He was as sharp as a needle, and, though only thirteen years of age, he proved to be a perfect "man" of business, rising early every day to go to the morning market and gardening with surprising energy and ambition.
This pleased Mrs. van Warmelo so much that she gave him a plot of ground to cultivate for himself, and he immediately set to work to plant vegetables, spending every spare moment of the day in _his_ garden.
When Hansie laughingly said that she hoped to be his first customer, he protested vehemently against the idea of selling anything to her, and time showed that he meant to keep his word.
All he had was given away with large-hearted generosity and when he had nothing more to give, he _took_ all he required from other people!
Yes, I am afraid Flippie's ideas of honesty were curious in the extreme. He had no idea of "mine and thine," as we say in Dutch.[2]
Arguments were of no avail, for Flippie was the scornfullest little boy I ever came across and knew everything better than his superiors.
Hansie set to work to study him, but found it necessary to reconstruct her ideas of him every day. Flippie baffled her at every turn.
One day she thought he would turn out to be a genius, the next she declared positively that he would come to the gallows, and the third she wondered helplessly whether he could by any chance do both.
Flippie could lie and deceive with the most angelic face and could melt into tears on the least provocation or whenever it suited his book to do so.
A phrenologist would have delighted in the study of that remarkable head.
The forehead receded and went on receding until there was nothing left of it but a great lump at the back of the head, and the little nose tilted up at one in the most impertinent manner, which was given the lie to by the drooping corners of the sensitive mouth. What delighted one most was the sunny temperament, the ringing, infectious laugh, the cheery whistle.
Surely Flippie was the merriest and one of the most lovable little souls one could find anywhere, and his ruling virtue always seemed to be his unswerving loyalty and constant fidelity.
His heart seemed to be torn between his sense of duty to the fearful and wonderful old grandmother, who had taken the place of his dead mother in what bringing-up he ever had, and his sense of gratitude to his protectors at Harmony.