So what does the quick-witted youngster do? He shoves his little
arm in the crevice on the inner side, where already the water is
trickling through, thus blocking the leak. All night long he
stands there, one small, half-frozen Dutch boy holding back the
entire North Atlantic. Not until centuries later, when Judge Alton
B. Parker runs for president against Colonel Roosevelt and is
defeated practically by acclamation is there to be presented so
historic and so magnificent an example of a contest against
tremendous odds. In the morning a peasant, going out to mow the
tulip beds, finds the little fellow crouched at the foot of the
dike and inquires what ails him. The lad, raising his weary
head--but wait, I shall quote the exact language of the book:
"I am hindering the sea from running in," was the simple reply
of the child.
Simple? I'll say it is! Positively nothing could be simpler unless
it be the stark simplicity of the mind of an author who figures
that when the Atlantic Ocean starts boring its way through a crack
in a sea wall you can stop it by plugging the hole on the inner
side of the sea wall with a small boy's arm. Ned Buntline may
never have enjoyed the vogue among parents and teachers that Mr.
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