Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer — Part 195

The new comer proved to be Tryntje Jonas, alias Barbara Worth. She was made known to the hostess as the mother of Annetje, and as the first nurse and woman doctor in the settlement. Her skirt was of true linsey-woolsey, from which hung an immense pincushion. With her glasses and her knitting-bag on her arm she looked duly professional as she paid her respects to the Dutch vrouw with stately dignity.

A sweeping curtsy and Madame Kiersted, Annetje’s daughter, otherwise Grace Tyson, was telling with pride of the part she had played as Indian interpreter, when the officials of the town were making a treaty with the Indians. She was well-versed in the Algonquin language, she explained, as she had played with little Indian children from the time she was a wee lassie.

She told, too, how she had signed a petition and presented it to the councillors, begging that the good vrouws be permitted to hold a market day. This petition was granted, and market day was held thenceforth on Saturdays, when the dames of the colony were permitted to offer their wares for sale on the Strand near her home. Furthermore, the Madame stated she had a shed built in her back yard, so that the Indian squaws could make brooms and string wampum, which they, too, sold on market day. From a little bag she now produced a wampum belt, explaining that it was made of twisted periwinkle shells strung on hemp. A blue clam-shell was also brought forth, which had been punctured with holes and which was called _sewant_; these two shells at that time constituting the currency of the colony.

But the Indian’s friend had gone and in her place stood a _grande dame_, the famous Madame Van Cortland, generally known in the olden days as “the maker of a stone street.” Madame, when inquiry was made, said she had been born in Holland, but came to the _dorp_ to marry her lover, Captain Oloff Van Cortland. “We lived in a very grand house for those times, for it was made of glazed brick and had a sloping roof with a gable turned towards the street, after the manner of the ‘Patria,’” she added with pompous gravity. “There were steps leading to the roof, too, so when it rained or snowed the water could run into a hogshead in the yard instead of on my neighbor’s sidewalk or head. The house was furnished in a grand style, all the furniture came from Holland, and in front of it was a little stoop with two side benches and a door with an enormous brass knocker.”