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CHAPTER I.

Some account of Hans Van Garretson and a full length sermon preached by him undutched, out of the original language of NIEW AMSTERDAM.

EVERYBODY has heard of Hans Van Garretson, who lived, many years ago, on the corner of the streets now called Nassau and Liberty. He was born under the Dutch Dynasty; lived part of the time under the English, and the rest of his days protected under the Stars and Stripes. He was a diminutive fellow in body; his mind, however, was so thickly settled in its habitation that it was as choice as the refined gold in the crucible. His chief end in this life was to love his wife, go to church, and hate the English; and so well did he cling to his creed that no man could say of him " He hath erred." His wife was all that a Dutch wife was expected to be obedient, buxom and good-natured, and they were as well-matched as two stivers. He attended the solemn-looking sanctuary opposite his dwelling, whose back is lifted up against the vanity and wickedness of this world, set obstinately against evil, and whose doors never creak upon their hinges when opened to the pious. The roof is raised to its present heavenly height by an inward pressure of the spirit, and in ancient time looked so marvelously Dutch, that it was nicked a wall town of Holland.

Mynher Von Garretson was a terrible man in his time and neighborhood-and had there been any brokers for the sale of humanity, he would have been brought to market as a specimen of the Dutch community. He was the terror of evil-doers, dreaded by the urchins as a humanized birch or nine-tails; but he was also as equally beloved by those

younkers who did well so often did his hand render its quasi applause on their noddles that it forever after kept them in a state of titillating softness. His aversion was cats and dogs, and his tenement was as well known among them as among the citizens. Many a time have they threatened vengeance with their mouths wide open, to repay him for the rebuff so well administered by his old fashioned, treble-soled boots; but Hans got bravely over the threatened attack, by reading, in good clerical style, the corporation ordinance.

Philosophers have never properly accounted for the fact, why Dutchmen and dogs are always at odds It may be because they run barelegged, when they should wear leather breeches. It may be because they do not drink Schnap and eat Gingerbread. The latter may have been a good ancient reason; though I have seen many a wellbred modern bow-wow, who would eat gingerbread manfully, and the best of Holland gingerbread too-a good tooth

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Hans was one of your would-be general officers, who think it their bounden duty to correct the manners of the age-to purge it by the hyssop of chastisement from the carbuncles of peccadillos and irregularities-to keep an open eye upon suspicious characters, taking care to follow close upon the heels of christians, (as some take the idea,) to suspect every body but themselves. Did he discover a supposed rogue, he arrested him forthwith. If he resisted, it was a sure evidence of guilt. Did he submit, the proof was too plain, and so fond was he of believing men to be rogues, that his upright hands were in time lain upon the whole town. I say these things more in sorrow than in anger; but when we consider that Hans took upon himself, out of pure good nature, more than is considered as belonging to the duties of a Dutchman, charitable feelings plead

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