The age-herald., 1900-07-24

Saturday saw the outside of the houses being treated to another bath, concluded that it is an everyday occurrence Noth- ing escapes. Brass milk-cans gleam from their drying posts; wooden shoes hang on pegs in the sun, ready for their extra fin- ish of white-wash; snowy linen lies on the grass; and tables stand timidly out in the yards, recovering their equilibrium after the many thumps and jerks they have endured Last, but by no means least, comes the attack on the children. It is easy to tell when this has been made, for the usual ruddy cheeks acquire a deeper flush, and shine as if they have been var nished.
 Doubtless this extra glow comes from the mothers remorse at having neglected them during the hours she spent over her pots and pans.
 The women wear flowing caps oe white, very pretty on week days, but hideous on Sundays, when, to be stylish, they don their hats on top of these, and go to kirk" confident that their toilets are faultess.
 Rijsoord boasts two 'kirks." Of course they eye each other askance, and if the peaceful river did not flow between, l am sure the orthodox congregation" would feel the whitening scorn of the other.
 In order to keep up their reputation for energy, the populace rises early on Sunday and services begin at 9:30 ending at Il, and beginning again at in the afternoon An other oddity lies in the hours for the older school children. They are from 1 in the af- ternoon until night.
 Its all queer, this sleepy land, with it's red tiled roofs and wind-swept fields, dot ted with mills that stretch their wild arms into the air on every side.
 In the meadows, gentle looking, black and-white cows feed lazily on the butter cups, and never show any desire to jump the sloats that divide the fields. It seems quite possible for them to do so; but our vrouw assures us it is not easy, and is con- stantly warning us against attempting it. She relates sad experiences of former lodg CTS who tried to jump from one green bank to the other, and found, when they reached the supposed bank, that it was only a mass of water-cress with three feet of water and two of mud beneath.
 Of course the river is above the level of the fields-it is always The dykes make pretty roads as they follow the waters windings Clumsy barges with buge red brown sails pass now and then. Along the banks the usual small boy fishes to his hearts content while women wash clothes from platforms built out over the water.
 Dog carts rattle along over the bricks, with big Dutchman or two on top, be- sides load within that seems incredible for a small doy to pull. There is but one dog in the village who puts on airs enough to be a gentleman of leasure. How he gained his position in society is a mystery to me. He seems to take wicked spite on the other poor creatures by giving every possible evidence of his freedom when they are near.
 Passing down the streets of the village, one sees at the doorways countless wooden shoes of all sizes, left there when their owners passed in. The interiors gleam with brass kettles and pans, and in the walls are queer ubbard-arrangements, which, on investigation, prove to be beds No fresh air theory for these people! There is tax on windows, so the number is not great, and besides at night they are closed with great wooden shutters outside.
 After the sun has gone and the long twilight comes, things grow still; and the cool air seems filled with a sweet rest La borers come from the fields with their long scythes over their shoulders; the village noises are hushed; and away across the meadows comes the hoarse cry of some river bird that calls far into the night
 Soon the village sleeps; and all is hushed until at in the morning comes that quaint parsonage called the "klapper man." who, tapping on the door of each house, arouses the inmates to another busy day.
 ALICE E. RUMPH