Jufrow Van Steen

Southland Times, Issue 1148, 18 March 1890, Page 4

Jufrow Van Steen

Chapter 111. There had been times of great public commotion in Sippken. The Spaniards in their day had clattered over the high way, and Duke Alva had pasted a night in the old town boose in the marketplace; bat even these circumstances were not bo remarkable as to see a young and able-bodied man sitting on a milkingBtool in the meadow sketching one of Mynbeer van Steen'n cows. That any one should do anything but milk a cow was so absurd that the cow was apparently struck by it, for she paused in the chewing of her cad to contemplate the artist. In this she was joined by a small urchin sent to recover the milkingstool, followed by the dairymaid, a bosom wench in clogs, and on her head ft tight, white cap with gold ornaments dangling against her temples. • Quick, Peter, fetch the Jufrow,' she whispered m open-tnoothed wonder. The message reached Mistress Mettje thus : ' Quick, Jufrow ! something is happening to Bdgitta the cow in the meadow.' Mynheer wag just taking his afternoon nap when Mettje roused him : ( Father, come down to the meadow ; something has happened to our Brigitta,' And before he could ask a question she was gone. Mynheer yawned grievously, took down a rusty old sword, put on his cocked bat, and passed majestically through the kitchen garden to the meadow where danger threatened Brigitta the cow. 'What are yon doing to my cow,young man 'C he asked, heroically. . For the first time the villain looked up at sight of Mynheer and his drawn aword. ' Making a picture of her—if you don't mind.' •Picture of a cow? Bless my soul, what nonsense ! What'U you do with it, eh T ' Look at it, Mynheer' 'Look at the picture of a cow ! What for 1 You can't cook it or milk it.' 'Perhaps I might sell it.' 'Sell it ! Who'd bay a picture of a cow when be can buy a real one! Listen Mettje, sell a picture of a sow !' And here be laughed ,loud and long, while the artist turned hastily about and discovered thr«e hitherto unperceived critics— a small urchin, a fat servant, and the very sweetest young maid in the world, who gazed at him in the mo*t charming surprise. He had a glimpse of brown eyes and chestnut hair, all gold in the ripples, a silver gray gown dashed with blush-roses, a narrow black velvet about the white throat, and a full sleeve that showed the fairest round arm. To be laughed at in her presence was not to te borne. He sprang to his fret, kicked over the milkin&r-stool, clutched his sketch, and with a hasty 'Pardon my trespassing, Mynheer,' turned away just as Mynheer added, with renewed enjoyment : 'Mettje, paint a cow; sell a painted cow ! 0 Nicodemus de Kejser, what would you say to this ?' The artist of the cow turned to catch a last glimpse of young Mettje. He saw the dimple fade out of her cheek,and she sighed. ' Mettje ! Sippken ! Mynheer de Keyser, to be sure,' he thought, filled with wonder and resentment. 'Are yon Mynheer van Steenjf he asked with sudden interest. ' Truly. lam Hendrick van Sleen, Burgomeister of Sippken, young man. But I don't think you have done Brigitta any lasting 1 harm ; so do not be alarmed.' 'Then you must know old De Keyser of Rotterdam, ' I know the great Mynheer de Keyter, 1 be replied solemnly, resenting the familiarity of this painter of cows, 'May I ask who you are, sir V^ • Well, I — [ am his son's very— yes, ; . his very dearest friend.' 'A very unworthy young man be is, I have heard — Mettje, don't pull at my coat. Still he is aDe Keyser. As such he will be related to us some day through my daughter Mettje here, the promised wife of Mynheer de Keyser.' 1 he artist of the cow bowed low and Mettje blushed and dropped a shy courtesy, while the dairymaid admired this slim and limber young Mynheer. 'And what may your name be, young man?' 1 My name, Mynheer ? Oh yes, I — l quite fqrgot. It is Zachary Jansen of Rotterdam, at your service.' It appeared that Zachary Jansen had a letter of introduction to Mynheer from Lauren* De Keyser, and he brought it to him the very next day. • He is my best and dearest friend, and •ny kindness you may show to him you show to me,' the letter read. tiippken was a eleepy, prosperous Dutch town eddying about a grass"grown market-place where stood the town pump. The canal that flowed through Sippken to Rotterdam was bordered on each side by a neat row of linden trees and the tidiest of bouses, each with a different gable and all having green front doors and brass knockers. An occasional canal boat, pulled by a heavy, plodding horse, touched the stillness with a suggestion of life. A sybarite could yearn for no greater comfort than to sail un a trekschuit with its cosy cabin, lace curtains io the windows, plants on the sills, easy chairs on deck. and a faint line of smoke curling out of a chimney to promise culinary possibili ties. ' Haste hastens life,' Mynheer liked to s«f ; nevertheless as a rich Hutch m-r---chant he pet up 9 canal-boat of bis own with a big, phihmphic horse to trundle it down the stream, and so resigned himself to travel at the rate of a mile an hour and hoped it might not be tempting Divine Providence However, Mynheer had never dallied with the Fates farther than six miles beyond Sippken, On that occasion.well wrapped up, with a bottle of gin on the table, a pipe in his mouth, and a box ot hot charcoal under his feet, so had he travelled down the oanal all alone to Arndt. Having seen that the rest &f the world was a good deal like Sippken he returned and never again succumbed to wild yearnings for change; bnt it was owing to his heroic energy that he was unanimously cboaen Bur.omeister of Sippken in the face of no less a rival . than Nicholas de Groot. Chapter IV, Zaohsry Jansen wa« invited to visit jfyobew in ett«, w) old J.ejar

