“Do tell us about him. Kittie, throw on another piece of bark, and don’t let that cunning little Maltee tumble into the fire!”
“Well, Holland, you see, is a queer place. Hundreds of years ago people came upon a great swampy piece of land, running far out into the sea, and said, ‘Now if we could only keep out the ocean in some way, this would be a nice place to live in. We could have towns and cities all along the coast, and we could build ships to sail around the world, and at last we should become so powerful that any nation would be glad to call us friends.’
“Accordingly they set their wits to work to devise some plan for holding back the salt tides, which rose and fell as they pleased all through the borders of this country. Then they began to build huge mounds of earth, or ‘dykes,’ along the shore; and they kept on building until they had a strong earthen wall nearly or quite around their land. Randolph, do you know any similar place in the Western Continent?”
“In some parts of Nova Scotia, I believe, sir.”
“And along the Mississippi,” added Tom.
“Right, both of you. The result was that the sea could no longer flood the fields, but threw its great waves and white foam against the outside of the dykes as if it were always trying to push its way in. As soon as people were sure their farms would not be washed away and their cattle drowned, they built towns, which grew and prospered amazingly. There was so little high land that there were but few streams powerful enough to turn mill-wheels, so they made wind-mills to grind their wheat and corn. Finally the country was named ‘Holland,’ and, as the first dyke-builders had expected, great nations were glad to win their good-will.
“Not many years ago there lived in Holland a small boy, rather strong for his age and size, whom we will call Hans Van Groot. His home was near the sea; and after he had attended to all his duties about home, he liked nothing better than to take a walk with his father along the top of the dyke, and watch the white cows, as he called the foamy waves, come rushing up to the shore, shaking their heads and bellowing at him.
“‘No, no!’ he would cry out, laughing gleefully, ‘you can’t get in, you can’t get in! The fence is too strong for you!’
“THE WAVES WERE RUNNING ENORMOUSLY LARGE.”