LITMIR.BIZ

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I read, when I was a boy," continued Rollo, "that the women skate to market in Holland."

      Rollo here observed that his mother was endeavoring to suppress a smile. She seemed to try very hard, but she could not succeed in keeping perfectly sober.

      "What are you laughing at, mother?" asked Rollo.

      Here Mrs. Holiday could no longer restrain herself, but laughed outright.

      "Is it about the Dutch women skating to market?" asked Rollo.

      "I think they must look quite funny, at any rate," said Mrs. Holiday.

      What Mrs. Holiday was really laughing at was to hear Rollo talk about "when he was a boy." But the fact was, that Rollo had now travelled about so much, and taken care of himself in so many exigencies, that he began to feel quite like a man. And indeed I do not think it at all surprising that he felt so.

      "Which would you do, mother," said Rollo, "if you were I? Would you rather go in the summer or in the winter?"

      "I would ask uncle George," said Mrs. Holiday.

      So Rollo went to find his uncle George.

      Rollo was at this time at Morley's Hotel, in London, and he expected to find his uncle George in what is called the coffee room. The coffee room in Morley's Hotel is a very pleasant place. It fronts on one side upon a very busy and brilliant street, and on another upon a large open square, adorned with monuments and fountains. On the side towards the square is a bay window, and near this bay window were two or three small tables, with gentlemen sitting at them, engaged in writing. There were other tables along the sides of the room and at the other windows, where gentlemen were taking breakfast. Mr. George was at one of the tables near the bay window, and was busy writing.

      Rollo went to the place, and standing by Mr. George's side, he said in an under tone,– "Uncle George."

      Every body speaks in an under tone in an English coffee room. They do this in order not to interrupt the conversation, or the reading, or the writing of other gentlemen that may be in the room.

      "Wait a moment," said Mr. George, "till I finish this letter."

      So Rollo turned to the bay window and looked out, in order to amuse himself with what he might observe in the street, till his uncle George should be ready to talk with him.

      He saw the fountains in the square, and a great many children playing about the basins. He saw a poor boy at a crossing brushing the pavement industriously with an old broom, and then holding out his hand to the people passing by, in hopes that some of them would give him a halfpenny. He saw a policeman walking slowly up and down on the sidewalk, wearing a glazed hat, and a uniform of blue broadcloth, with his letter and number embroidered on the collar. He saw an elegant carriage drive by, with a postilion riding upon one of the horses, and two footmen in very splendid liveries behind. There was a lady in the carriage, but she appeared old, and though she was splendidly dressed, her face was very plain.

      "I wonder," said Rollo to himself, "how much she would give of her riches and finery if she could be as young and as pretty as my cousin Lucy."

      "Now, Rollo," said Mr. George, interrupting Rollo's reflections, "what is the question?"

      "Why, I want to know," said Rollo, "whether you think we had better go to Holland in the winter or in the summer."

      "Is it left to you to decide?" asked Mr. George.

      "Why, no," said Rollo, "not exactly. But mother asked me to consider which I thought was best, and so I want to know your opinion."

      "Very well," said Mr. George, "go on and argue the case. After I have heard it argued I will decide."

      Rollo then proceeded to explain to his uncle the advantages, respectively, of going in the summer and in the winter. After hearing him, Mr. George thought it would be decidedly better to go in the summer.

      "You see," said he, "that the only advantage of going in the winter is to see the skating. That is very important, I know. I should like to see the Dutch women skating to market myself, very much. But then, in the winter you could see very little of the canals, and the wind mills, and all the other hydraulic operations of the country. Every thing would be frozen up solid."

      "Father says that he can't go now very well," continued Rollo, "but that I may go with you if you would like to go."

      Mr. George was just in the act of sealing his letter as Rollo spoke these words; but he paused in the operation, holding the stick of sealing wax in one hand and the letter in the other, as if he was reflecting on what Rollo had said.

      "If we only had some one else to go with us," said Mr. George.

      "Should not we two be enough?" asked Rollo.

      "Why, you see," said Mr. George, "when we get into Holland we shall not understand one word of the language."

      "What language do they speak?" asked Rollo.

      "Dutch," said Mr. George, "and I do not know any Dutch."

      "Not a word?" asked Rollo.

      "No," said Mr. George, "not a word. Ah, yes! I know one word. I know that dampschiff means steamboat. Damp, I suppose, means steam."

      Then Rollo laughed outright. Dampskiff, he said, was the funniest name for steamboat that he ever heard.

      "Now, when we don't know a word of the language," added Mr. George, "we cannot have any communication with the people of the country, but shall be confined entirely to each other. Now, do you think that you could get along with having nobody but me to talk to you for a whole fortnight?"

      "Yes, indeed!" said Rollo. "But then, uncle George," he continued, "how are you going to get along at the hotels without knowing how to speak to the people at all?"

      "By signs and gestures," said Mr. George, laughing. "Could not you make a sign for something to eat?"

      "O, yes," said Rollo; and he immediately began to make believe eat, moving his hands as if he had a knife and fork in them.

      "And what sign would you make for going to bed?" asked Mr. George.

      Here Rollo laid his head down to one side, and placed his hand under it, as if it were a pillow, and then shut his eyes.

      "That is the sign for going to bed," said Rollo. "A deaf and dumb boy taught it to me."

      "I wish he had taught you some more signs," said Mr. George. "Or I wish we had a deaf and dumb boy here to go with us. Deaf and dumb people can get along excellently well where they do not understand the language, because they know how to make so many signs."

      "O, we can make up the signs as we go along," said Rollo.

      "Yes," said Mr. George. "I don't think that we shall have any great difficulty about that. But then it would be pleasanter to go in a little larger party. Two people are apt to get tired of each other, when there is nobody else that they can speak a single word to for a whole fortnight. I don't think that I should get tired of you. What I am afraid of is, that you would get tired of me."

      There was a lurking smile on Mr. George's face as he said this.

      "O, uncle George!" said Rollo, "that is only your politeness. But then if you really think that we ought to have some more company, perhaps the Parkmans are going to Holland, and we might go with them."

      "I would not make a journey with the Parkmans," said Mr. George, "if they would pay all my expenses, and give me five sovereigns a day."

      "Why, uncle George!" exclaimed Rollo; "I thought you liked Mr. Parkman very much."

      "So I do," said Mr. George. "It is his wife that I would not go with."

      "O, uncle George!" exclaimed Rollo again.

      Rollo was very much surprised at hearing this declaration; and it was very natural that he should be surprised, for Mrs. Parkman was a young and beautiful lady, and she was very kindhearted and very amiable in her disposition. Mr. Parkman, too, was very young. He had been one of Mr. George's college classmates. He had been married only a short time before he left America, and he was now making his bridal tour.

      Mr. George thought that

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