"Mynheer and Juffrouwen, may God bless you all this evening! This is my son Klaas, of whom you have heard, I suppose. He's too close kin to me for me to praise him; but you understand--when it's the father--well, all blessings come from above."
"Yes, indeed, Juffrouw, a beautiful surprise. I congratulate this gentleman on the happy return of his natal day. It puts me in the mood of the psalmist--and I thank God--for Mynheer, everything comes from above, you know."
"Take a seat. I thank you," said the host, who understood that he had been congratulated. "It's cold out, isn't it?"
"Yes, a little cool; hardly cold. It's just what we call cool, you understand. The Master gives us weather as he sees fit; and for that reason I say cool. Everything comes from above."
To this last statement all assented in audible sighs and thought themselves pious. What would have happened to him if some poor devil had announced to them that some things come from below?
"And now, uncle, what do you say? Shall we begin with the surprise?"
"Oh, it's only a trifle, Mynheer," put in the catechist. "My son is a poet. I don't praise him, because he's too close kin to me; but he's a clever fellow--I can say that without bragging--for everything comes from above. No, I won't praise him--praise is for the Master alone. But he's a clever fellow."
The poet Klaas looked conscious, and sat toying with the bottom button on his vest. He looked poetical all over.
"And so, Mynheer, without bragging--get it out, my son. As a father, Mynheer, I may say that he's a clever fellow; for in the Bible----"
Klaasje drew a piece of paper from his pocket.
"In the Bible there is really nothing said about widowers--the Master has his own good reasons for it--but what does the boy do? He takes the hint and writes a whole poem on widows."
"Yes, I dare say, he has brought into it all the widows mentioned in the Bible."
"You see it's a surprise. I told you so," said Juffrouw Laps.
"Read it, Klaasje! There are seventy, Mynheer, seventy widows. Read, my boy."
Klaas pulled at his clothes, arranged his cuffs and began:
"The widows that in the Bible appear, I've brought together in this poem here, For the birthday that we celebrate Of him who sadly lost his mate, Exalting always the Master of Love, For all that we have comes from above."