"And what becomes of the horse?" inquired Gertrude's maid. "We changed horse but lately."
"My grandson there rides him forward through the fields to a point where the towing-path grows wide enough for him again," said the old woman; "and the boy lightens my way home, when the boat is on its course again."
"You talk," said Gertrude, "of taking your pleasure. Is it pleasure to lean over this bridge at noon time?"
"It is a pleasure, young mistress, to look abroad and see how Providence has blest our land above every other. I venture to say something to our pastor in return for all that he says to us. I tell him that, though he has lost his country for his religion's sake, he has gained a better, besides his heavenly reward. Our pastor came from France during the persecution."
"And does he like this country better than France?"
No doubt, the old woman supposed. In France, she was credibly informed, more than one cow had died of drought, during the last hot season, when heaven blessed Holland with water enough for the purposes of all Europe, if some of it had not been putrid. In certain parts of France, such a thing as an eel was never seen; and there was a false religion there, which showed that the curse of God was on the country. The very children were quite unlike the Dutch children. They would dance and shout under the chestnut trees, and laugh loud enough to be heard far off, instead of giving their hearts to God, and using their hands in the service of their parents, like the little people who were at work so soberly in yonder bleaching ground.
"You point out to your grand-children," said Gertrude, "the blessings you are yourself so sensible of?"
"The pastor teaches them to give praise for the pure gospel," replied the old woman; "and I bring them out to show them the gifts that follow upon grace. I show them the waters that bear corn to us, and breed fish for us; and the pastures that feed our cows. And I tell them about the sand that the rough sea washes up to strengthen our dykes; and I bid them be thankful that we have lime-kilns near, without which the fever might carry us all off any autumn."
"The fever prevails here then?"
"We have lost two of the children in it; but Providence has been pleased to show us the way out of this danger, through our pastor. You see that mill, with the new thatch upon it. Well; it was our pastor who thought we might have a mill as well as our neighbours; and it carries off the mud, and keeps up a stir in the water, so that we trust God will preserve us from the fever this year."