He who takes Wiegen into his service can be certain that he does not get any one like Joseph or Daniel; those were clear-headed fellows, but this is a muddle-headed youngster." "Yet everyone will have to agree that he is a good lad; he knows his Bible as few others in the parish do, even among the older people. And, although every other boy of his age runs after the girls in his spare time, he 36 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER sits with his mother. And he has never yet entered the public house." "He had another vision last night," Schepers said; "I got it out of him. He was busy driving the sheep into the fold; it was late and almost dark. As he was counting, one, two, three, and so on, while he let them into the fold, an angel came flying from the West, a fiery angel, straight through the heavens in the direction of the fold, towards the East. The light was so strong that the earth was illumined by it, and Wiegen saw the brilliancy of it on his clothes and on the wool of the sheep; the light streamed in at the door and lighted up the farthest corner of the fold. He dared not look up, but he could see by the lichf on the ground that the angel flew fast. Neither did he look up when he heard the angel's voice. 'Purify the Church of the Lord!' the angel cried ; 'convert the earth and its nations ; they who bring about righteousness shall be the kingdom!' Wiegen was so confused that he had to count all the sheep over again, for he could not remember the last number." "It must have been a falling star," Dreese said, with a laugh, "a falling star, such as we have seen before. Who can make use of such a boy for work?" IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 37 The men had not noticed that a girl had approached the pump, carrying her pails. It was Wine, who had to fetch water for her mother, and at the same time for Wiegen's mother. She had finished some time ago, but she lingered, still busy; those pails seemed never to be full. But none of the men glanced at her, they were top deep in conversation. "I think," Wendel remarked, "that Goesting should take him. Let Goesting do it. No one has so much patience as Goesting; when he has had him for a year or two, Wiegen will probably be able to dig the ground, and he will also be able to manage the horses and the plough and all the other things that a good farm-labourer should know. Wiegen will not like to be with any one in the village, he does not care for the chatter of the other boys; but the life on the moor, with you, Goesting, will please him. Then he will be among the pine-woods. He will imagine that he can dream there, but hard work will soon cure him of that." The other men were all of the same opinion, and enlarged upon the subject, so that Goes- ting ended by saying: "If you all think that he should come to me, then it will have to 38 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER be, and I have no objections. Send him to me after Easter, Schepers." "Look here, why afe you listening ?" Dreese exclaimed suddenly, for he had caught sight of the young girl. "Would you not like to put in a word or two when we are talking about the boys?" The big girl's face -crimsoned. She wanted to lift the pails from the ground and go away. But a sudden thought made her put them down again, and going up to the men she looked straight into Goesting's eyes and said: "I thank you, Goesting, that you will do what no one else would have done." Then she went ; for her own words made her blush even more than Dreese's words had done. "That is not like one of our girls," Dreese remarked; "which boy or girl in our village would let out that they had an understanding with one of the opposite sex ?" "And yet I know there is no understanding 1 ," Schepers answered; "that is to say, if love must come from two sides ; for Wiegen has no feelings of that sort." "You do not know anything about that, Schepers," Dreese said, "you, who have never been married 1" No one could see by Schepers' face what IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 39 was the sad answer he would have given, if he had spoken. For who, in the community, knew the history of the elder, who had also been yoking once? "It is silly of Wiegen," Wendel observed; "one must be a dreamer to see nothing 1 of the beauty of that girl, and to keep any one like that at arm's length !" Not one of the men thought that Wendel had said anything wrong for an old man; their eyes were still the same eyes as they had had thirty or forty years before. And so the men talked on about what they themselves had felt long ago. Under the trees on the Square, they mapped out the lives of the people in their village^ patriarchs in thoughts and deeds; until the moon shone through the oaks and the lights in the windows urged them to go home, where their wives and children awaited them for supper. And after Easter, Wiegen, whose hair was cut short now, like that of the other boys, walked behind the cart on Goesting's farm with the reins m his hand, and he worked with a spade until in the evening his back was aching with the unusual labour. 40 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER But he could not forget how to dream, and the sleeping person in him, whom Wine would have liked to awaken, was as fast asleep as ever. Who has ever heard that work can awaken love ? If Wine did not do it herself, the sleeping person would never become a waking one I And Wine realised this during the course of that year; and she realised it with tears, which she sometimes wept far away on the moor and sometimes in her small bedroom. And when two or three years passed in this manner, she despaired that there could be anything about her and in her which would compel Wiegen the man to triumph, where now Wiegen the dreamer reigned. It was on an autumn evening that Wine came walking up to Goesting's farm. A fierce wind blew over the moor. It came from the North West and brought cold rain, which it drove acrose the hill. And the wind laughed, laughed boisterously, as he shook the oaks on Goesting's farm, for he wanted their bran- ches, and got them too. And he laughed as he shook the fir-trees beyond; for he wished IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 41 to break them too; but they only swayed, being supple ; they only dropped a few fir-cones to pacify him. But that made him angry, and with a fierce howl he swept on to fields and coppice, only to be back again a moment after. He played havoc with the straw roof of the farm, and tried to carry off some straw. He made the most curious sounds, sometimes high up in the air, sometimes quite near the ground. And he made the cows on Goesting's meadow quite wet, so that they turned their heads away from him, under the alders which had never been felled, but which he now felled with a sharp sickle. Farther on in the orchard, he scattered the apples which Goesting had wished not to gather yet, thinking that they might improve if only the autumn sun would shine a few days longer. And away he soared, high up in the clouds, which he hurried on with wild leaps, as if they were sheep who could resist him. It was the first storm of that autumn, coming from the region where the other storms waited impatiently until their turn came to rage over sea und country. But Wine had felt neither the wind nor the rain. How should she know that her head and hands were wet, and that her clothes clung 42 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER to her back and her strong shoulders 1 The storm within, which never abated, either by night or by day, was much worse than the storm without. She did not go towards the door of the farm, but in the direction of the barn behind it. She looked in, but saw no one. She peeped into the stable, out the two horses were not there. "He is certainly out on the field with the