Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1876-08-04

CHAPTER 1.

| oil MS Darge-WnlCn MS men were Slowly
working through lock near the quaint
and ancient city of Antwerp-and set his
huge Dutch feet upon the deck. His first
act was to below ferociously at the good
natured fellows who were doing their best
to get the barge through without even so
much as scraping the fresh paint on her
sides; his next was deliberately and cruel
ly TO kick a small moon faced boy who was
lying on his back, and looking up at cary
cd wooden figure whose grotesque head
grinned from side rail.
Many of the loungers along the banks of
the lock knew old Jan Kammerick for a
mean and cruel Flemish boor, who mall
| treated his wife, his children, his barge
men, and who sometimes flew into such ter
| rifle fits of anger that he thrashed his own
sides with his round fists. You may see
people just like him in some of Tenier's
paintings-men with low, cunning faces,
small twlukllng, greedy eyes, thick lips ;
men with broad shoulders and stout limbs (;
men who seem always ready to get down
and scramble away on all fours, like the
animals they so much resemble. No one
in Antwerp-not a market-woman on the
shore of the Scheldt, nor bargeman on
river or canal-liked the choleric and bru-
| tai Jan Kammerick many times the
wretch had narrowly escaped ducking at
the hands of mob, because of his cruel
ties and on this occasion, seeing the poor
child who was kicked begin TO cry and TO
crawl away toward refuge under pile of
rope, every one shouted:
"Jan Kammerick Jan Kammerick you
re mean, bad man, and no one will be
sor ry when you come TO harmr or Jan
Kammerick you shall be complained of
TO the judge of the districtH'
The women shook their fists at him,
aud the men multered that the boy must
| be taken away from his cruel father and
| cared for. Kammerick's poor wife, who
was washing her pots and kettles on deck,
looked as if she inwardly sympathized
ith the people on shore, but she trembled,
and dared say nothing.
Jan was in such dreadful temper that
the cries of the people on shore made him
more furious still.
"Its none of your business" he shouted,
show much kick and pound this bratl
He is good for nothing but whiting and
breaking knives. If he carves any moro
Of his pudding faces out of my boat rails,
I'll send him adrift. Then you will have
W hat you want! Then neighbors, you will
have pauper on your hands and when
you feed him in your kitchens, he will
carve doll puppets out OF your table-legs."
Then he vanished down the hatchway,
followed by the maledictions of the by
ISLANDERS.
ar / were you" cried one of them to the
boy, ~ would run away"
The barge went on through the locks, and
the boy still crouched in his corner. The
tears yet dimmed his eyes, but he had al
dy forgotten his bruises. There was no
resentment in his heart toward his wretch
ed father. His mind was filled with n
thousand beautiful and fantastic images
delicate fancies which be now and then
sought to embOdy in bits of wood that he
laboriously carved with clumsy knives or
cbisels. lie longed 10 be free from the
rude work which he was compelled TO do
upon the barge, and 10 study, that he might
become great sculptor in wood. When
the barge passed near some of the curious
~ adorned old houses of which there are
so many in Antwerp-houses whose win
dows, whose roofs, whose arches, whose
doors were richly and profusely adorned
with carvings of birds and foliage, of beasts
and dragons, OF mystical figures from my
thologies, or comica. transcripts from ev-
oryday Dutch lile-he studied them care
tllv and xyiil, aAn 10
had never been allowed to go into the streets
and look at them for hours at a time as he
could have wished 10 do; for old Jan, who
piled to and from little village on tho
banks of the Scheldt, at some distance
from Antwerp, would never allow his child
to go on shore during any of their tri-
weekly visits TO the city. He yearned for
sight of grand churches of which his
mother had told him-cathedrals in whose
solemn stiffness he could stand undlsturb-
ed all day long, drinking in beauty at ev-
cry pore. The harshness and hardship of
his life, the beating of his unnatural father,
would have been as nothing TO him if he
could have been allowed TO learn some-
thing of art. But old Jan not only refused
to let him work, but had thrown into the
river many beautiful images OF saints, of
birds, of dragons, which the child had
carved by stealth when the bargeman was
lot near, and had then offered TO the boor,
asking him to sell them and buy tobacco
for himself with the money.
"No child of mine shall waste his life
over such mummeries," said old Jan.
While the 10y was musing bitterly on
his LOT, his mother, who had finished wash
ing her pots and kettles, came TO him, aud
while she wrung out her dish. cloth, with
her lean and blistered hands, she said, in
low voice:
Jan, boy, you are small and feeble, but
you are now thirteen, aud 1 think you
would be brave and resolute. The good
soul down stairs" (she always called father
Jan good soul, because she knew that he
was an old brute)-''the good soul has
made up his mind that you are to be
bargeman, and he is stern, as you know.
Now-do not speak-we must try new
way to get you launched in the world"
(Here the mothers tears began to fall fast,
and she thought of the beatings which she
might receive If she carried out her plan.)
"My child, you must leave us 4; you must
run awayW
"Never - he said. "I cannot leave you,
motherkin Leave you with that manp
"Listen, child p she said. "We will try
little way which the good God has put in
to my head. You will be genius, my son
-one OF those great people who can ex-
press just what they want to say. You
will carve out your thoughts in wood-in