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； and he had a wife as cross as Xantippe。〃
〃They balanced each other finely；〃 said Ludwig。 〃He was kind and she was cross。 But； Peter； before I forget it； wasn't that picture of Saint Hubert and the horse painted by Wouwerman？ You remember； Father showed us an engraving from it last night。〃
〃Yes； indeed。 There is a story connected with that picture。〃
〃Tell us！〃 cried two or three； drawing closer to Peter as they skated on。
〃Wouwerman；〃 began the captain oratorically； 〃was born in 1620； just four years before Berghem。 He was a master of his art and especially excelled in painting horses。 Strange as it may seem； people were so long finding out his merits that； even after he had arrived at the height of his excellence； he was obliged to sell his pictures for very paltry prices。 The poor artist became completely discouraged； and； worst of all； was over head and ears in debt。 ne day he was talking over his troubles with his father…confessor； who was one of the few who recognized his genius。 The priest determined to assist him and accordingly lent him six hundred guilders； advising him at the same time to demand a better price for his pictures。 Wouwerman did so； and in the meantime paid his debts。 Matters brightened with him at once。 Everybody appreciated the great artist who painted such costly pictures。 He grew rich。 The six hundred guilders were returned； and in gratitude Wouwerman sent also a work which he had painted； representing his benefactor as Saint Hubert kneeling before his horsethe very picture； Ludwig； of which we were speaking last night。〃
〃So！ so！〃 exclaimed Ludwig； with deep interest。 〃I must take another look at the engraving as soon as we get home。〃
At that same hour； while Ben was skating with his companions beside the Holland dike； Robby and Jenny stood in their pretty English schoolhouse； ready to join in the duties of their reading class。
〃Commence！ Master Robert Dobbs；〃 said the teacher； 〃page 242。 Now； sir； mind every stop。〃
And Robby； in a quick childish voice； roared forth at schoolroom pitch； 〃Lesson 62。 The Hero of Haarlem。 Many years ago； there lived in Haarlem； one of the principal cities of Holland； a sunny…haired boy of gentle disposition。 His father was a sluicer； that is； a man whose business it was to open and close the sluices； or large oaken gates； that are placed at regular distances across the entrances of the canals； to regulate the amount of water that shall flow into them。
〃The sluicer raises the gates more or less according to the quantity of water required； and closes them carefully at night； in order to avoid all possible danger of an oversupply running into the canal； or the water would soon overflow it and inundate the surrounding country。 As a great portion of Holland is lower than the level of the sea； the waters are kept from flooding the land only by means of strong dikes； or barriers； and by means of these sluices； which are often strained to the utmost by the pressure of the rising tides。 Even the little children in Holland know that constant watchfulness is required to keep the rivers and ocean from overwhelming the country； and that a moment's neglect of the sluicer's duty may bring ruin and death to all。〃
〃Very good；〃 said the teacher。 〃Now； Susan。〃
〃One lovely autumn afternoon； when the boy was about eight years old； he obtained his parents' consent to carry some cakes to a blind man who lived out in the country； on the other side of the dike。 The little fellow started on his errand with a light heart； and having spent an hour with his grateful old friend； he bade him farewell and started on his homeward walk。
〃Trudging stoutly along the canal； he noticed how the autumn rains had swollen the waters。 Even while humming his careless； childish song； he thought of his father's brave old gates and felt glad of their strength； for； thought he； 'If THEY gave way； where would Father and Mother be？ These pretty fields would all be covered with the angry watersFather always calls them the ANGRY waters。 I suppose he thinks they are mad at him for keeping them out so long。' And with these thoughts just flitting across his brain； the little fellow stooped to pick the pretty flowers that grew along his way。 Sometimes he stopped to throw some feathery seed ball in the air and watch it as it floated away； sometimes he listened to the stealthy rustling of a rabbit； speeding through the grass； but oftener he smiled as he recalled the happy light he had seen arise on the weary； listening face of his blind old friend。〃
〃Now； Henry；〃 said the teacher； nodding to the next little reader。
〃Suddenly the boy looked around him in dismay。 He had not noticed that the sun was setting。 Now he saw that his long shadow on the grass had vanished。 It was growing dark； he was still some distance from home； and in a lonely ravine； where even the blue flowers had turned to gray。 He quickened his footsteps and； with a beating heart recalled many a nursery tale of children belated in dreary forests。 Just as he was bracing himself for a run； he was startled by the sound of trickling water。 Whence did it come？ He looked up and saw a small hole in the dike through which a tiny stream was flowing。 Any child in Holland will shudder at the thought of A LEAK IN THE DIKE！ The boy understood the danger at a glance。 That little hole； if the water were allowed to trickle through； would soon be a large one； and a terrible inundation would be the result。
〃Quick as a flash； he saw his duty。 Throwing away his flowers； the boy clambered up the heights until he reached the hole。 His chubby little finger was thrust in； almost before he knew it。 The flowing was stopped！ Ah！ he thought； with a chuckle of boyish delight； the angry waters must stay back now！ Haarlem shall not be drowned while I am here！
〃This was all very well at first； but the night was falling rapidly。 Chill vapors filled the air。 Our little hero began to tremble with cold and dread。 He shouted loudly； he screamed； 'Come here！ come here！' but no one came。 The cold grew more intense； a numbness； commencing in the tired little finger； crept over his hand and arm； and soon his whole body was filled with pain。 He shouted again； 'Will no one come？ Mother！ Mother！' Alas； his mother； good； practical soul； had already locked the doors and had fully resolved to scold him on the morrow for spending the night with blind Jansen without her permission。 He tried to whistle。 Perhaps some straggling boy might heed the signal； but his teeth chattered so； it was impossible。 Then he called on God for help。 And the answer came； through a holy resolution： 'I will stay here till morning。'〃
〃Now； Jenny Dobbs；〃 said the teacher。 Jenny's eyes were glistening； but she took a long breath and commenced。
〃The midnight moon looked down upon that small； solitary form； sitting upon a stone； halfway up the dike。 His head was bent but he was not asleep； for every now and then one restless hand rubbed feebly the outstretched arm that seemed fastened to the dikeand often the pale； tearful face turned quickly at some real or fancied sounds。
〃How can we know the sufferings of that long and fea