The National tribune., 1898-10-13

On THE CONTINENT.
Nuremberg is the most charming city in
Deutschland, with it's crooked old streets
| lined with ancient houses, of fantastic
styles of architecture. The roofs are red
| tiled and peaked with little windows In
| them that look like eyes peeTlng out on
strange, new things There are grotesque
vistas of crumbling walls, ramparts and
towers, that tell the story of long past
| feudaI grandeur. The doors of the old
houses are rich with fine carving and
ornaments Of pounded brass.
+! On rocky eminence above the city is
the Kaiserberg, carpeted with IVY Inc
great castle spreading over the oTead
| cliffs with it's broken windows and walls,
has desolate look The moat is dotted
here and there with scarlet poppies, and
| the once -parapete ted walls and solid towers,
now broken in many places, give one
good idea of ye oldcn time.
| The parks are like fower-gardens,
| sheltered under the arches of century-Old
| trees, and a faint odOr of age clings around
| the city, as rose petals retain their scent
after they are withered. And this, too, IN
| spite OF electric tramwayS, whIrling under
old arches and around the towers, all
over the towns queer streets.
Saint Lawrence is the oldest OF the
churches; every pillar bears sculptured
figure of saint, and the shrineS are
| made Of beautiful wood-carving, contain
ing lifc-siZe images OF the Saviour ana
the Virgin. Before the shrines lamps
burn evcTlaStinCly.
In the mornings the rattle of milk and
vegetable carts, drawn by women and
dogs, makes sleep impossible. But above
the clamor of the streets falls the music OF
the bells from the 0verShadowing spires OF
Saint Lawrence Soon the town is filled
with peasants, bringing fruit and vege-
tables to the market that is picturesque
with old world life, and kindly faced
women, with tousled hair and blue cotton
frocks tied down with tape where the
waist-line is supposed to be, sell us fruit.
The skirts worn by these peasant
women vary in length-are anywhere from
the knees down to the unwashed bare
feet. Two women were working on new
building, carrying mortar in two buckets
balanced by yoke across the shoulders
They carry and pound stone on the streets,
with babies nesting close to them. While
we stood at the entrance to the Rath-
haus four bridal parties drove up, and
went up the staircase to have the civil
marriage ceremony performed. Gun
ously enough, the brides were all
gowned in black and wore white walls
The victims were accompanied by their
various paternal and maternal relatives.
There was an emotional overflow. the
waterworkS were turned on by the women
and one Teutonic bridegroom exploded in
a fiendish "Ach Gott i'll Himmci.
The Antwerp chimes ring out every
hour from the Spire Of stone, cut like
laceWork that crowns the great cathe-
drai The music Of the bcils-there are
50 of them-seems to ripple down from the
clouds. They charm one into dreamiand;
they charm one from sleep and life takes
on roster hues when the liquid notes en-
trance the listening ear.
Three centuries ago Antwerp'S mer@
chants were Princes, and their homes
were palaces, but now the towers and
picturesque red-tiles are being swept out
Of existence by modern architects and
architecture. But the cathedral under
the bells" is unchanged The great
pulpit is one mass OF wood-carying, and
TOW OF carved-wood apostles and holy
men adorns one side of the monstrOusly-
large building, guarding the confessional
stalls while in the carved garIandS all
about the rose appears that assures that
all naughty secrets told by fair penitentS
to their Father Confessors are absolutely
sub rosa.
Rubens'S masterpieces are in the Ant
werp cathedral. and at II o'clock every
day the great pictures are solemnly un-
vailed with the air of the rolling up of the
curtain in d down town theater. There IS
Rubens' IS Descent From the Cross, and
The Resurrection, The Ascension
and Saint Francis, by Murllo; and the
green baize curtains roll up for Murillo S
as well as for the Rubens paintings ON
the presentation OF "a franc.
The house where Rubens lived and
died in is still standing in Rubens street.
The Summer-house where he painted
and a tree he planted still remains. The
city is picturesque to our American eyes.
There are quaint figures sitting on
benches, knitting and watching the ship
ping and fisher-boys coming in with
baskets full of the "finny tribe i"
and each shadow in the water
a
Pleasant gIimpses of the Belgian peas
ants are seen on the way back to the
hotel Blue-bloused and barefooted, they