Description

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There were friends waiting on the shore for all save Love. Older brothers these were, fathers and other relatives who had made the pilgrimage from England a few months before and had homes ready for them all. They climbed a long hill, very flat on the top, and reached by a flight of steps. Then they were as high as the trees that lined the beach and could look over the narrow streets, the tidy cottages with their red roofs, and the pretty gardens. There were many little canals, like blue ribbons, cutting the green fields. "Welcome to Amsterdam " said a Dutch housewife, in wide white cap and apron, who met them. She put her hand on Love's yellow hair. "And in which house are you going to live, little English blossom?" she asked kindly. Love looked up wonderingly into her face and there was a whispered consultation between Mistress Brewster and the Amsterdam woman. "Poor little blossom She shall come home with me. There is always room for one more in the stork's nest," the Dutch woman said kindly. She took Love's hand and led her away from the others, and along the canal.