The San Francisco call., 1896-10-04
A Little Fat Queen
and Her Big
Jubilee
Nesdag's Gallery and
the Dangers Of
Wheeling in
Holland

THE HAGUE, HOLLAND. Sept. l6.-on
the map of Europe Holland occupies such
q little space, just little corner that
might be clipped from an outlying section
of California and never be missed. From
Rotterdam in the south TO Amsterdam in
the north an express train shoots over the
level country in one hour and fifteen
minutes. From the windows You may
catch a glimpse of Delft, with its wind
mills and canals and waving green trees,
perpetuated in blue and white ware in the
great factories near the station. Another
expanse of deep green fields, cut by tiny
rivers of water, and the train goes thunder
ing into The Hague, IS Gravenhage, to be
more correct and great deal more Dutch.
People tumble out of the carriages, there
is great deal of slamming and banging
of doors, shouting and calling in the stem
torian and cultural Dutch tongue, and
away goes the train through the imposing
streets of the mipiature capital, past the
trees of the little Queens park, out again
into the Intern Unable fiat fields, with the
cones of fax in vanishing perspective,
and at the END shimmering gray-green
cloud, low on the horizon, that may mean
smoke. but in reality is the sea, beating
on the long white beaches of Scheven-
ingen.
Suddenly the country begins to blaze.
From dim and gray and wet green it
turns to vivid scarlet, golden yellow,
purple, violet and creamy white. Haar-
lem and the tulip-beds are in the distance.
The tulips are as impossibly bright as the
flowers in carpet; they look unreal.
INT ha in ctn fnr hraafh nd
more passengers little boys and girls with
light northern eyes and tow hair under
black and white caps besiege each COM
partment and for the merest trife, for
nothing at all, "Meguffrouw" or "Myn-
heer," they will part with lunches of the
most tangible, thick, soft flowers. fastened
together securely with wisp of nay, and
a disregard to color that may put fas-
tidious teeth on edge.
at last the train is off again and in
an incred bly, short time you are zigzagging
your way through the complicated narrow
streets of Amsterdam. In less than one
hour and half you have crossed the prin-
cipal part of Holland. The brave little
country is justly proud of itself, of its he
roic history, of its past and present pros
perity, of its great men and it's
great pictures, of its past hardships and
battles and struggles with human enemies
and the more deadly dangers of the storm
and the sea. And above all 1t is proud of
its little plump and pretty fair-haired
Queen. On the 31st of August all Holland
celebrated the royal birthday, the fifteenth
or sixteenth at the most. In the villages
the schoolmasters led their hocks in
bright orange sashes, with orange cock
ades in their boys caps and orange mari
colds in wreaths around every little girls
sunburned face. Down each street they
pattered, making the noise of whole
troop of cavalry, and wherever there was
an inn or an important farmhouse the
whole cavalcade stopped, and standing as
straight as their little bow legs and their
enormous klumpen will permit, there
poured forth their infant souls in patriotic
songs with a lung power that was enviable,
especially at distance. Then they burst
into shrill cheers and shouted:
'Lang ieve de KoniginT
This ended the ceremony so far as the
singing is concerned, but the reward must
be Immediately forthcoming or an awful
gloom settles upon each face. The reward
is in the shape of very small, round cakes,
as hard as bullets; in fact, they would
indisputably have saved the dav at Bunker
Hill if they had been used as ammunition.
The cakes never fail, however, ultimately
to restore the general cheerfulness, and
they march on with radiant faces and full
mouths, giving muffled cheers for every
body. The Queen herself can hardly be
happier than these very small subjects.