with its shining brass lid, looked
the concentrated essence of a Hollander, and might have been hung out,
as a sign of the country, from the steeple of Haarlem.

The interior was in perfect keeping with the designation of the
building: every appliance that could suggest ease, if not sleep, was
there; the chairs were deep, plethoric-looking, Dutch chairs, that
seemed as if they had led a sedentary life, and throve upon it; the
table was a short, thick-legged one, of dark oak, whose polished surface
reflected the tall brass cups, and the ample features of Mynheer, and
seemed to hob-nob with him when he lifted the capacious vessel to his
lips; the walls were decorated with quaint pipes, whose large porcelain
bowls bespoke them of home origin; and here and there a sea-fight, with
a Dutch three-decker hurling destruction on the enemy. But the genius of
the place was its owner, who, in a low fur cap and slippers, whose shape
and size might have drawn tears of envy from the Ballast Board, sat
gazing upon the canal in a state of Dutch rapture, very like apoplexy.
He motioned me to a chair without speaking--he directed me to a pipe, by
a long whiff of smoke from his own--he grunted out a welcome, and then,
as if overcome by such unaccustomed exertion, he lay back in his chair,
and sighed deeply.

We smoked till the sun went down, and a thicker haze, rising from the
stagnant ditch, joined with the tobacco vapour, made an atmosphere, like
mud reduced to gas. Through the mist, I saw a vision of soup tureens,
hot meat, and smoking vegetables. I beheld as though Mynheer moved among
the condiments, and I have a faint dreamy recollection of his performing
some feat before me; but whether it was carving, or the sword exercise,
I won't be positive.

Now, though the schiedam was strong, a spell was upon me, and I could
not speak; the great green eyes that glared on me through the haze,
seemed to chill my very soul; and I drank, out of desperation, the
deeper.

As the evening wore on, I waxed bolder: I had looked upon the Dutchman
so long, that my awe of him began to subside, and I at last grew bold
enough to address him.

I remember well, it was pretty much with that kind of energy, that
semi-desperation, with which a man nerves himself to accost a spectre,
that I ventured on addressing him: how or in what terms I did it, heaven
knows! Some trite every-day observation about his great knowledge of
life--his wonderful experience of th