plough," she said aloud. And then she walked to the fields, the plough-land in the midst of the coppice. Wiegen drove the share through the rough unploughed soil. The two horses were in front of the plough, and the tall, slim, young man made a straight furrow. Wine saw it, and she could not help saying : "He is as good a farm labourer as any other. Look how well he turns the plough; his arm is strong, and his hand firm! They are young horses, but they do what he wants them to do; he has a grip of them!" And for a moment it was as if a light shotie before her eyes. But it was not for long. She walked over the lumps of sand, with legs wide apart, unevenly, in order to walk steadily and not to stumble. The soil was as rough as any she had ever walked upon. "How IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 43 is it that those farm labourers walk just as easily on it as on a level road?" she thought. "Wiegen," she said, as he reined in the horses; "I have come from your mother. You must come home; she is much worse. The doctor has said that I must fetch you." "I knew it," the young man said. "How could you know it, Wiegen ? Did any one come here to tell you,, then?" "I know so many things beforehand, Wine. But when I know ft, I always think: 'How can I be sure that it is true ?' It is no good to me, to know it sooner. For in any case I have to wait until the moment that it happens. And then every one else knows it too. That is why I did not come before you came to warn me.'* "But how did you know it then, Wiegen?" "It was in this way: A moment ago mother was here with me on the field. And she spoke to me; she said to me: 'You will be alone now, my boy!' That does not matter, mother,' I said., 'I have long been alone!" But why should I tell you all mother said to me? She walked beside me, next the plough, up and down, from that end of the field to here, and from here back again to the other end. And sometimes she held my arm, but that was difficult, because of the ploughing. And then 44 WIEGFN, THE DREAMER she threw her arms round my neck. I felt her tears against my cheek. A moment later she was gone. I did not see her any more. And so I knew that mother was going to die. I really thought she Was dead already, and this was her farewell." "Come with me, Wiegen; she is still alive !" And then the man went back to the stable with the horses, and gave the animals fresh grass, throwing it into the manger. And he brought in the plough, for fear the rain might rust the iron, and he looked carefully if there were anything else to be done. Then he shut the door of the barn and said: "We will go; come along, Wine!" "That is no dreamer," the girl thought; "look how he thinks of everything and arranges all, as every other good farmer would do." But she knew quite well that this did not tally with what he had told her a moment ago about being able to foretell events. This gave the girl something new to worry about Silently the two people walked side by side. The wind blew the rain into their faces. Her skirts were blown about, and she had to put her feet down firmly to make any progress. But he walked as if there were no wind; his IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 45 step was 'the step of a strong man, Wine noticed They did not speak one word. Occasionally she glanced up at his face, which had a set and beautiful expression, beautiful according to her ideas of manhood. It was not quite dark yet, so that she could still see it well. But she thought it would not be right to think of such things, not at such a time, at least. And then she looked straight in front of her at the narrow path, taking care not to stumble, for the road was very uneven on account of the heath which had grown over it. As they went, the path being narrow, their hands occasionally touched. It made her tremble, but she also thought that it was not right, this trembling, not at such a time, at least. And sometimes she wondered whether it was right that she should walk beside him. Why had she waited for him ? Why had she not gone on while he was seeing about the horses ? Now, while he was thinking of his mother, surely she should not come between those two? She wished that the road were wider, or that it were possible for her not to think of him. But all at once what was that she heard? 46 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER He was sobbing; Wiegen, the great strong man! She could not believe her ears; for the men in Eastloorn never wept when any one else was there. They were all strong in $elf control. She had never been able to under- stand it, for it took very little to make her weep. She was always ashamed of it when it happened; but she could not help it. There, she heard it again. No, it must have been the wind; she must have been mistaken. But she had to look at him once more: she must have certainty. And she saw that large tears fell from under his drooping eyelids. And she did not know what she was doing. "Poor boy !" she cried. And her strong arms were round his neck and her lips were against his lips, for one moment wildly, full of pity and passion. But she immediately realised what she had done. Her arms let go, she gave a shriek of shame and rusned wildly on through the .wind and rain, leaving the young man in blank surprise, his thoughts about his motner who .was ill and dying suddenly mixed up with other thoughts and wonderful questions which he could not answer. A short tfme after he stood beside his mother. But that mother was dead. It had been IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 47 true after all; she had come to him outside on the fields. She had not left him without a farewell. His mother had embraced him and kissed him. And then he thought of the other one who had also embraced him and kissed him. A few neighbours came in and out. He could not understand what they talked about. Most of them were women. But they made him understand that he must leave the room. When he came back later on, his mother lay straight and still in pure white clothes, as was customary there. That night he remained alone with the dead body. "He does not wish us to stay there to-night ;" the women said to one another behind the barn. "What man has ever kept watch alone with a dead body? That is a thing one can only expect from the Dreamer ! But leave him alone, if he wishes it." It was past midnight, and the boy still .sat on the chair which he had drawn up close to his mother's bed. A small lamp, such as the farmers use, bur- ned on the table and shed its light on the face of the dead woman, for Wiegen had pulled 48 WIEGFN, THE DREAMER back the sheet and sat watching the face all the time. He liked that. It seemed to him as if she were asleep,, and as if she would wake up afterwards and talk to him again. He liked watching that face, it lay there, looking so peaceful, so pure and sweet. Were there any wrinkels on that fore- head ? No, they were gone ; a pure light illuminated that forehead. And were the lips still so tightly pressed together, as the lips of people who must work hard and exert themselves? No, the lips were apart, as of people who need have no care either for their daily bread or for anything else. And the eyes were closed so peacefully; if she were to open them again, it would be with the look of some one who has no more wishes, because all wishes have been fulfilled. And then those eyes would look at him, as if they were saying : "Wiegen, my boy, I am now in the land where no one is poor, and where no one suffers ; you must come here too,; later on!" He heard the wind against the window- panes. He looked up. "Those windows should be able to stand the wind a few years longer; they are not very old yet," he thought. "It was only last year that I mended them; but it would IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 49 mot do for the storm to became worse; otherwise my roof might be damaged; ajid what Goesting gives me in six weeks will not be enough to pay for that too." When he looked back at thie bed, h5s mother's eyes were wide open and she was gazing at him. "Have you waked up, mother?" "Yes, my boy, I have something to say to you. When I was with you on the field this afternoon, you had no time to attend to me. You went on ploughing. You would not stand still. But that was quite right. A good labourer must put work first; must he not, my boy ?" "But I knew you were with me, mother! You kissed me!" It is easily understood why that made an impression on him. For ever since he was a boy his mother had never kissed him. That was not the custom among the mothers of Eastloorn. "Why is it we never do that any more, when our boys grow up?" she said. "We must be curious women here. Our hearts make us long for it always, and yet we do it not. We are a strong people and do not give in to such emotions. Who taugfct us to control ourselves where it is not necessary?" 