“But, Master Pennewip,” asked Juffrouw Pieterse—she threw the subdued sucking animal a look that was like a triumphant telegram, and read: Where are you now?—“but Master Pennewip, what has Walter been doing now?”
“Yes, what has he been up to this time,” added Juffrouw Laps, delighted that the conversation had taken this turn, and that she was now to hear about Walter’s latest sin.
For the sinner is a thing in which pious persons find much edification. As we have already seen, Juffrouw Laps was fond of edification.
Pennewip was just on the point of beginning his indictment when the door-bell rang. It rang again: “It’s for us”—and in a moment our truant walked into the room.
He was paler than usual, and with good reason; for strange things had happened to him since Fancy had lifted him up and borne him away.
“Juffrouw Pieterse,” began Pennewip, “my school is famous, even as far away as Kattenburg. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Master Pennewip.”
“I repeat it: Famous! And, too, chiefly on account of the fine moral there—I mean, of course, in my school. Religion and morality occupy the first place in my school. I could show you verses on the Deity—but I pass over that. It is sufficient for you to know that my school is famous as far as—but what am I talking about—I’ve even had a boy from Wittenburg; and I was once consulted about the education of a boy whose father lived at Muiderberg.”
“Oh, Master Pennewip!”
“Yes, Juffrouw, I still have the letter and could show it to you. The man was a gravedigger—the boy painted inappropriate figures on the coffins. And just for this reason I feel it my duty to tell you that I don’t intend to see my school lose its good name through that good-for-nothing boy of yours there!”