ade Nymwegen their home.

Within the stadhuis is another of the beautiful justice halls which
Holland possesses in such profusion, the most interesting of which
we saw at Kampen. Kampen's oak seats are not, however, more beautiful
than those of Nymwegen; and Kampen has no such clock as stands here,
distilling information, tick by tick, of days, and years, and sun,
and moon, and stars. The stadhuis has also treasures of tapestry
and Spanish leather, and a museum containing a very fine collection
of antiquities, including one of the famous wooden petticoats of
Nymwegen--a painted barrel worn as a penance by peccant dames.

From Nymwegen the train took me to Hertzogenbosch, or Bois le Duc,
the capital of Brabant. It is from Brabant, we were told by a proverb
which I quoted in my first chapter on Friesland, that one should
take a sheep. Great flocks of sheep may be seen on the Brabant moors,
exactly as in Mauve's pictures. They are kept not for food, for the
Dutch dislike mutton, but for wool.

Bois le Duc has the richest example of mediaeval architecture in
Holland--the cathedral of St. John, a wonderful fantasy in stone,
rich not only without, but, contrary to all Dutch precedent, within
too; for we are at last again among a people who for the most part
retain the religion of Rome. The glass of the cathedral is poor,
but there is a delicate green pattern on the vaulting which is very
charming. The koster is proudest of the pulpit, and of a figure of
the Virgin "which is carried in procession through the town every
evening between July 7th and 16th".

But I was not interested so much in particular things as in the
cathedral as a whole. To be in the midst of this grey Gothic
environment was what I desired, and after a little difficulty I
induced the koster to leave me to wander alone. It was the first
church in Holland with the old authentic thrill.

Bois le Duc (as it is more simple to call it) is a gay town with
perhaps the most spirited market place in the country. The stalls have
each an awning, as in the south of Europe, and the women's heads are
garlanded with flowers. I like this method of decoration as little
as any, but it carries with it a pleasant sense of festivity.

From Bois le Duc one may go due north to Utrecht and Amsterdam, passing
on the way Bommel, with its tall and impressive tower rising from its
midst. Or one may keep to the western route and reach Walcheren. That
is my present course, and Bomm