a grinning negro, this being the sign for
such merchandise as tobacco and drugs.

Here and there doorways were embellished with shiny brass knockers of
good form, and outside one shop was a tempting array of cool green
earthenware bowls of such beautiful shape that I passed them by with
great longing.

Soon this street made a turning, where there was a good bronze statue to
some dignitary or other, and I caught a glimpse of that wondrous tower
of the famous Hotel de Ville, the mate to that at Louvain, and soon I
was beneath its Gothic walls, bearing row upon row of niches, empty now,
but once containing effigies of the powerful lords and ladies of
Flanders. These rows rise tier upon tier to that exquisitely slender
lace-like tower crowned with a large gilded statue of the town's patron,
pennant in hand, and shining in the sunlight.

From the Inn of the "Golden Apple of Oudenaarde" just opposite, I
appraised its beauties over a good meal of young broiled chicken and
lettuce salad, and a bowl of "_cafe au lait_" that was all satisfying.

Afterwards, the _custode_, an old soldier, showed us the "Salle des Pas
Perdus," containing a fine chimney piece alone worth the journey from
Antwerp, and the Council Chamber, still hung with some good ancient
stamped leather, and several large badly faded and cracked Spanish
paintings of long forgotten dignitaries both male and female.

[Illustration: The Town Hall: Oudenaarde]

One Paul Van Schelden, a wood carver of great ability and renown,
wrought a wonderful doorway, which was fast falling apart when I saw it.
This gave access to a large room, the former Cloth Hall, now used as a
sort of theatre and quite disfigured at one end by a stage and scenic
arch. The walls were stenciled meanly with a large letter A surmounted
by a crown. The interior had nothing of interest to show.

On the opposite side of the square was the large old church of St.
Walburga, with a fine tower capped by a curious upturned bulbous cupola,
upon which was a large gilt open-work clock face. As usual, there was a
chime of bells visible, and a flock of rooks circling about the tower.
The style of St. Walburga was Romanesque, with Gothic tendencies. Built
in the twelfth century, it suffered severely at the hands of the
Iconoclasts, and even in its unfinished state was very impressive, none
the less, either, because of the rows of small stucco red roofed houses
which clung to its walls, leaving only a narro