The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1884-08-28
THE DIKEs OF HOLLAND.
An Incessant Toll and Vigilance by
Which Safety is Secured.

Skirt1ng along tho dikcs we had n
good opportunity of seeing some of the
incessant toll, some of the constant
engineering and battling with the sea
TO keep 10 az anything like safe dis
tance. The dikes about this island
are. perhaps. the finest, the most con-
stantly guarded in all the country.
The dike-workers are distinct class
guild, In fact. Jealous of their craft
and its rights and privileges. 1t is
not the first conner who may be regu-
lar dike-worker, even il he should wish
to be. We saw great gangs of them
going from point TO point with pick and
shovel, ever on the lookout for weak
spots in the great cmbankment, ever
rcfacing it with miles of concrete. and
strengthening every point with strong
groinS running into the sea.
1t was almost pathetic to note with
what solicitude every blade of the
binding bent-grass was coaXed to
grow. Every iiilc tuft was watched
and tended us il it was some choice
tulip. The top of the dixie formed u
level, firm road. s retching away for
miles. The sea loUned so mild, and
gay, and innocent rs it gently Tapped
the edges of the mighty barriers, that
it seemed an effort TO fancy it an enemy
capable of mischief. The breczcs were
simply delicious and fresh, coming
over the wide North Sea. Inland, the
scenery was fiat and grim, and seri-
GUS. Farmsteads In tho far distance
looked green and fat enough. Sheep
and kline werc plentiful about the rich
fields. just over the edge of the dikes
were the little scattered hamlets of the
tisher-people and poldermen: the dixie
workers livod more of rowing life,
, camping out here and there. as their
work called them from one point to
another. Sometimes the wind had
blown up and the seas tossed up great
long meandering mounds of sand,
hOlping to back and strengthen the
dikes. On these billowy hillocks the
grass was carefully planted in little
regular tufts. and stunted pines We're
set wherever the tempest would spare
them to grow. All sorts of binding
vegetation were carefully protected.
The very children knew enough to let
it alone.
We stopped atZoutland, and climbed
to the top of the dunes to look about
Us and sniff the sen-breeze. Down far
below US lay the village-so far, that
had the waters swept over the rim of
! the sandy dixie, the sea would have
| only reached it's level when it played
about the tail of the weather-cock on
the gray old church-tower. There are
watchers ever on the lookout, day and
! night, calm and storm. No wonder
| that the set, anxious look one sees on
every face, that seems to be born with
every babe, should be the only char
acteristic expression one remarks
among the people here!
When the watchers of the dikes see
danger. the alarm-bell Is rung, and
every soul either flies to the dikes for
safety, or to help the gangs of workers
to stop the threatened breach. All
was calm enough at that moment, the
tide was far out, and yet the village
seemed far below its level. The cottage
window lights were twinkling in the
gloom as evening was just coming on.
The church-bell was tolling for even
ing service. and the warm glow of sun
set just touched the top of its tower
Through the tall lancet-windows one
could see IA flush of warm lamp-light
within. All sounds and sights were of
peace and calm, and yet there some
how came upon the imagination the
grim reverse of the picture; the ciang-
ing alarm bell. the hurrying TO and fro,
the wild fight for safety from the mad,
hungry sea. We were feeling deadly
oppressed by the prevailing serious
ness of the place. George H. BJughton.
tW Havpcr's NdgaziI1e.