50 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER Her lips moved in a mechanical, almost coldj, manner, a? of a person whose lips will never more be moved by any passion. Her hands also lay still and quiet under the sheet, while her feet were quite rigid. "Are you alive, mother, or are you dead? Did the women lay you out too soon?" "No, I am dead, my boy. But I have somer thing else to say to you, and it is this : Has Wine never kissed you?" "Yes, mother; this afternoon, when I was walking here from Goesting's. She was walking beside me. And it was at the turning of the path on the moor, there where the old oak stands. You know that oak which grew bent because formerly it was struck by lightning and lost half of its branches." "Did Wine really do that? That is not like the women of these parts either!" "She looked up at my eyes, and when she noticed that I was weeping, she was touched with pity. Her arms were round my neck and her lips on my mouth. "Poor boyl" she said. 1 do not know how it came about, mother. But all of a sudden she had gone, rushed on in front of me to the village." He related the incident slowly, as if he wished to feel it all over again, as he had felt it then. IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 51 ''That was good of Wine," the mother remarked. "Who has ever been sorry for you* ray boy? Not even your mother I" Then it was quiet in the room for a long time, and once more the wind and rain beat against the panes. At last the woman continued: "Should you not let Wine do the housekeeping here in my place, Wfegen ? Some one must look after you ?" He did not answer, and she went on : "When you were a shepherd boy on the moor all these years your thoughts wandered, and you became a dreamer. It was not looking after the sheep only, that caused it, for it was in you. But you kept it up too long, and then you could not stop dreaming. You have improved since you went' to Goesting's, but you must go further. To work is life, Wiegen, and not to dream I And to love is life even more !" "How am I to know if I am dreaming now, or if I am not dreaming, mother? Is all this really happening, or is it not, mother?" She did not answer at once, but went on after a little: "Have you ever looked into her eyes, my boy? What sort of eyes are they? What sort of lips are they ? And lower down ; have you ever looked at those arms ? And is she not 52 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER tall and strong? Is there a girl in the parish so pretty as Wine, Wiegen?" There was the sound of thunder outside, a long and heavy roll of thunder, as one often hears in autumn, loud because it is rare. The windows shook and the old house trembled. The wind, carrying with it torrents of rain, seized the planks of the outhouse beneath; they groaned to remain attached to each other. And outside on the street, the people shouted .out from the one house to the other, people who had waked up and come out to have a look. Wiegen jumped up with a start, ran to the window, and looked out, But there was no second roll of thunder, as is often the case in autumn. He sat down again on the chair beside the bed. The light of the lamp fell on the dead face. The eyes were shut now and the lips closed, the arms stiff beneath the sheet, and the feet rigid. So Wiegen was sitting when the morning dawned, and he heard the first cart on the street, going to the field. That he knew was Wendel's cart; his man never walked beside the horses, but always sat crooked on the box whether the cart were full or empty. He was rather lazy, the other men in Eastloorn said. IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 53 The day came for Wiegen. He knew not whether he had slept that night there on his chair. One thing was certain,, he was awake now. Neither did he know what he was to think or that conversation between him and his mother. Did that also belong to the realm of visions and dreams? Was it real, or was it not real? And might it not be the mixed feelings which the sad death of his mother and the first kiss which he had received from a strange woman had roused in him? He did not know, and worried about it. But the fact that he did,' not know showed that Wiegen had made progress. Some years ago he would certainly have looked upon it as a vision, On the day after the funeral Wine came very early in the morning. The door was open; Wiegen, of course, was up already. He had to go to Goesting's; he had to be there, as he had always, been, before the old farmer and his wife were up. A good labourer in Eastloorn had,' done a good deal before the master and his wife came out. "I have come to make your coffee, as I have always done for your mother," she said; 54 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER and, with the coffee-mill between faer knees, she started grinding, while Wiegen watched her for a moment. He considered it quite natural that she did it. She did not look up; for she thought of him as of one who had lost his mother. "I may not come between him and his mother," went though her mind constantly. The fire was on the wide hearth and the kettle hung over it; Wiegen had seen to that. "I should not have imagined that the Dreamer would have thought of such things; I thought he would have run away to the farmer's without any coffee." "What a queer way that boy is behaving!" she thought again, without looking up. "One moment he is standing by the window, then by the fire, then at the door. Dreaming again ?'* But he was not dreaming. His eyes were always fixed on her, whether he was standing by the door, or by the window, or at the fire. He looked at her mouth, of which his mother had spoken; and lower down at her arms and at the strength and beauty in her. He also wished that he icould see those eyes of which his mother had spoken; for he could not remember ever having looked into her eyes. He must make her look up. IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 55 "Wine," he said, and nothing else. He saw into those eyes, those large eyes, and in them he read a question, a great question. She did not look like a happy girl. "How long have you been grieving, Wine?" "Have I been grieving, Wiegen? How do you Know that ?" "I must tell you about mother, I spoke with her when she was lying here dead that night; she talked with me all night." "Have you been having dreams and visions again, boy?" And an even more miserable look came into her eyes than before. "No, listen to me," and he told her what his mother had said to Kim when she awoke on her bed of death. The girl blushed a deep red when he finished speaking. She took the coffee-mill from between -her knees, got up and went to the fire, which suddenly seemed to require her attention. "Silly dreams, Wiegen, you know; that as well as I do I Your mother did not wake up at all; the dead do not come to life again. Those are your own thoughts which come out of your own head, and which you imagine came from your mother!" But she was glad that his own thoughts suddenly took that shape. 