“The same to you, my little angels,” he would answer; “but come no nearer, lest perchance I turn you into blackamoors.”
But the children were bold, and oftentimes would make the venture. Then Claes would seize one of them by the doublet, and rubbing his blackened hands up and down the little fellow’s nose, would send him off all sooty, but laughing just the same, to the huge delight of the others.
Claes and Soetkin
Soetkin, wife of Claes, was a good wife and mother. She was up with the dawn, and worked as diligently as any ant. She and Claes laboured together in the field, yoking themselves to the plough as though they had been oxen. It was hard work dragging it along, but even the plough was not so heavy as the harrow, that rustic implement whose task it was to tear up the hardened earth with teeth of wood. But Claes and his wife worked always with a gay heart, and enlivened themselves with singing. And in vain was the earth hard, in vain did the sun hurl down on them his hottest beams, in vain were their knees stiffened with bending and their loins tired with the cruel effort of dragging the harrow along, for they had only to stop a moment while Soetkin turned to Claes her gentle face, and while Claes kissed that mirror of a gentle heart, and straightway they forgot how tired they were.
V
Now the previous day, the town crier had given notice from before the Town Hall that Madame, the wife of the Emperor Charles, being near the time of her delivery, it behoved the people to say prayers on her behalf.
Katheline came to Claes in a great state of excitement.
“Whatever is the matter, my good woman?” he asked.