I went over to the ' Blue Elephant' to ' fetch his belongings. He returned with a varied collection, among them even a guitar tied with blue ribbons, which caused considerable consternation to the maid who did the chamber work ; even Mpttje was perplexed until Aunt Jetta explained. Out of the ashes of remembrance ohe produced a faint glow. • I once knew a ytfung Mynheer who played on juat such a thing under my window,' she sighed. ' What for V Mettje a«ked in surprise. ' To tell me, my dear child, that — ah — that be loved me.' ' Doe 6 playing on that always mean that a young Mynheer is in love ?' Mettje spoke with evident anxiet/. ' Yes, nearly always.' 'Why did he play outside of the window ? He might have taken cold.' 'He never did recover.' And Aunt Jetta sighed heavily. ' Of what, peor aunt ?' .'You ccc, child, your grandfather was deaf, a man of violent passion, sudden purpose, and he lived only fo is tulips. One night he thought he heard something move among them — 'Dear Aunt Jetta !' ' He turned the water-pot on them — on him. He was drenched — he died.' ' From 'the shock, Aunt Jetta, that night ?' ' Not quite.' Aunt Jetta heaved a pigh. ' h was thirty yeara after, but I always felt sure it was the cause of bis death.' Aud she dusted the guitar and felt a gentle interest in young Zachary. 'I wonder if anyone has played beofre BiUa's window ?' Mettje mused. Billa de Groot was her dearest friend and the most enterprising young person in Sippken. She had been to Rotterdam, from which she brought fashions that made Sippken gr.'an. One day a coffin-shaped box came by canal boat and was borne into the De Groot house. Immediately after awful saunds broke the stillness, so that worthy burghers in passing paused and shook their heads. It was said that' these sminis had a great deal to do with defeating Nicholas de Groot s heart desire to be Burgomeister of Sippken. Mynheer de Groot harl little fo say in his own house, and that saved him a great deal of exertion. He liked to smoke his long clay pipa, sit at the window and watch the canal boats pass, 'and he rejoiced to think that h« was n< t in one. Mynheer was not so grateful for what he had in life as tor what he avoided. Sometimes when he had the energy he wished some one wonld kindly marry Jufrow Billa and take her and her piano away, and just when it did etem to him as if no one would relieve him of Biila, the maid one afternoon ushered Mynheer van Steen into the sittin^room. 'What?' Mynheer De Groot murmurpd, * 'Yes,' said Menheer van Steen. Then there was a long pause during which BiUa's father took a short nap, from which be was aroused by these extraordinary wordß : 'Will you bestow on me the hand of Jufrow Billa ? I shall be very lonely if ever Mettje gets married.' 'Do you mean it ?' Mynheer de Groot asked tremulously. Mynheer van Steen to marry Billa — and the piano. ' ' My dear friend, my dearest friend, take her, and God bless you ;' and he spoke hurriedly for the first time in his life. Then it occurred to them to notify Billa of her good fortune. The piano was still sounding overhead. The two old gentlemen shuddered at jthe harmonies, and Mynkeer gazed at the bold suitor with a wan smile. ' Don't be alarmed. I have no fear. We will change all that. The late Mevrouw van Steen obeyed me like a — a lamb. Mynheer de Groot vanished, the piano stopped with a crash, bat in hardly more than a moment he reappeared, quivering, undone ; even his lower lip trembled, ' What ails you ? Where is your daughter V *My dear, dear friend.' Here he dropped into the nearest chair and groaned. 1 What — speak out.' « It — it — cannot be.' ' What are you talking about V 1 Billa — dear God in heaven, that I should have to say it ! Billa — willnot.' What, he, Hendrik van Steen, jilted, tossed aside by a fool of a girl !' Mynheer spoke never a word more, but he seized his cocked hat and oane, slummed the door behind him and vowed vengeance, and the first thing he did was to be elected Bnrgomeister of Sippken in opposition to Nicholas de Groot, (To be Continued,")