in the streets by old men and women,
who sit at the faucets. I saw one dried-up old grandmother, who sat in
her little caboose, fighting away the crowd of dirty children who tried
to steal a drink when her back was turned, keeping count of the pails of
water carried away with a piece of chalk on the iron pipe, and trying to
darn her stocking at the same time. Odd things strike you at every turn.
There is a sledge drawn by one poor horse, and on the front of it is a
cask of water pierced with holes, so that the water squirts out and wets
the stones, making it easier sliding for the runners. It is an ingenious
people!

After all, we drove out five miles to Broek, the clean village; across
the Y, up the canal, over flatness flattened. Broek is a humbug, as
almost all show places are. A wooden little village on a stagnant canal,
into which carriages do not drive, and where the front doors of the
houses are never open; a dead, uninteresting place, neat but not
specially pretty, where you are shown into one house got up for the
purpose, which looks inside like a crockery shop, and has a stiff
little garden with box trained in shapes of animals and furniture. A
roomy-breeched young Dutchman, whose trousers went up to his neck, and
his hat to a peak, walked before us in slow and cow-like fashion, and
showed us the place; especially some horrid pleasure-grounds, with an
image of an old man reading in a summer-house, and an old couple in
a cottage who sat at a table and worked, or ate, I forget which, by
clock-work; while a dog barked by the same means. In a pond was a wooden
swan sitting on a stick, the water having receded, and left it high and
dry. Yet the trip is worth while for the view of the country and
the people on the way: men and women towing boats on the canals; the
red-tiled houses painted green, and in the distance the villages, with
their spires and pleasing mixture of brown, green, and red tints, are
very picturesque. The best thing that I saw, however, was a traditional
Dutchman walking on the high bank of a canal, with soft hat, short pipe,
and breeches that came to the armpits above, and a little below the
knees, and were broad enough about the seat and thighs to carry his no
doubt numerous family. He made a fine figure against the sky.

COLOGNE AND ST. URSULA

It is a relief to get out of Holland and into a country nearer to hills.
The people also seem more obliging. In Cologne, a brown-cheeked girl