The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-05-26
THE DUTcHnIAN's LUCK.


[Ne,o York Ners.
ti THE DUTcHHIAN's LUCK.
During the winter of 1856, business call
ed me to, D., small, obscure village in
the interior of Pennsylvania.
1T was rather late in the evening when I
arrived there, cold and hungry, for tre-
mendous snow-storm was raging at the
time; and as had travelled far that day, it
is no wonder that it was with feelings very
near akin to satisfaction that hailed the
appearance OF the village inn, small, two
story frame building, which loomed up in
the darkness before me. Albright log fire was
blazing on the hearth when L entered, be-
fore which I was soon comfortably seated,
with glass of something warm in my
hand, awaiting the preparation of the sup
per had ordered.
The landlord of the 'sBeehive'' (for such
was the name Of the inn) was busting,
good-humored sort of O fellow, whose
greatest delight seemed to consist in making
his guests as comfortable as possible.
Before small table were seated three
men, whose appearance indicated them to
be farmers. One of them was a small, rosy
checked man, ehock-full of fun and good
nature; as his dancing eyes and smiling face
sufficiently testified, while his broken Eng
lish proved him to be Dutchman.
"Vell, neighpors." he said, ''I must pc
koin home now, or else mine goot frow veel
pat apout me. Ven drink yonce more, an
ten I Iko."
So saying, he called for some moro ale;
after drinking which, he settled with the
landlord, and took his departure.
Ever since our 'Fortune-teller' has had
an heir, he hates to be away from home" t"
said the host, turning to the two men at the
table. itf.
"What makes you call the man who has
just left fortune-teller?" I asked the land
land, in some surprise.
lit is quite funny story" replied mine
host; "and if you like, I'll relate it to you
after you've had your supper"
1 assured him that it would give me great
pleasure; and as my supper was now ready,
I fell to, doing ample justice to the savory
viands of which it was composed.
After had satisfied my hunger, called
for bowl of punch. and inviting the land
lord and his two companions to assist, lit
my meerschaum, and settled myself to listen
to the promised story, which the landlord
told as follows: ao,i.i
In a certain village not hundred miles
from here, there lived a Dutch farmer named
Dunderman, whose family consisted of his
wife, and only son named Carl, who helped
his father work the farm. Carl was an in
dustrious, sober young man, who had
reached the age OF twenty-one without hav-
ing once been ten miles away from home;
80 it is not to be presumed that his know
ledge or experience was very extensive.
Carl's invariable custom was to go every
evening, as soon as his work was done, and
see Katrina Van Klepper, the daughter of a
neighbor, as handsome and buxom lass as
ever trod shoe-leather. While he would sit
and smoke with the old man, talking about
the crops and weather, Katrina would sit
demurely by sewing or knitting, as the case
might be. Precisely when the clock struck
9, Carl was expected to leave.
But one night, Carl, instead of leaving at
9 as usual, still fingered, much to the sur
prise OF old Van Klepper, who, after waiting
a few minutes without seeing any signs OF
his leaving, asked him why he did not leave,
as he wished to shut up.
'Pecause, neighbor Van Klepper, want
to speak vew worts NIT you," answered
Carl, rather sheepisbly.
''Vell. ferry goot! putatvhy ton't you Pc
kin den?" returned the worthy, proceeding
to fill his pipe.
'Vell, den, neighpor Van Klepper," be.
gan Carl, in rather hesitating manner, II
loves your laughter Katrina, more as nefer
vas, an she loves me doc; an as mine fader's
warm an your warm atjoin, dinks dat We
peter marry, so dat ven fader an you tie,
de broberty will sday in the vamily!'
''Vell, fiery goot, Carl" replied Van
klepper, looking rather blank at being thus