s; an effective structure, though fitted by modern restorers
with an entirely new 'head'--not, however, ineffective of its kind.

The day is now fairly opened. There is a goodly muster of
market-women and labourers at the handsome station, which, like every
station of the first rank in Belgium, bears its name 'writ large.' It
is just striking five as we hurry away, and in some half an hour we
arrive at ORCHIES--one of those new spick-and-span little towns,
useful after their kind, but disagreeable to the aesthetic eye.
Everything here is of that meanest kind of brick, 'pointed,' as it is
called, with staring white, such as it is seen in the smaller Belgian
stations. Feeling somewhat degraded by this contact, I was glad to be
hurried away, and within an hour find we are approaching one of the
greater French cities.

VI.

_DOUAI._

Now begin to flit past us signs unmistakable of an approaching
fortified town. Here are significant green banks and mounds cut to
angles and geometrical patterns, soft and enticing, enriched with
luxuriant trees, but treacherous--smiling on the confiding houses and
gardens which one day may be levelled at a few hours' notice. Next
come compact masses of Vauban brick, ripe and ruddy, of beautiful,
smooth workmanship; stately military gateways and drawbridges, with a
patch of red trousering--a soldier on his fat Normandy 'punch' ambling
lazily over; and the peaceful cart with its Flemish horses. The
brick-work is sliced through, as with a cheese-knife, to admit the
railway, giving a complete section of the work. We are, in short, at
one of the great _places fortes_ of France, Douai, where the curious
traveller had best avoid sketching, or taking notes--a serious
offence. Here I lingered pleasantly for nearly three hours, and,
having duly breakfasted, noted its air of snug comfort and
prosperity. There is here a famous arsenal--ever busy--one of the
most important in France, and it has besides some welcome bits of
artistic architecture.

It was when wandering down a darkish street, that I came on a most
original building, the old _Mairie_, enriched with a belfry of
delightfully graceful pattern. It might be a problem how to combine a
bell-tower with offices for municipal work, and we know in our land
how such a 'job' would be carried out by 'the architect to the Board.'
But all over Flemish France and Belgium proper we find an
inexhaustible fancy and fertility in such designs. It is