56 WIEGEN, THE DREAMER But Wiegen had seen the blush. His eyes had been opened, he who had been blind now saw for the first time what beauty there was in the rosy colour on a girl's cheeks. And his eyes had been opened to more than that. Standing behind her, he saw the whiteness of a neck, the blackness of thick, tied-up hair; standing behind her, he saw the curve of her shoulders, the rounded shape of her hips. The seer "had in truth become seeing* ( A leap, a wild leap, and his arms were' about her; and his face bent dver the frightened head of the girl. An unchained passion had swept over him, as a wild stream which breaks throught the dikes for he first time. And in the girl's: heart was a great fear wKich made her think : "I have done trust Oh, I have unchained this passion (" "Let me go, Wiegenf Remember your mother, who was buried only yesterday. It is a sinf* "ft is no sinf* Wieg And yet they were quite sure that she had been buried. The whole village knew it for a certainty; there was no doubt about it. It had been in winter. It had long been expected that she would not live. 128 THE MINISTER'S WIFE But when the announcement was made at every house, even at the farthest one on the moor, for Senserff had not wished one person to be passed over, then they were all startled. A deep mourning had come over the village, as if each one had had a death in his own house. And if one pjerson had set the example and had drawn the curtains and closed the shutters, all the people in East- loom would have done the same: for it was every one's wish to do it. Schepers had said,: "It is not my place to set the example, for would ft not look as if I considered myself the first in the village ?" And when he had not dared, no one had the courage. But every one in Eastloorn was as sad as if he had been sitting behind closed shutters and drawn curtains. Also the people would have liked to go to the vicarage to say a comforting word to their minister. But no one had the courage. Many a one could have found the right words, which they might have said; not many people living in a town could have improved upon them. And yet they considered it more courteous to stay at home and not to intrude. They were as children who see a funeral pass ; IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 129 they stop their game in the middle of the street and creep behind a hedge, and peer through the branches to see the pjrocessibn coming by, while their faces suddenly become grave and reverent. No one would have dared to go to the minister. But they had all fielt that one or more of them must act as their ambassador, and, whenever any two met on the street or anywhere else, they were sure to say: "The elders should go." There was a silent request from the people to the elders to do it. But each of them, when at home, said to his wife and children: "Do you not know then what a difficult task they want to lay on our shoulders ?" The elders agreed that Schepers was the one who should go; and he gave in at last. "When he went to do it, he kept on his workman's clothes ; he had purposely not put on his best suit. "That was wise of him," the people said afterwards; "by doing that he avoided the appearance of wanting to be the most important." When he turned into the road which led to the vicarage, he went past the door, as if he were going further up the village, and when he came back, he went past again as if he bethought himself of a message. The 130 THE MINISTER'S WIFE verger's wife saw him. "Quite right, Schepers," she thought; "quite tight, Schepers; I am glad you had not the courage to go in at once, for he who visits the house of grief must feel small." But at last he went in. In tlie room where Senserff sat by the fire, deep in thought, he remained standing at the door for a moment, cap in hand. At that moment he represented the respect of a whole population. And then h'e took courage. Going up to the man with whom he wanted to speak, he said: "Sir, no one dares to come, and now they have sent me to speak to you; also, I think, I have something to say!" "I can tell you that Scfrepers must have spoken well to the minister," Niesink, the bee- farmer, said to his neighbour later on. "What did He say?" the neighbour asked. "Well," the bee-farmer answered, "he began to talk quite softly, mumbling as some one does who has lost his speech and cannot articulate. And He looked at the minister so that the minister suddenly felt that he represen- ted the grief of an entire parish and burst into tears. And then the moment came. Schepers put out the other hand', which was free, and took hold of the minister and said: IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 131 "Sit down here, on this chair," as if he were the host in that house and the minister his guest. And he spoke to the minister as a father does to his child." "But, Niesink, what did he say? I suppose he quoted mighty words from the Scriptures." "No, my man; the comforters who begin to quote from the Scriptures at once are men who find nothing to say from their heart, because they have no real feeling, and that is why they must borrow words from the Holy Scriptures. They must make up for their want of feeling by quoting from the Bible. Do you know what Schepers did? When they were sitting, he began to talk about the minister's wife, without mentioning her death. He went on telling him things that he had come through with her and things that the people in the parish had known of her; all beautiful things. Some of the stories the minister knew, of course; but Schepers did not mind that; and some of the stories the minister did not know; they were new to him. The minister was surprised that his wife had done noble deeds that He did not even know of. Schepers did nothing else, only went on telling his stories. 'Do you think I am a man great enough to place myself above the minister 132 THE MINISTER'S WIFE and to say: "I shall comfort you?" he said to me afterwards. And the afflicted man sat listening to one story after another; they were all beautiful, for everything that Mrs. Senserff did for the people was noble. He listened to Schepers as if h"e were telling him beautiful stories from a book, and that book was his book. At last the evening fell and they sat there until it was quite dark in the room; the two men had not noticed it. When the maid came in with a light Schepers said: 'No, no, girl, not yet; I will tell you when you can bring it,' just as if he were master in the house. And th'en, man, in the dark he prayed with his minister, on his knees. He did not say that lie did it; but the maid heard it; and since tKat day the maid does not dare to look at Schepers when she sees him coming. But it was grand, manf I can tell you that. And a great peace came over the minister, a great peace; and the whole parish saw it in the cemetery; you know that as well as I do." The strange part of it was, that ever since that day Schepers was more humble than ever with the minister. He was as one who has braced himself up to do a thing that he ought not to have done to one who was greater [DYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 133 than he; as one who has done wrong and would never iget over the fact. Such was the elder's behaviour in the parish from that day. Yes, it was quite true ; the minister's wife had been buried. How could any one doubt it! And how could they say then that she was still there, always there? The second one who had come to Senserff, after Schepers, was the minister of the Reformed Church, Walter. Many eyes had peeped from behind the curtains when the people in