Showing 10 results for “richard smit”
Bollebakker was deeply offended, but could not quickly come up with a proper retort. At last, he took out pencil and paper, blew a cloud of smoke in the direction of Barentje and cleared his throat. “Tell me now, how much money is taken in each week,” he said in a fatherly tone. Splint took a deep b
With a head full of thoughts Splint walked in the direction of the Langeind. That evening Evert Splint and his wife Sijtje had a long talk by the flickering lamp light. Finally they bowed together at their bed and asked the Lord for deliverance from their distress. While his wife went to bed Splint
Then the voice of Jan Donker rang in the darkness, “The consistory of Hilversum presents itself.” It sounded so very dry that Grootveld and Meijer again fell against each other, but now in laughter. Gijsbert Haan shook his head in disapproval. “Donker, Donker,” he said, but then he also had to join
“Where is your little boy?” “My wife and I wanted to wait a little while with sending Krijntje to the work shop, boss.” “Oh, how touching; and the church likely has to put up with that?” It took Elbert Peet an exasperatingly long time to light a cigar and to pinch his eyes into small slits. “What
Now he was engaged in mistreating two school boys, Lodewijk Peet and Toon Bollebakker.” “Swish”—now he had another shot of juice to deal with, which finally landed in the ashtray of the mayor.
Secondly, I have seen some old pictures of the consistory of Hope CRC of Riverbend, which was deposed by Classis Grand Rapids West. In these pictures is a certain R. Niewenhuis. Is this Richard Newhouse as well, with the Dutch spelling? Thank you for writing this series. I find it both interesting a
Reverend Buddingh and the consistory stepped forward. Manus Rebel closed the door and took his seat on a worn out saddle that he had discovered on the farm. “The nicest seat for a hussar,” he whispered to his neighbor. Then it became perfectly quiet in the back part of the house of Gijsbert Haan. Re
Thijs De Vries had to witness in helpless rage, how De Noolj struck his uncle on his head and pushed him toward the door like a criminal, while Van Huizen with great difficulty dragged Gilbert Hogenbirk away. At that moment, on the other side of the house, a low door was opened from the outside. In
“They will miss us like a toothache,” thought Bart Van Leeuwen, a young cabinetmaker, who stood by the railing with his wife and child. But Jacob Hordijk, an old spinner, immediately admonished him. “You may not talk that way, Bart! There are also people like the grocer Cornelis De Jongh. And above
Martin Boelhouwer, you try to read this for us in a proper and clear tone of voice!” The lad blushed from both shyness and pride. He put his feet together and his hands behind his back. At that moment the side door creaked softly open and Mr. Van Oostveen entered the room. When he saw Martin standi