Page:Max Havelaar Or The Coffee Sales of the Netherlands Trading Company Siebenhaar.djvu/312



was evening. Tine sat reading in the inner colonnade, and Havelaar was designing an embroidery-pattern. Little Max was conjuring a block-picture together, and got into a pet because he could not find “the red body of that woman.”

“Do you think it would be all right like this, Tine?” asked Havelaar. “Look, I have made this palm-tree a trifle longer this is exactly Hogarth’s ‘line of beauty,’ don’t you think?”

“Yes, Max, but the lace-holes are too close together.”

“Oh? And then those other borders? Max, just let me see your pants! Halloa! are you wearing border? Why, Tine, I still remember where you worked that!”

“I don’t! Where was it?”

“At The Hague, when Max was ill, and we had been so frightened by the Doctor saying that he had such an unusual head-formation, and that we should have to take the greatest care to prevent undue pressure on the brain. It was exactly at that time that you were embroidering that border.”

Tine got up and kissed the boy.

“I got her stomach, I  got her stomach!” the child exclaimed hilariously, and the red woman was complete.

“Who can hear them beating the tomtom?” asked his mother.

“I,” said little Max.

“And what does it mean? ”

“Bedtime! But I haven’t had anything to eat yet.”

“You shall eat first, of course.”

And she got up, and gave him his simple meal, which she ap-