the village street had seen Him go. There had been much conversation on this subject the day before. "I am sure your minister will no? go," the verger of Senserff's church said to the old widow of the baker of the Reformed Church: "the strife between the two Churches fs in the way." "And I tell you that he will go," she ans- wered. "You do not know our minister; you do not know what is in his heart; it is warmer than many a heart that I know." And the same discussion took place between all the people who spoke to each other. And when Walter came out of his house and pulled his front door to and went up the street 134 THE MINISTER'S WIFE towards the other vicarage, many inquisitive faces appeared at the windows behind the curtains; the minister felt it. And as soon as he was standing on Senserff 's doorstep all the faces disappeared from the windows; every one had gone out by the back door to tell each other what every one knew, that Walter had gone to Senserff; the minister felt it. No one ever heard what took place between these two. Walter did not tell any one, and neither did Senserff. But every one noticed that after that day Senserff would never allow any man to talk evil of Walter. In former days Senserff himself had often called him Synodus by way of a joke, but that name never again passed his lips. After that, it was often seen that when the two ministers met each other in the village or outside in the fields, they walked part of the way thogether, and once they had been seen sitting for an hour in the shade of the big oak tree by the side of the stream. "I wonder if the Dissenters are at last be- ginning to know the heart of our minister?" the old widow of the baker said to herself. And also it was seen that after that many a Dissenter took off his cap to Walter. IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 135 So she had been buried. No one could doubt it. How could they say then that she was still there, always there ? And there was yet another proof. On the outskirts of the village, on the south side, was a wood, a pine wood. And there was the new churchyard of the Dissenting community. When the separation between the two Churches had become a fact, the Dissenters had thought it necessary to have their own bury ing-ground. It was not necessary, of course not. They could bury their dead in the general cemetery quite as well. But Senserff had objections to that burying ground. He had permitted his men to found a new one. It seemed so cold, the other; a great open space, and in the middle of it the graves; there was not a tree on it, and not a tree anywhere near; nothing but fields, where the cattle grazed, on all four sides. Everything in and about the village was full of poetry; only the dead had to do without poetry! Senserff was also annoyed about the difference in rank in that churchyard. It was separated into three divisions, one part for 136 THE MINISTER'S WIFE the poor, those who had been kept by the parish during their life-time; another part for the very rich"; and a part for those who did not belong to either of those two classes. It all depended upon how much the relations could afford to pay. This was a great advantage to the village-treasury. It annoyed him; must the people even in their graves be divided by what is called money? And so in those days he had induced his Churchwardens to give the Dissenters a bury ing-ground of their own. They had cut down many trees in the wood on the Southside, and they had built a wall round that open space. And there, surrounded by the eternal pine trees, sheltered from the North wind, the 'dead of his parish might rest. And any one looking at the wood, would not have imagined that there was a churchyard there. The stipulation had been made that all the graves should be equal and free of cost; the parish had undertaken to bear the cost of the laying out and maintenance. Since then two children had been buried there. The minister's wife was the third. There where a thick, hundred year old pine bent its heavy branches over the wall, and where IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 137 winter and summer the pine needles sighed, there she was put to rest, A stone cross with her name, and nothing else. The whole parish had been present; it will be spoken of years hence. Men from Gueldres, and great men from the Hague had been present, but all had been very simple. TKere had not even been a burial-repast in the vicarage. So she had been buried. But how could they say then that she was still there, always there ? No one had ever known such a strange thing- before. She was hot there and she was there; only the one feeling was sometimes stronger than the other; that depended on circumstances. But when sometimes the sen- sation that she was gone was very real, a great sadness came over the parish, as if the loss could not be repaired even by the presence of both ministers. There were some who thought that this grief would pass away some day, if in time a new minister's wife should come to the parish. But those wKo knew Senserff, as Schepers knew him, said that if this were the only means to lighten the people's grief no one should count on it, Senserff was not the man who 138 THE MINISTER'S WIFE was likely to marry a second time. For it was with him as it was with the whole parish; his wife was always there still, always there, although she had been buried! And one of tEose who grieved most was Wiegen, the Dreamier. The one thought which wap always in his mind was this: "I have lost the best member of my invisible Church!" THE GREAT DROUGHT The inhabitants of Eastloorn will never cease talking about the great drought which prevailed two years after the Dissension broke out. The drought started quite early in spring. In the beginning no one took any notice of it, for who could possibly know that it would be a far worse drought than the oldest people in the village could remember? True, in the month of March the farmers were astonished to find the roads outside the village were much better than they usually were at that time of the year. Also, they had thought it curious that the winter had passed without any snow or rain. But who could know that this was trie sign of the great drought which was to come? When they began to think of ploughing, and fetched th'e plough out of the barn, they noticed that tne blade did not look at all rusty, 140 THE GREAT DROUGHT and was almost as shining as when they ploughed the land last. Neither was there any mould on the leather of the harness; it did not even require to be wiped. And another thing, which rarely occurs in spring, was that in ploughing the dust flew up in all directions, so that it made the horses cough. The ploughman came home black with dust; it made the village girls laugh to see his face, to which dust and perspiration had given this colour. Had they known about the great drought they would not have laughed I Another strange thing was that no birds followed the plough. Other years the gulls, the white gulls, swarmed about the man and his horses; and they snapped up the worms and the larvae which were thrown up by the blade in the furrows. They fought for them, shrieking and flapping with their wings; they forgot to be frightened, and in their hunger came down quite close to the ploughman's feet, so that he could have caught them in his hand But where were the gulls this year ? They were not to be found on a single field. Did the gulls know about the drought already, and was that why they flew to other fields, far away by the sea? The farmers had not seen them on the IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 141 meadows, either; and that was strange, too. The river which intersected the meadows was so low in February tKat the usual flood had not taken place this year. The meadows had not derived any advantage from it. The