“Hush!” cried St. Nicholas, “Heaven never forsakes the broken spirit, or turns a deaf ear to the cries of innocent children. It is for the wicked never to hope, the virtuous never to despair. I predict thou shalt live to see better days.”
“I must see them soon then, for neither I, my wife, nor my children have tasted food since twenty-four hours past.”
“What! God be with us! is there such lack of charity in the burghers of the Colonie, that they will suffer a neighbour to starve under their very noses? Onbegrypelik—I'll not believe it.”
“They know not my necessities.”
“No? What! hast thou no tongue to speak them?”
“I am too proud to beg.”
“And too lazy to work,” cried St. Nicholas, in a severe tone.
“Look you,” answered the other, holding up his right arm with his left, and showing that the sinews were stiffened by rheumatism.
“Is it so, my friend? Well, but thou mightst still have bent thy spirit to ask charity for thy starving wife and children, though, in truth, begging is the last thing an honest man ought to stoop to. But Goeden Hemel! here am I talking while thou and thine are perishing with hunger.”
Saying which, St. Nicholas straightway bade the good yffrouw to bring forth the little pine table, which she did, making divers apologies for the want of a tablecloth; and when she had done so, he incontinently spread out upon it such store of good things from his little cart, as made the hungry childrens' mouths to water, and smote the hearts of their parents with joyful thanksgivings. “Eat, drink, and be merry,” said St. Nicholas, “for to-morrow thou shalt not die, but live.”