The new dominion. [volume] (Morgantown, W. Va.) 1876-1904, 1884-08-30
Along the Holland bikes.

| oklrtlng along the dlkes, we had q
good opportunity of seeing some of the
incessant toll, some of the constant
engineering and battling with the sea,
to keep it at anything like safe dis
lance. The dike-workers are distinct
class, a guild, in fact, jealous of their
craft and its rights and privileges. II
is not the first-comer who may be a
regular dike-worker, even if 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 embankmcnt,
ever refacing 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 bind
ing bent-grass was coaxed to grow.
Every little tuft was watched and
tended as if it was some choice tulip.
The top of the dixie formed level, firm
road, stretching away for miles. The
sea looked SO mild and gray and inno-
cent as it gently Tapped the edges of
the mighty barriers that it seemed an
effort to fancy it an enemy capable OF
mischief The breezes were simply
delicious and fresh, coming over the
wide North Sea- Inland, the scenery
was flat and grim and serious Farm
steads in the far distance looked green
and fat enough. Sheep and kline were
plentiful about the rich fields. Just
over the edge of the dikes were the
little scattered hamlets of the fisher
people and the poldermen; the dixie
xrro Dor I'D -
camping out here and there
as their work called them
from one point to another. Some
times the wind had blown up and the
seas tossed up great long meandering
mounds of sand, helping to back and
strengthen the bikes. On these billowy
hillOcks the grass was carefully planted
jim little regular tufts, and stunted pines
were set wherever the tempest would
spare them to grow. All sorts of bind
ing vegetation were carefully protected.
The very children knew enough to let
it alone. We stopped at
Zoutland, and climbed to the top of the
dunes to look about us and sniffthe sea-
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 its
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 characteristic expression one re.
marks 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 fol
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. cottage win
dow lights we're twinkling IN the gloom,
as evening was just coming on. The
church bell was tolling for evening serv-
ice and the warm glow of sunset Just
touched the top of its tower. Through
the tall lancet windows one could see
flush Of warm lan,plight within. All
sounds and sights were Of peace and
calm, and yet there somehow came
upon the imagination the grim reverse
Of the picture; the changing 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 seriousness Of the place.
MagGzins.