owners of the land were disappointed at this, as they were at a loss to know how the grass would be fit for mowing, when it lacked the beneficial effect produced by the annual flood. The ice had disappeared this year without drifting. First it had given way in the middle with great rents, and then had melted entirely. One fine morning there was not a trace of it left as far as the eye could' reach down the river. The Polder Committee had not found it necessary to repair the dykes. The miller, whose duty it was to clear the meadows of the remaining water, h'ad found that his services were not required this year. His mill had not been in motion for a wKole month, and the villagers had seen him peram- bulating the village daily, with his hands in his pockets, talking to any one who had the patience to listen to him. Over the whole expanse of the meadows not a bird was to be seen. Such a thing had never been known to happen. The plover had not 142 THE GREAT DROUGHT put in an appearance, and the village boys did not go out on Sundays in search of eggs, as they had done in former years. "The cattle," the farmers said subsequently, "knew what was about to take place before we men did." Their belief in the understanding of animals was not a little increased by their indication of restlessness. And so the drought had begun, quite early in spring. When April came, the first flowers in the little village gardens were long in coming out. Why were the flowers so slow? Did they also know that the drought was coming? As a rule, the crocusses in the notary's garden attracted a crowd of admiring farmers' wives on Sundays after church, but this year they were quite small and sHrivelled up, so that the women only lingered for a moment at the gate, wondering why the notary had given up his hobby. For many years his crocusses had been larger than those in any other garden in the village. Perhaps it was because his wife had died that winter, and that he had lost his interest in flowers. How could the farmers' wives know about the drought which was coming? IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 143 The snowdrops had not flowered at all. The wild anemones in the wood had not flowered either, and the children had not been able to gather large bunches of them, as they walked to school through the wood coming from the distant farms. They usually gave the flowers to the people of the house where they ate their midday meal. There were no new shoots on the wild rose-trees, and the mayor's gardener, who made a great study of grafting, knew that it would not be possible this year. But the gardener did not know that this was a sign of the coming drought. WHo could suppose that the wild rosetree would know such things before the gardener, and was more sensible than he, and did not risk its new shoots, knowing only too well that they would surely die before the end of summer? The tall ferns, growing on the banks of the ditches, did not awaken from their winter sleep. Last year's brown and crumpled leaves were not replaced by any new and fresh ones. Why di'd the new ferns not unfold their leaves ? The ferns which grew up against the old trees and in the hollow of the willow did not do well either. Only the thistle was not influenced by any bad omens. It spread out its prickly leaves 144 THE GREAT DROUGHT on all the fields. Thistles grew on the meadows as if the farmers had forgotten to weed them the year before. TKe dyke was covered with them from top to bottom. The servants and children were sent to the fields and meadows in great numbers, but it was of no avail; they pulled them out with long wooden pincers and laid them in great heaps in a corner of the field and burned them, but it was no good. The number of thistles remaining was always greater than those that had been taken away. All the thistle seed of former years seemed to have waited for this summer to come up. And the animals and plants knew, but the people dfd not, tha,t this was to be the year of the great drought. Only when May came, then one or two people thought such a thing might be possible. One of these was Sander, the deacon, whose fields lay very high", at the side of the village, where the woods covered the slopes of the hills. His winter corn was only a few inchesl above the ground, and the corn told him, wfhen he was walking past early one morning: "I am not going to grow any more this year. WKy should I ? Everything is going to die in any IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 14$ case. If you reason at all, you will see that I am right. What would be the good of allowing; the ears to shoot up; they would only shrivel without having any com. Do you imagine it is pleasant to do work for nothing?" And the farmer had scratched his head thoughtfully, and looked at the corn. "Certainly," it went on, "just look; it is four o'clock in the morning, and can you find a drop of dew on any of my stalks ? I am not even talking about rain; I mean dew. Other years we were wet with dew all night long; it came from the river over there; it enveloped the village and ascended higher and higher until it reached these fields; and then we would say to each other: It is coming, it is coming!* and we swayed to and fro, so that even the smallest blades were covered with white dew. Then it went higher up to the pines ; so that the pine-needles were quite heavy with dew, a drop on every needle. And when the hares came we laughed, because we made them wet, so that they could only get dry in the afternoon, when they went to lie in the sand on the hill, in the sun. Have you never seen the hares there? That was our fault, we made them so wet!" And the farmer stood still and listened 146 THE GREAT DROUGHT intently ; he forget to walk on ; His feet seemed nailed to the ground. "But tell me," the low corn continued, "tell me, what is the matter with the river? Why does it not send up any mist in the evenings? Why does the dew not come? We are small and cannot see across the village; but is there any dew on the lowlands? Is the corn any higher there? Are the young stalks there also yellow before their time, as we are?" And the farmer answered. He did not know that he was answering and talking with his fields. He told them that it was not much better there, and that the dew did not come there either. He talked aloud as ; some one doeS who tells a sad story to others who do not know it yet; arid he talked for a long time. He did it without thinking, so that Bins, the labourer, coming down the road, called out to him and asked Him to whom he was talking. Bins always laughed when no one else did, and few people liked him. And the farmer felt ashamed that any one had heard him talking with his corn as if he were talking with a friend; and that any one ha,d seen him standing there, as he had IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 147 done for a considerable time, with his feet nailed to the ground. And there were others too, who began to understand it. Iken was one ot them; his buckwheat fields were situated to the East of the village, on the moorland. He had waited until there were no more night frosts, for it was not advisable to sow the buckwheat before those were over; one night frost might be sufficient to destroy all. And when that danger was past he had said to this son, Kassens, "We must set fire to the heath, my boy. It is time for the buckwheat." And then he and the other farmers who cultivated buckwheat had commenced burning the heath, anoTthe east wiihd Jiad carried clouds of smoke to the village, and it lasted' for days, so that the air in the streets and the houses was stifling. But no one in Eastloorn thought of grumbling about the smoke; it was an annual event in the village. They had heard it said that the people far away in Holland, for the smoke reached even there, disliked it very