h somebody else to pieces, while all the time you
knew in your heart that nothing of the sort would happen.

The car went splendidly, and I believe I should have guessed it was a
Dutch one, even if Cousin Robert hadn't told me; it made so little
noise, yet moved so masterfully, and gave an impression of so much
reserve power. Indeed, I might have thought out several nice similes if
there hadn't been quantities of trams and heavy drays blundering about,
or if the inhabitants of Rotterdam had not had a habit of walking in
large family groups in the middle of the street. The big horn through
which Robert every now and again blew a mournful blast, was confusing
when it arrived in the midst of an idea; and a little curved thing
(like the hunting-horn of old pictures) into which the chauffeur
occasionally mewed, was as disconcerting to my nerves as to those of the
pedestrians who hopped out of the way.

The more we saw of Rotterdam, the more extraordinary did the city
appear, and the more did I wonder that people should refer to it merely
as a port.

"It is not a bad town," Robert said to Phyllis, in the half-fond,
half-deprecating way in which, when talking to strangers, we allude to
that spot of earth we happen to inhabit. "I would not change to live at
The Hague, though the diplomatic set give sneers at us and call us
commercial."

"Just as Edinburgh sneers at Glasgow," cut in Phil.

"Yes, like that. I have been much to Scotland on my business, and I
know," answered Robert. "But we have many good things to show strangers,
if they would look; pictures, and museums, and old streets; but it is
not fashionable to admire Rotterdam. You should see the Boompjes at
night, when the lights shine in the water. It is only a big dyke, but
once it was the part where the rich people lived, and those who know
about such things say the old houses are good. And I should like you to
see where I live with my mother and sisters. It is an old house, too, in
a big garden, with a pond and an island covered with flowers. But we do
not pass now, so you must see it a future day."

To say all this, Cousin Robert had to yell above the roar of traffic on
the stone pavements; but by-and-by, as town changed into country, we
left the stones behind and came into the strangest road I have ever
seen. It ran beside a little river--the Schie--which looked like a
canal, and it was made of neat, purplish-brown bricks, laid edge to
edge.

"Klinker, we ca