Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1886-04-02
4 LEAK IN THE DIXIE.
An Old story worth ReprIn,Inr.


In quaint old cottage in Holland, right on
the bank Of one Of the dikes which, with
the larger canals, intersect that country as the
roads and streets do with us, lived little Al
brecht-or, AZ his companions called him.
'Brecht-with his parents, Caspar and
Gretchen Gerritz
His father was generally away from bis
family all the week being employed on board
canal-boat. These convey merchandise of
various kinds, together with country produce,
such AZ fish, eggs, cheese, butter, and fruit
to different points on the soabosrd, and return
with articles that are needed either in their
own homes or for traffic with their neighbors
Holland is truly wonderful country
Centuries ago, the land was patiently and Ia.
borousy reclaimed from the sea, aud pro-
tected by great embankments OF sand, earth,
and timber from its encroachments.
And not only 80, but there is constant
struggle going on to keep out this terrible
foe, which is continually surging and thun-
dering against the sluice gates, as II demand
ing admlttance. Hundreds of villages aud
thousands Of their inhabitants have in for
mer times been overwhelmed in these inun-
dations, so that a oeaseess watch is necessa-
ry to guard against the recurrence of such
cAlamities.
Should you ever visit Holland, you would
meet with many curious sights. Whole fam
lilies have no other residence than the canal
boats. The women cook, spin, and attend
to their children, their cares being divided
between them and the COW, pigs, and fowls
which they carry with them. Some Of them
even cultivate an abundance of gay flowers
in long boxes on deck, the Hoanders hAv-
ing great passion for these floral displays
On land, you would notice innumerable
windmills, employed in pumping the waters
from tho rivers and lakes into the sea, houses
pointed red, blue, or green, with tiled roofs
also Of some bright color A few old-fash.
ioned cottages are still TO be found here and
there, like that IN which the Gerritz family
lived with matched roof instead of tiling.
and in the midst Of the straw covering over
head patriarchal stOrk's nest, which has
bsen there, perhaps, for several generations
AZ this bird il much venerated in Holland
and protected by law from destruction. it al
ways returns to the same nest every year.
Then, you would notice how very clean the
streets and houses are kept and how different
the people are in dress and manners from
those we are accustomed TO meet with ut
home.
Little Brecht Gerritz bad once been with
his mother, Gretchen. in his fathers canal.
boat, as far as the city OF Rotterdam, and
bad seen in the market-plsce a bronze statue
of the great Erasmus. with his furred gown
and cap and book in his hand. He learned,
| too, that the real name of this famous schol.
ar was Gerrit Gerritz, the same as their own;
and he wondered If he should ever be great,
and have people talk about him.
At last, he run i'll and told his mother, who
was busy baking orullers, what he was think
ing about But she only shook her head, as
she took up her cakes with long handled
skinner, and said quietly
Always be good and brave, my little
Brecht, and then you will be truly great"
| but, mother, wasn't Erasmus good Z"
He was fine scholar, and wrote many
books that people talked much about But
he WAS not valiant for the truth, like good
Martin Luther over there in Germany"
Then she told Brecht how the noble re-
former who, before he died, was ON footing
| with kings aud emperors, was once so poor
that, when he was at school trying to get an
education, he was obliged to go out in the
evenings aud sing from door to door to earn
a bit of bread to keep himself from starving;
and how, one night, good Dame Ursula Gotta,
being attracted by his sweet voice, called the
young musician in and befrended him, Civ
ing him home in her dwelling until he
| could get place in the university
Brecht would have liked to ask Mother
Gretchen great many questions about Lu-
ther but, after she had repeated to him
some of the beautiful hymns tue great re-
former bad written, she told him il was time
for him to go TO school, and began to pack
several articles Of food in his little basket,
saying as she did 40
Don't forget, Brecht, to share your din.
ner with little lame Gotteb the old cobblers
grandson. You know he never has half
enough to eat, and we ought always to be
good TO the poor. For the Lord loveth a
cheerful giver. Now run away, and mind to
fill your basket with bilbeTries as you come
homs through the forest. They will make
you nice supper to night with milk and
brown bread"
Brecht peeped into the basket as he went,
and was well pleased with the plentiful din
ner that had been provided for him. There
were thick rounds of bread and butter, ball
of yellow cheese, goodly share of the crul-
lers, two great rosy apples, besides slices Of
black pudding, for the making of which his
mother was quite famous in the neghbor-
hood.
Like other young Hollanders, Brecht had a
healthy appetite, and enjoyed the good things
OF life. But, besides this, he had such a
kind and generous disposition that he was
quite az much delighted to think how poor
little Gottleb would enjoy the feast.
On his way home, he wandered a consider
able distance from the beaten path, in his
search after the rich ripe berries which hung
in clusters on the bushes, saying over AZ he
did no scraps of the lessons he had been
learning at school.
Suddenly, he noticed that it was growing
quite dark in the forest; and, to make the
matter worse, in the eudeavor TO retrace his
footsteps, he became completely bewldered
and knew not which way to turn. He tried
to find some familiar landmark to guide him,
but all seemed strange and uncertain in the
dim twilight. At last, he saw the CLEAN of
water short distance before him and has
tening joyfully on, he came to a large dixie,
which he determined to follow, as it would
certainly bring him out somewhere.
Bot as the little boy sat down to rest q
} while on the stone wall that imprisoned the
dixie within bounds, he was conscious Of an
unusual sound going on beneath him, like
} the guTgling of water in a narrow necked
bottle Then came a decided trickling, fol-
lowed by a constant drip, drip" as the
stream began to ooze through the stones.
, Brecht started to his feet in dismay. Could
; it be, was it really so Yes, there was no
J mistake about the matter. There 0ds a leak
in tie dixie!
For while. he stood still, too much fright.
ened to think what was best to be done.
: Then, he began to suggest to himself various
= | plans, and reject them as soon as formed In
l his mind. Should he run and give the alarm
I to the dixie tenders2 How could he, when
4 he knew not which way to 60 fol
9 hep9 Shout with all his might? He did
3 80 until he was faint aud sore with the effor
! TO make himself heard. And, in the little
z time that had been consumed in these exer
!, tions, the leak was growing perceptbly wild
i or One or two small stones had fallen will
i the force of the torrent and Brecht instino
!, lively applied his hand TO stop the opening
Q In a few moments he was conscious tina
t the water was kept back even by this slgh
i pressure and he bravely resolved to sta!
4 there
8 II was not alone in his own strength eithe
It that this brave boy trusted. His parent
a were pious people, and had we'll instructe
a their little son in his duty to God and man.