much, but they could not understand that. There was a shadow over 148 THE GREAT DROUGHT all the land, and the sun shone through masses of grey clouds. And after the burning of the peat-moor, when the soil had cooled down, Iken had started sowing his buckwheat. It was all as in former years. "Now for some rain, my boy !" he had' said to Kassens; "if only the rain comes if will be all rfght." But the rain did not come. One week passed, two weeks, three weeks; aot a sign of rain. There was no change in the field. And sometimes when he was walking there with his son Kassens, he would stoop and pick up a handful of earth and let the sand run through his fingers, so that he could examine the buckwheat seed by pinching a few grains between his nails. "The seed is burned, father," Kassens said; "it has had too much sun." The man did not answer, but he T^egan to understand that which the plants and animals had understood long ago; he looked towards the West and to the South, and gazed at the horizon with piercing eyes, as if he would have liked to command the clouds to appear above the horizon; but there were no clouds. IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 149 And there were others who began to understand. The farmer's wife understood, when she found that there was less milk to churn 1 every morning. When the milkmaid came back from the meadows she noticed that there was always less milk in the pails than the day before. A little later only one pail was required, and the time came that even the one pail was only half filled. The farmer's wife wondered .whether it was worth while to churn at all? The butcher, the village Jew, also under- stood it. For the farmers offered him all their calves, all of them. He bought far more than he required, and even more than he could sell to other butchers in town who bought the calves from him. "There is no grass, not even enough for the cattle," he said to his wife, "and now they are having to sell all their calves. They will be poor, Sarah. You must be thrifty too; be thrifty, Sarah I" "But why should we be thrifty, now that you are earning so much money on account of the cheap cattle?" she enquired. "Sarah, be thrifty," he answered, without explanation; "you will see when winter comes why we shall want that money." 1 50 THE GREAT DROUGHT The notary also understood It when the farmers came again and again, asking him for a loan. Tfiis occurred far oftener than in former years. "That is because they are not doing any business on the market; I heard that at Steenwijk last week there were only three farmers, and that the market-place was as empty as on any ordinary day;" he thought. "I must consider," his thoughts ran on, "whether I can go on giving them these advances. It will be much worse before we are done, and how can I be certain that I shall get my money back?" It seemed hard when, in talking to the men, he hinted at higher interest; but he never refused them a loan. The postmaster also began to understand, for there were very few who added to their deposit in the postoffice savings-bank, and there were many who took away their savings. He had calculated exactly how much the small farmers had saved during the past year, and the calculation had made him quite cheerful. But he could also calculate now exactly how much the small farmers had taken away this year, and the knowledge gave him a sad peep into the future. IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 151 Every one began to understand it; their eyes were opened. At first they were very cautious in talking" about it; very careful, as people are who have a presentiment but hope that they are mistaken ; as people who do not consider it well-bred to complain just in the beginning, for it was only June yet. They were very cautious, as if they thought; "I myself feel uneasy about the rain not coming, but what is the good of frightening another person who is not alarmed yet?" In the beginning they only hinted. Some one would say: "Do you remember, Vossens, how high the winter corn was last year at this time?" Or, "What a mist there always was in February, and what a lot of dew on the river in May." Or, "I thought the wind was changing to the West yesterday." But no more. No one complained. It was a long time before the villagers actually put their thoughts into words. A long time. It was the minister, Walter, who was the first to say it straight out, on a Sunday after the sermon. The minister had not been bora and bred in Eastlbprn either; he came from 152 THE GREAT DROUGHT Gueldres. "Is the rain coming Boon, do you think?" he had said bluntly to his churchwar- dens; and it had frightened them. "This drought has lasted for three months now; what .will happen?" The churchwardens were still more alarmed. But the ice had been broken. All the people in the village began to talk about it now, for what is the good of hiding one's thoughts when every one else is thinking the same? Only now did it come out how much cause for anxiety there was. It was much worse than any one had imagined. "It is the middle of July now," Schepers said one evening on the Square. "It can all come right yet; but the heath is so dry that the sheep canno;t find a morsel to eat. I am having them taken to the marsh; there is some green food there, but very little to drink. You know that in former years I could scarcely reach the bottom of the water with my long staff, but now the sheep walk right through the marsh! I have looked after the sheep for fifty years, but I have never known such a thing before!" And so every one had his own tale to tell. Niesink, the bee-farmer, related how he had IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 153 gone to see his servant was attending to. the beehives. Of the five hundred hives, there was not one with fresh honey. The bees could not find any flowers ; there were none on the linden trees when it was time for them to flower; and the heath was quite black, and would not be purple and red that year, And other farmers said that their grass was burnt even down by the river; there was not much hay left from the year before; what were they to do when that was finished too? They were feeding the animals with it in the mean time. The fisherman, who fished where the river was wide, said that he had not caught a roach or a perch for three months; eels had been the last fish he had caught. He did not even go to the mayor's wife any more to tell her; for she knew quite well that there was no more fish to be had. Heister, the bridge man, related that the boys went under the bridge instead of walking over it. Every one knew that the water was ten feet deep in winter, and in summer, at this time, five feet. A scow loaded with turf could pass easily winter and summer; but now the boys ran about fn the almost dry bed, looking for round stones for their slings. He 154 THE GREAT DROUGHT had asked the mayor for permission to stay at home. What was the good of standing there all day at the bridge for nothing; every one laughed at him. But the mayor had asked him if he knew for certain that he would not be wanted on the next day? There was a sense of relief in the village when, by general tacit consent, every one might talk about it. That sense of relief lasted for a few days. But how could it go on? Everything that could be said had been said. There were few people in the Square in the evenings. And then another thing came to disturb the minds of the people: it was fear. Fear. It had come at last. Hope had always up to now kept him at bay; but now Hope had gone, and Fear had come instead. He had come from the East, across the distant pine trees; nearer and nearer, over the moor and over the fields, and across the bridge: across the street, until he reached the Square If only he had had a shape, even a phantom IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 