A RUN THROUGH HOLLAND.

Like that of all impulsive men, the wrath of Mr. Hamblin was short-lived, though he still felt that he was greatly abused, greatly distrusted, and greatly under-estimated; and the last was the greatest sin of all.  After the first blast of his anger at the final decision of the principal had subsided, he was disposed to be more politic.  Mr. Lowington had snubbed him, which was a great mistake on Mr. Lowington’s part.

Mr. Hamblin knew that he was an older man than the principal, and he felt that he was a wiser one, and his employer ought to consult him, defer to his opinion, and take his advice.  He did not do this to the extent the learned gentleman demanded; and the Academy Ship was the sufferer thereby, not himself.  If Mr. Lowington could stand it, he could, disagreeable as it was.  If Mr. Hamblin had been pecuniarily independent, he would have thrown up his situation, and visited the classic lands alone; but as he was not able to do this, he decided to submit to Mr. Lowington’s caprices, and give the institution the benefit of his valuable services.

If the students had known of this decision, they would have remonstrated against it.  As it was, they protested in their own way.  On Saturday night, after the return of the students from the excursion, while the savant was promenading the deck for his needed exercise, not less than three practical jokes were played off upon him.  The crew were squaring the yards, hauling taut the sheets, lifts, and braces, and putting the deck in order for Sunday.  The professor was tipped over by getting entangled in a piece of rigging, a bucket of water was dashed upon his legs, and a portion of the contents of a slush-tub was poured upon him from the main-top.  No one seemed to see him; the students appeared to be struck with blindness, so far as the learned gentleman was concerned.  It is true that the rogues who pulled the brace, dashed the water, and upset the slush-tub, were immediately committed to the brig; but this did not seem to afford much comfort to the victim.

On Sunday morning it was necessary to commit three more; but the whole six were released in the evening, because they could not sleep in the brig.  Mr. Lowington was annoyed quite as much as the professor; and when Mr. Fluxion came on board, he had a long conversation with him on the subject.

“I was a boy once, Mr. Lowington,” said the vice-principal; “and I am free to say I would not have tolerated such an instructor as Mr. Hamblin.  He hasn’t a particle of sympathy with the students.  He is haughty, stiff, and overbearing.  He is imperious, fretful, snarling, and tyrannical.  In a word, I don’t blame the boys for disliking him.”

“I am conscious that he is not the right person.  In the case of Kendall, he protested against my decision, and had the impudence to tell me that I lacked judgment.  I have engaged him for a year.  What shall I do?” replied the principal.

“I hardly know; but we shall be in trouble as long as he is in the squadron.  We must give the boys fair play, if we expect them to do their duty.”

“I have kept Duncan on board the ship, and I suppose I must punish him,” added Mr. Lowington.  “He plotted mischief, but he has really done nothing.”

“Excuse me,” said Dr. Winstock, as he opened the door, but retreated when he saw that he disturbed a private interview.

“Come in, doctor; I wish to see you,” replied the principal.

The surgeon was admitted to the conference, and the case stated to him.

“The pedagogue of the past is rapidly going out of fashion,” said the doctor.  “Our educational system is progressive, and it will no longer tolerate the teacher who is the petty tyrant he was twenty years ago.  Mr. Hamblin is an old-school pedagogue.  His will is law, which is all right to a certain extent.  The teacher must be the judge between right and wrong; but he must be gentle and kind, and raise no false issues between his pupil and himself.  Mr. Hamblin is not gentle and kind.  He is capricious, wilful, and passionate.”

“I agree with you in regard to Mr. Hamblin; but what shall I do?”

“Discharge him,” replied the doctor, promptly.  “Any instructor who cannot get along with Paul Kendall, without quarrelling, is not fit for his place.  The students of the Josephine have hazed Mr. Hamblin out of pure sympathy for their captain.”

“I have engaged Mr. Hamblin for a year from the 1st of July.”

“I should pay him his salary in full, and let him depart in peace, if he would.”

“We need his services as an instructor.”

“So far as that is concerned, I will volunteer to take the department of mathematics.  I was a tutor in college in that branch for a couple of years.”

Mr. Lowington thanked the surgeon for this offer; and the call to divine service in the steerage terminated the interview.  The principal’s advisers spoke his own opinions; and the only thing that embarrassed him in getting rid of the obnoxious professor was the bad conduct of the students in regard to him.  It was emphatically wrong for them to “haze” an unpopular professor; and Mr. Lowington was not willing to act under apparent compulsion.

The school studies were continued as usual through the forenoon of Monday.  After dinner, dressed in their best uniforms, with bag and blanket, the students were conveyed to the shore for their trip through Holland, which was to occupy three or four days.  The first afternoon was to be occupied in exploring Rotterdam, and, as usual, Paul Kendall and Dr. Winstock kept together.

