hans brinker-第32章
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Ascending the grand staircase； the boys soon found themselves in a rather gloomy apartment； containing the masterpiece of Lucas van Leyden； or Hugens； a Dutch artist born three hundred and seventy years ago； who painted well when he was ten years of age and became distinguished in art when only fifteen。 This picture； called the Last Judgment； considering the remote age in which it was painted； is truly a remarkable production。 The boys； however； were less interested in tracing out the merits of the work than they were in the fact of its being a triptychthat is； painted on three divisions； the two outer ones swung on hinges so as to close； when required； over the main portion。
The historical pictures of Harel de Moor and other famous Dutch artists interested them for a while； and Ben had to be almost pulled away from the dingy old portrait of Van der Werf。
The town hall； as well as the Egyptian Museum； is on the Breedstraat； the longest and finest street in Leyden。 It has no canal running through it； and the houses； painted in every variety of color； have a picturesque effect as they stand with their gable ends to the street； some are very tall with half their height in their step…like roofs； others crouch before the public edifices and churches。 Being clean； spacious； well…shaded； and adorned with many elegant mansions； it compares favorably with the finery portions of Amsterdam。 It is kept scrupulously neat。 Many of the gutters are covered with boards that open like trapdoors； and it is supplied with pumps surmounted with shining brass ornaments kept scoured and bright at the public cost。 The city is intersected by numerous water roads formed by the river Rhine； there grown sluggish； fatigued by its long travel； but more than one hundred and fifty stone bridges reunite the dissevered streets。 The same world…renowned river； degraded from the beautiful； free…flowing Rhine； serves as a moat from the rampart that surrounds Leyden and is crossed by drawbridges at the imposing gateways that give access to the city。 Fine broad promenades； shaded by noble trees； border the canals and add to the retired appearance of the houses behind； heightening the effect of scholastic seclusion that seems to pervade the place。
Ben； as he scanned the buildings on the Rapenburg Canal； was somewhat disappointed in the appearance of the great University of Leyden。 But when he recalled its historyhow； attended with all the pomp of a grand civic display； it had been founded by the Prince of Orange as a tribute to the citizens for the bravery displayed during the siege； when he remembered the great men in religion； learning； and science who had once studied there and thought of the hundreds of students now sharing the benefits of its classes and its valuable scientific museumshe was quite willing to forego architectural beauty； though he could not help feeling that no amount of it could have been misplaced on such an institution。
Peter and Jacob regarded the building with an even deeper； more practical interest； for they were to enter it as students in the course of a few months。
〃Poor Don Quixote would have run a hopeless tilt in this part of the world；〃 said Ben after Lambert had been pointing out some of the oddities and beauties of the suburbs。 〃It is all windmills。 You remember his terrific contest with one； I suppose。〃
〃No；〃 said Lambert bluntly。
〃Well； I don't； either； that is； not definitely。 But there was something of that kind in his adventures； and if there wasn't； there should have been。 Look at them； how frantically they whirl their great armsjust the thing to excite the crazy knight to mortal combat。 It bewilders one to look at them。 Help me to count all those we can see； Van Mounen。 I want a big item for my notebook。〃 And after a careful reckoning； superintended by all the party； Master Ben wrote in pencil； 〃Saw； Dec。； 184； ninety…eight windmills within full view of Leyden。〃
He would have been glad to visit the old brick mill in which the painter Rembrandt was born； but he abandoned the project upon learning that it would take them out of their way。 Few boys as hungry as Ben was by this time would hesitate long between Rembrandt's home a mile off and tiffin close by。 Ben chose the latter。
After tiffin； they rested awhile； and then took another； which； for form's sake； they called dinner。 After dinner the boys sat warming themselves at the inn； all but Peter； who occupied the time in another fruitless search for Dr。 Boekman。
This over； the party once more prepared for skating。 They were thirteen miles from The Hague and not as fresh as when they had left Broek early on the previous day； but they were in good spirits and the ice was excellent。
The Palace in the Wood
As the boys skated onward； they saw a number of fine country seats； all decorated and surrounded according to the Dutchest of Dutch taste； but impressive to look upon； with their great； formal houses； elaborate gardens； square hedges； and wide ditchessome crossed by a bridge； having a gate in the middle to be carefully locked at night。 These ditches； everywhere traversing the landscape； had long ago lost their summer film and now shone under the sunlight like trailing ribbons of glass。
The boys traveled bravely； all the while performing the surprising feat of producing gingerbread from their pockets and causing it to vanish instantly。
Twelve miles were passed。 A few more long strokes would take them to The Hague； when Van Mounen proposed that they should vary their course by walking into the city through the Bosch。
〃Agreed！〃 cried one and alland their skates were off in a twinkling。
The Bosch is a grand park or wood； nearly two miles long； containing the celebrated House in the WoodHuis in't Boschsometimes used as a royal residence。
The building； though plain outside for a palace； is elegantly furnished within and finely frescoedthat is； the walls and ceiling are covered with groups and designs painted directly upon them while the plaster was fresh。 Some of the rooms are tapestried with Chinese silks； beautifully embroidered。 One contains a number of family portraits； among them a group of royal children who in time were orphaned by a certain ax； which figures very frequently in European history。 These children were painted many times by the Dutch artist Van Dyck； who was court painter to their father； Charles the First of England。 Beautiful children they were。 What a deal of trouble the English nation would have been spared had they been as perfect in heart and soul as they were in form！
The park surrounding the palace is charming； especially in summer； for flowers and birds make it bright as fairyland。 Long rows of magnificent oaks rear their proud heads； conscious that no profaning hand will ever bring them low。 In fact； the Wood has for ages been held as an almost sacred spot。 Children are never allowed to meddle with its smallest twig。 The ax of the woodman has never resounded there。 Even war and riot have passed it reverently； pausing for a moment in their devastating way。 Philip of Spain； while he ordered Dutchmen to be mowed down by hundreds； issued a mandate that not a bough of the beautiful Wood should be touched。 And once； when in a time of great necessity the State was about to sacrifice it to assist in filling a nearly exhausted treasury； the people rushed to the rescue； and nobly contributed the required amount rather than that the Bosch should fall。
What wonder； then； that the oaks have a grand； fearless air？ Birds from all Holland have told them how； elsewhere； trees are cropped and bobbed into shapebut THEY are untouched。 Year after year they expand in unclipped luxuriance and beauty； their wide…spreading foliage； alive with song； casts a cool shade over lawn and pathway or bows to its image in the sunny ponds。
Meanwhile； as if to reward the citizens for allowing her to have her way for once； Nature departs from the invariable level； wearing gracefully the ornaments that have been reverently bestowed upon her。 So the lawn slopes in a velvety green； the paths wind in and out； flower beds glow and send forth perfume； and ponds and sky look at each other in
