The Opelousas courier., 1891-09-19
LIFE AMONG TEL!
AS SEEN T
AMERICANS u

a : ::::: :::s Es:::::;I
The Dutch, writes an
eler in the Chicago Herr
patriotic. They are Hf
glad Of it. They are +
little country which thexx rKn0
from the sea at such ensS X
and which has played sol nIA
in the worlds history. The
teous people, a triie slow al
ing, perhaps, but thorough anu
ical in all things. They have
old manners of living and of dress
greater extent than any other people on
the regular lines of tourist travel. Take,
for example, the little village of Marker,
only an hours ride from Amsterdam by
the most curious steam tramway ever
seen out of Holland, a road where the
conductor gets off the cars and walks
ahead of the engine to emove wheel
barrows, children's toys and other mat
tiers which have been left On the tracks.
The people of Marker dress precisely as
the great grandtathers did a hundred and
fifty years ago, the men in big, baggy
knee breeches, long knitted stockings,
sabots and short jackets; the women in
volumiuous skirts and curious jackets,
with strange silver and gold ornaments.
1t is a quiet little fishing village, and,
though it has nearly 200 fishing boats
| and supplies the city of Amsterdam with
most of its fish, its thriving business has
not taken the bloom off its primitive
simplicity.
Here one can see the quaint Dutch in
teriors that Jan Van Steen loved to paint
the shelves laden with genuine old
| blue and white deli, the high, carved
linen cupboards of black oak, the queer
box bedsteads and shining brass and cop
| per ware in shapes and quantities sufi-
| Gent to drive the collector wild. These
treasures are not for sale, and on the
rare occasions when a fisherman of Mar
ken can be persuaded to part with a blue
| plate or a brass warming pan the collec-
tor speedily discovers that, despite the
| apparent simplicity Of the knee-breecned
| Dutchman, he is thoroughly posted as to
market prices of the antique and charges
a round advance upon the rates of the
dealers of London or New York. Even
further from the lines of travel, in the
| fishing villages of Friesland, the collec-
tor has been over the ground, and a GU
rious ~disproportlon exists between the
| prices demanded for a bit of old deli
and the dinner which is often served on
it. A literary friend of mine lived for
| some months in a cottage in one of these
| villages-and lived well, he asserts
| sleeping in a carved bedstead for which
the owner had refused $3.50, eating of
plates for which S. and SO had been
offered, stirring his coffee with spoons
| which could be sold at any time for So
apiece, and he paid less than $40 a
month for his board, lodging and wash
ing.
The hotels in the smaller continental
towns always remind me Of a travelling
theatrical troupe. The members of the
company t.double up" SO to speak, and
each plays several parts in the course OF
the day For example, you will be met
at the station by a gorgeous fuuctionary
in uniform, gold lace, brass buttons and
all that sort of thing; he is the runner
and he takes care of your luggage and
sees you safely in the bus. At the hotel
a party in evening dress assigns you
your room and performs the duties OF
the room clerk of an American hotel.
| Later you find the room clerk acting as
waiter; the runner, now shorn of his
| gold lace and brass buttons and clad in
somber black, is the wine steward. I've
seen even worse than this. / once
stopped at a place where the proprietor
came to the station, assigned the rooms
and acted as head waiter, while the man
who drove the bus carried the trunks
upstairs, helped wait at the table and
| drew three kinds of wine out of one
cask, and it wasn't a half bad house
either. The proprietorial Pooh Bah was
a lively little Swiss; he spoke English,
German, Spanish, Italian and several
minor dialects very badly, and when he.
got excited he spoke them all indiscrim-
inately, which was highly amusing to
listen to as a disinterested auditor, but
very confusing if you happened to be q
party to the conversation