uncommon thing for a Friesland woman to have all the family treasure
in her head-gear. More than one rustic lass displayed the value of two
thousand guilders upon her head that day.

Scattered throughout the crowd were peasants from the Island of
Marken, with sabots, black stockings, and the widest of breeches; also
women from Marken, with short blue petticoats, and black jackets gayly
figured in front. They wore red sleeves, white aprons, and a cap like
a bishop's mitre over their golden hair.

The children, often, were as quaint and odd-looking as their elders.
In short, one-third of the crowd seemed to have stepped bodily from a
collection of Dutch paintings.

Everywhere could be seen tall women, and stumpy men, lively-faced
girls, and youths whose expression never changed from sunrise to
sunset.

There seemed to be at least one specimen from every known town in
Holland. There were Utrecht water-bearers, Gouda cheese-makers, Delft
pottery-men, Schiedam distillers, Amsterdam diamond-cutters, Rotterdam
merchants, dried-up herring-packers, and two sleepy-eyed shepherds
from Texel. Every man of them had his pipe and tobacco-pouch. Some
carried what might be called the smoker's complete outfit,--a pipe,
tobacco, a pricker with which to clean the tube, a silver net for
protecting the bowl, and a box of the strongest of brimstone-matches.

A true Dutchman, you must remember, is rarely without his pipe on any
possible occasion. He may, for a moment, neglect to breathe; but, when
the pipe is forgotten, he must be dying, indeed. There were no such