155 shape, it would have been less awful. But he had no shape. Fear sat in the air above the heads of the people as a great, invisible bird of prey, who flapped his wings, peering down, and pointing his sharp beak at the village; but if the people looked up, they could not see the bird. And if they looked down again they had a feeling as if the bird were hovering above them still. And in the evening Fear sat beside the pump in the middle of the Square. Hitherto the women used to like coming out there in the evening and in the afternoon; they talked and were never in a hurry; but now they were afraid, afraid to come near the pump; he was there! One day, Jane, who was in the service of Wendel, the man who had the deepest well in all the village, had been forced to let the pafl down on the iron chain as far as it would go, and, after she had counted thirty, she had pulled the pail up, but there was no water in it. The women did not dare to come near the pump ; he was there, the invisible one. No one had seen him, and no one could say what he looked like, or what clothes he was wearing; but he was there; and there were no women and no children 156 THE GREAT DROUGHT to be found in the Square in the evenings. A pail was lying on the ground; who had left it there? Fear looked into the houses, through the windows, in the middle of the day; who dared to peep through the curtains and cast h'S eyes over the street? He went round by the back way, though the stable door, and sat crouching under the manger; but no servant could tell what shape he had. He sat in the room by the fire; who had placed a chafr for Him? The women scarcely dared to rake up the ashes on the hearth or to hang up the kettle. He walked along the road beside the people, so that they were afraid to carry on a con- versation; he listened to everything. He walked to church with the people, went inside, had his own seat, so that they dared not look up for fear they should catch sight of him. He wandered about the meadows and in the fields, so that the fanners were afraid to go and see them; he sat in the coppice, so that the wood-cutter turned aside where he had never known fear before. He thought it would be tne death of him, if he should see the phantom shape. IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 157 He was by the river, in the buckwheat fields and in the pine- woods. Fear was everywhere. And thfs invisible being made the people silent, so that they went about with bent heads, almost shunning each other. And if they happened to look at each other, they were still more alarmed, for they saw Fear in each other's eyes. There was Fear fn every one's eyes. There was also the dread of fire. The east wind and the sun had made the roofs of the houses so dry that the moss and the moly had withered; such a thing had never been seen before. The straw on the roofs was so brittle that it broke at the slightest touch. The smallest act of imprudence might be the cause of fire, and if one house should catch fire there was little chance of the other* being saved. There would be no question of extinguishing the fire if it broke out, for there was no water, and there would not be much left of the village. The mayor had given orders for the people to have iron hooks in readiness, so that, if a house should catch fire, it could at least be pulled down before the house next door was in flames. 158 THE GREAT DROUGHT There had been a small fire in the land- owner's pinewoods; no one ever heard how it came about: but it was touch and go that the whole wood was not burned down. The dread of fire made the farmer run after his wife when she went to the outhouse for sticks for the hearth, and made him follow her when she went back to the room to lay the fire for cooking the dinner. The dread of fire made the farmer furious when he saw one of his servants walking about the farm with a burning pipe in his mouth; it was as much as his place was worth. There was also the dread of poverty. It was only July, but the fear of poverty, which usually only came towards winter, was there already. When the deacons met they saw quite clearly how matters would stand in winter, and so they took steps to economise as much as possible. But how could they economise when already there was so much poverty? Kieft, a man who had never yet received parochial relief had come to the meeting of the deacons and had stood by the door, cap in hand, until the deacons told him to come nearer; and then he had stood with his eyes IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 159 fixed on the ground, as one who is about to commit a crime, and the deacons had' told him it was not necessary to say anything, for they knew all about ft. He did not need to feel ashamed either, for who could say that the deacons themselves would not be in the same predicament that year? That had com* forled Kieft and it seemed as if a weight of shame had been lifted from him by the kindness of these men. But that was only the beginning of the poverty. No one else had come after Kieft; but the deacons understood that they must go uninvited to some houses and give, for who else would bear the humiliation, as Kieft had done? So the deacons gave away when they should have been economising. They were encouraged to do this by the Jew. "What made him interfere?" they wondered. "Go on giving," he had said: "go on giving; when the cash-box is empty there will surely be some more money;" and, in saying this, he had smiled so knowingly that the brethren saw througjh him. For the Jew had come out well in a former time of want. He had taken the trouble to send them' a gift via Amsterdam, so that it might appear to 160 THE GREAT DROUGHT be sent by a stranger. They had never dared to tell 'him that they guessed him to be the anonymous donor, for ft might have looked as if they were ill-bred enough to wish to sound him; but they guessed it was he! "Save, save," all the men said to their wives in those days. And a sign of their thrift was that very few men ever entered the public house; it was seen in the simple fare, even more simple than it used to be; they tried to save in order to avoid the toll-duty, by walking to market; and by economising in a thousand other little things, devised by the dread of poverty. And in their fear the people talked to each other when they walked home from church; they talked about the sermon only in connection with the coming distress. If there had been an allusion to it in the sermon, it was quoted and dfscussed on the walk home ; but they went about and talked as people walking in their sleep. When three or four people met at the bridge they would put their heads together, but in vain; four people were no wiser than one alone. Then a suggestion was made to hold a day of prayer. IDYLLS OF A DUTCH VILLAGE 161 Who had been the first to think of it? No one knew. They had discussed it on the Square. They had talked about it in Sieds* public house; they had talked about it in the parish council before the meeting commenced. Who could say who was the 'first to suggest it? But one day something occurred which filled the members of the Reformed Church with a great respect for their minister. They had seen Walter come out of his house and go straight to Senserff's vicarage; they saw him ring the bell and go in. And when they saw him come out again, they would have liked to know what he had spoken about. But on the next Sunday the whole community knew, for it was announced from both pulpits, with consent of the respective churchwardens, that on the following Wednesday a day of prayer would be held by all the people, and that there would be a service in eiach church. "All honour is due to our minister for being the first to go to the other one," the members of the Reformed Church said, and the Dissenters regretted a little that their minister ha