“This is the Hoogstraat,” said the doctor, when they reached the principal street of the city.

“Does that mean Hog Street?”

“Not at all,” laughed Dr. Winstock.  “It means the High Street.  It is situated on the top of an old dike or dam, built to keep the Maas from overflowing the country behind it.  One of these canals is formed out of the River Rotte.  This stream and this dam gave the name of Rotterdam to the place.”

“Whose statue is that?” asked Paul, when they came to a wide bridge over a broad canal.

“That is the statue of Erasmus, who was born in Rotterdam.”

“Never heard of him.”

“He was a noted theologian and classical scholar, who made his mark in the polemical discussions of Germany and Switzerland in the time of the Reformation.  This is the Groote Markt, or market-place, of Rotterdam,” added Dr. Winstock, when they had crossed the bridge.

It was a great square, in the middle of which the canal widened into a basin for the accommodation of the market boats, by which the meats and vegetables are brought from the country.  There were plenty of dog teams passing in and out of this square, and at rest there, which amused the young Americans hugely.  The vehicle-a little cart or wagon, sometimes large enough to contain four of the great polished brass milk-cans, holding from ten to twenty gallons, and sometimes no bigger than a baby carriage-was generally in charge of a woman.  In some of them the dog was regularly harnessed in a pair of shafts; but in the larger ones there was a division of labor between the driver and the animals.  The woman held the shafts, while the dogs, from two to six in number, were attached to various parts of the vehicle.  If there were but two of them, they generally trotted under the wagon, being harnessed to the axletree; if more than two, the others were hitched on ahead of her, and at each side of her.  The dogs were of all sorts and sizes, and seemed to be patient and well trained in the discharge of their duty.  In some instances, while the woman held the shaft, a stout man walked behind, with a stick in his hand, officiating as general manager of the team, including his “vrow”!

“There’s a row!” shouted Paul, as they approached the banks of the canal.

“That’s not an uncommon scene in Holland,” replied the doctor, laughing.

One of the first-class dog teams had incautiously been conducted too near another team, reposing, after the labors of the day, on the verge of the canal.  Some canine demonstration on the part of the idle dogs, doubtless, excited the ire of the travelling team, and, without asking the woman’s permission, the latter deserted the ranks, so far as their harness would permit, and “pitched into” the others, which sprang to their feet, and met the assailants half way.  All the dogs howled, growled, and barked vehemently, and in a moment the two teams were rolling upon the ground, entangled in their rigging, snapping, biting, and kicking, in mad fury.

The woman seized a stick, and belabored the belligerents with great vigor; but the fight continued, in spite of her, until several women interfered, and dragged the cart of the idlers, clogs and all, out of the reach of the others.  The driver, after severely whipping her charge, unsnarled their rigging, and went on her way.  Paul had to stop and laugh frequently at these dog teams, the animals presented so many different phases of character.  Some of them howled or barked as they trudged along; and many manifested a desire to make the acquaintance of other teams on their way, much to the annoyance of the driver, who would storm at them in Dutch, kick and whip them.

Many of the men, women, and children wore sabots, or wooden shoes, which Paul compared to canal boats, and went clumping and clattering along the streets like champion clog-dancers.  The Flemish cap, worn by some of the peasant women, also amused Paul very much.  From each side of the wearer’s head, near the eye, projected a brass ornament, in the shape of a spiral spring, but each circle diminishing in size till the wire ended in a point, like a gimlet.

In the older parts of the city the tourists found brick buildings whose walls slant outwards, so that the eaves would project eighteen inches over the base, as farmers in New England sometimes build their corn-barns.

Rotterdam contains about as many canals as streets, which are frequently crossed by draw-bridges.  Some of these are handsome iron structures, revolving on a balance, so as to make a passage on each side when open.  Others were raised by heavy framework overhead; and in some of the bridges there was only an opening one or two feet wide, to permit the passing of the vessel’s masts.

After examining the canals and bridges in this part of the city, Paul and the doctor walked to the church of St. Lawrence, which is noted for its great organ, ninety feet high, and containing sixty-five hundred pipes.

“Now, Paul, we will take a carriage and ride up to the park, and go from there to the railway station,” said the doctor, as they left the Groote Kerk.

“What is that man eating?” asked Paul, as they passed through one of the dirtiest parts of the city, where, on the bank of the canal, a woman was standing behind a table loaded down with a heap of shellfish, just as they came from the mud.

The customer was taking them from the shells, drinking at intervals from a cup.

“They are a kind of mussel; I never had confidence enough to taste of them,” laughed the doctor.  “The condiments are in the cup, I suppose.  Do you wish to try them?”

“No, I thank you; my stomach is not lined with zinc, and such a vile mess as that would be too much for it.  Those cakes look better,” added Paul, pointing to a stand where a man and woman were cooking waffles, or flapjacks, which were eaten by the purchasers in a neat little booth.

