feature of the event, are now quite
rare, and therefore this event of the parade of the wicker effigies of
the fabulous giant Gayant and his family was certainly worth the journey
from Tournai. The day was made memorable also to the writer and his
companion because of the following adventure.

There had been, it seems, considerable feeling against England among the
lower orders in this border town over the Anglo-Boer War, so that
overhearing us speaking English, some half grown lads began shouting
out at us "Verdamt Engelsch" and other pleasantries, and in a moment a
crowd gathered about us.

With the best Flemish at his command the writer addressed them,
explaining that we were Americans, but what the outcome would have been,
had it not been for the timely arrival of a gendarme, I know not; but
under his protection we certainly beat a hasty retreat. The lower
classes of Flemings in their cups are unpleasant people to deal with,
and it were well not to arouse them. But for this incident, and the fact
that the afternoon brought on a downpour of rain, which somewhat
dampened the ardor of the people and the success of the fete, our little
trip over the border to this historic town would be considered worth
while. Our last view of Douai was from the train window as we recrossed
the river Scarpe, with the massive tower of the Hotel de Ville showing
silhouetted dim and gray against a streaming sky.

Oudenaarde

Oudenaarde

From the small stucco station, embowered in luxuriant trees, we crossed
a wide grass grown square, faring towards the turrets of the town, which
appeared above the small red and black tiled roofs of some mean looking
peasant houses, and an _estaminet_, of stucco evidently brand new, and
bearing a gilt lion over its door. Here a wide and rather well paved
street led towards the town, bordered upon either hand by well kept and
clean but blank looking houses, with the very narrowest sidewalks
imaginable, all of which somehow reminded us of some of the smaller
streets of Philadelphia. The windows of these houses flush with the
street were closely hung with lace, and invariably in each one was
either a vase or a pot of some sort filled with bright flowers.
Occasionally there was a small poor looking shop window in which were
dusty glass jars of candy, pipes, packages of tobacco, coils of rope and
hardware, and in one, evidently that of an apothecary, a large carved
and varnished black head of