diaeval bourg. Rather it gives one the impression that old
traditions are all but dead and that it is mere improvidence and
_laisser-aller_ that allows them to exist.

Flemish Brussels is picturesque enough, but it is squalid, except for
the magnificent Hotel de Ville, which stands to-day in all the glory
that it did when Charles V. of Spain ruled the destinies of the
country.

It was in the square in front of the Hotel de Ville that Alva gloated
over the flowing blood of his victims as it ran from the scaffold.

The churches of Brussels, as might be supposed from the historical
importance of the city in the past, are numerous and celebrated, at
least they are characteristically Flemish in much of their
belongings, though the great cathedral of Ste. Gudule itself is
Gothic of the unmistakable French variety.

Brussels, its cathedrals, its Hotel de Ville, its Cloth Hall, and its
Corporation or Guild Houses, and many more splendid architectural
sites and scenes are all powerful attractions for sightseers.

We went from Brussels to Ghent, forty-eight kilometres, and still
over _pave_. The bicyclist is better catered for, he has cinder
side-paths almost all over Belgium and accordingly he should enjoy
his touring in occidental and oriental Flanders even more than the
automobilist.

Ghent was one day a seaport of rank, much greater rank than that of
to-day, for only a sort of sea-going canal-boat, a _chaland_ or a
_caboteur_, ever comes up the canals to the wharves.

Ghent is a great big town, but it does not seem in the least like a
city in spite of its hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants. Its
churches, its belfry, its chateau, and its museum are the chief
sights for tourists--automobilists and others. We visited them all
after lunch, which was eaten (and paid for at Paris prices) at the
Hotel de la Poste, and covered another forty-six kilometres of
_pave_, before we turned in for the night at Bruges' Hotel du Sablon.
There are others, but the Hotel du Sablon at Bruges was modest in its
price, efficient in its service, and excellent in its catering. The
chief delicacy of the menu here is the _mossel_. One eats mussels
_(mossels)_ in Belgium--if he will--and it's hard for one to escape
them. They are _moules_ in France, _mossels_ in Belgium and Holland,
and mussels in England. They are a sea food which has never tickled
the American palate; but, after many refusals and much resentment, we
ate them--and found them