"At court, Dirk Volders. See what a fine present I have brought away." And he pointed out the new cart.
"Surely, you've been sharpening the coupon-scissors again, haven't you?"
"No, the nail-scissors, Dirk, and it's time to do it here."
Wherever Markus went, a troop of children followed him Without apparent reason, or any expectation of delicacies, always several children tagged untiringly after him, an hour at a time, clinging fast, with their dirty little hands, to a shred of his coat or a fold of his trousers. With earnest faces they listened to his words and watched his movements, quietly managing the while to usurp one another's place at the front. Whoever could catch hold of his coat held on. Wherever he went, the ragged, unwashed little ones, from under wagons and behind boxes, put in an appearance—trotting after, so as to be on hand. There was always a chance of his suddenly throwing himself down and telling a story to a dozen dirty little listeners. Their small mouths, all smeared and stained, were wide open with interest, and their hands, furnished with a bread-crust or an old doll, hung down motionless, as they listened in suspense. And no one had ever surprised Markus in a peevish or impatient word to his troublesome little admirers. Not one of the surly, scolding parents had ever been able to admit to a child that it was naughty enough for Markus, even, to send it away.
Johannes observed this with great admiration. At first it seemed to him wonderful—supernatural. A whimpering, naughty child became submissive, a troublesome one tractable, and rude, unmannerly, and passionate children went away composed and quiet. And how could any one remain patient under such a continual din, and tagged after by the dirtiest and the worst-behaved children in the world? But, listening and keenly scrutinizing, Johannes gradually came to understand the apparently incomprehensible. It was the power of the interest in them which performed the miracle. There was nothing concerning those neglected little waifs in which Markus did not evidence the keenest interest, and he gave it his fullest attention—sparing no trouble nor exertion. Thus the roving mind of the child was at the same time pacified and restrained, and reduced to a state favorable for guidance. But, however he himself might explain it, the parents who were unable to control their children maintained that Markus had something in his eyes, or in his fingers—a "magic," they called it—by which he ruled the children. And these convictions grew still more settled through the knowledge of the willing and blessed help he gave to the sick.
There prevailed among these people a great distrust of physicians, and the one grievance they had against Markus was that he too often (according to their views) referred the sick to the doctor and the hospital. "He can do it better himself," they thought. "He surely is afraid of getting into jail." Yet they begrudged the police the satisfaction of seeing him there. But they tried to induce Markus to help them in every illness—even that of a broken bone—without their having recourse to doctor or hospital. In cases where the sick body could do without the relief of costly attendance and technical apparatus, Markus did not refuse to help with his simple expedients. It was said that he was a healer, yet no one had ever seen or heard him pray beside a sick person. He sometimes sat for a long time, deep in thought, by the side of a sufferer who was restless, or in pain. He would lay his hand upon the head, or the affected part, or take the hand of the patient. This he would sometimes do hour after hour, and he seldom left without having reduced the pain and restlessness.
Johannes had already heard this related by Marjon, and now he also saw mothers bringing their crying infants to him for advice, and he gave eager attention to what Markus would say.
A baby screamed and wriggled like a worm, resisting vehemently, for it dreaded the light, and wanted to hide its affected eyes in the mother's arms. But Markus insisted on examining the poor little eyes. They were all stuck together with foulness, and were red and swollen.
Johannes expected nothing else than that Markus would anoint them and command them to open. But Markus said:
"That's a loathsome lot of stuff, mother. There is a good eye-clinic in Leyden. But there is also a good one here. Go to it soon—now—to-day."