from one to five francs a night for your automobile.

The chief sight of Utrecht is its cathedral, with a fine Gothic tower
over a hundred metres in height. It is the proper thing to mount to
its highest landing, whence one gets one of the most remarkable
bird's-eye views imaginable. In a flat country like Holland, the
wide-spread panoramas, taken from any artificial height, embrace an
extent of the world's surface not elsewhere to be taken in by a
glance of the eye. The Zuyder-Zee and the lowlands of the north
stretch out to infinity on one side; to the east the silver-spreading
streaks of the Waal and the Oude Rijn (later making the Rhine) lead
off toward Germany. To the south are the green-grown prairies and
windmill-outlined horizons of South Holland; and westward are the
_polders_ and dunes of the region between Amsterdam and Rotterdam,
and even a glimpse, on a clear day, of the North Sea itself.

Our one long ride in Holland was from Utrecht to Nymegen, seventy-two
kilometres. We left Utrecht after lunch and slowly made our way along
the picture landscapes of the Holland countryside, through Hobbema
avenues, and under the shadow of quaint Dutch church spires.

One does not go to a foreign land to enjoy only the things one sees
in cities. Hotels, restaurants, and cafes are very similar all over
Europe, and the great shops do not vary greatly in Rotterdam from
those in Liverpool. It is with the small things of life, the doings
of the butcher, the baker and the candlestick-maker that the change
comes in. In Holland the housekeeper buys her milk from a little
dog-drawn cart and can be waked at three in the morning, without
fail, by leaving an order the night before with the "morning waker."
If you do not have a fire going all the time, and want just enough to
cook your dinner with, you go out and buy a few lumps of blazing
coals. If it is boiling water you want for your coffee, you go out
and buy it too. Holland must be a housekeeper's paradise.

Nymegen, on the Waal, cared for us for the night. On the morrow we
were to cross the frontier and enter Germany and the road by the
Rhine.

Nymegen and its Hotel Keizer Karel, on the Keizer Karel Plain, was a
vivid memory of what a stopping-place for the night between two
objective points should be.

The city was delightful, its tree-grown boulevards, its attractive
cafes, the music playing in the park, and all the rest was an
agreeable interlude, and the catering--if