“Those are very nice,” said the doctor.  “We will try some of them.  You never need have any suspicions of the neatness of these Dutch women.”

They went into the booth, and were soon supplied with a couple of the cakes, hot from the furnace, and covered with powdered white sugar.  Paul agreed that they were very nice.

“The signs amuse me quite as much as any thing else, and I am studying Dutch by their aid,” said Paul, as they continued on their way.

“Read this, then,” added the doctor, handing him a yellow paper bag he picked up in the street, on which was a shopkeeper’s advertisement.

“I can read some of it,” replied Paul; and the reader may help him.

In de Mooriaan.  Deze en meer andere soorten van TABAK, SNUIF, SIGAREN, KOFFIJ, THEE ENZ zijn te bekomen bij D. B. SCHRETLEN, Zandstraat, Wijk 5, N, ROTTERDAM.

“Tobacco, snuff, cigars, coffee-these are plain enough.  What does ’Wijk 5’ mean?”

“That is a division or ward of the city, like E. C. and W. C., in London.”

The carriage was obtained, and they rode to the park, which, however, had no particular attractions.  With the exception of the canals, and the manners and customs of the people, there is little to see in Rotterdam.  On the way they met a funeral, the carriages of which were peculiar; and the driver of the hearse wore a black straw hat, with a brim more than a foot wide, and with great white bands at his neck.

At five o’clock the students had all collected at the station of the Hollandsche Spoorweg, or Holland Railroad; and in twenty minutes the train set them down at Delft, the port from which the Speedwell sailed with a portion of the Pilgrim Fathers of New England.  The name of the town is derived from “delven,” to dig.  It contains twenty thousand inhabitants, and was formerly noted for its pottery manufacture, which was called Delft ware, from this place.

The party went immediately to the Prinsenhof, now a barrack, which was the building in which the Prince of Orange was assassinated.  The spot where the murder took place was pointed out.  A descriptive stone in the wall records the event.  From this place they passed on to the Old Church, nearly opposite, which has a leaning tower, and saw the tomb of Van Tromp, the great Dutch admiral, the hero of thirty-two sea-fights.  In the New Church is the monument of the Prince of Orange.  His statue rests upon it; and at the feet of the great man is represented a little dog.  The inscription was translated by Mr. Mapps, and the allusion to the dog afforded the professor an opportunity to tell a story.

“While the prince was asleep in his camp, near Mechlin, the Spaniards attempted to murder him,” said he, “and would probably have succeeded had if not been for this little dog.  As the assassins approached the tent, the dog discovered them, and jumped upon his master’s bed, barking furiously, and tugging at the clothing with his feet and teeth.  The prince was awakened, and succeeded in making his escape.  When his master was killed, twelve years later, this dog pined away and died.”

“Perhaps he died of old age,” suggested one of the students.

“The story is, that he refused to eat from grief.  I cannot vouch for it; but he was a good dog, and deserves the mention made of him on the tomb.  This church contains the burial-vaults of the present royal family of Holland.”

At six o’clock the train was off for The Hague, and arrived there in fifteen minutes.  On the way, the spire of the church at Ryswick, where the treaty of 1697 mentioned in all the school histories, was framed, was pointed out to the students.  Accommodations had been engaged in the city for the company and they remained here over night.

The Hague, or, as the Dutch call it, S’Gravenhage, and the French La Haye, is the capital, and has a population of eighty-one thousand.  Though it was the residence of the stadtholders in former times, it was only a small village, and its notable features are of modern origin.  Barneveldt was executed and the De Witts murdered here.  The Picture Gallery and the Museum were specially opened for the young Americans.  The works of art were hastily viewed, and the students passed into the Cabinet of Curiosities, of which there is a vast collection, including an immense number of dresses, implements, and models illustrating life in Japan and in China.

Among the historical relics are the armor worn by the admirals De Ruiter and Van Tromp; the portrait and sword of Van Speyk, who blew up his vessel on the Scheldt; a part of the bed of Czar Peter the Great, on which he slept while working at ship-building; the last shirt and waistcoat worn by William III. of England; the dress in which the Prince of Orange was murdered; the pistol of the assassin, with two of the bullets; a model of Peter’s cabin at Zaandam, or Sardam, and many other objects of interest which seemed to bring the distant past before the eye of the beholders.

Early the next morning the students were roaming at will through the city, anxious to see what they could of its handsome streets, the principal of which is the Voorhout, lined with trees, and flanked with splendid edifices.  After breakfast the train bore them on to Leyden.  On the way, at the suggestion of Mr. Fluxion, the train, which was a special, was stopped, and the students were allowed half an hour to explore some beautiful gardens which abounded in this vicinity.  Many of them belonged to the country seats of wealthy gentlemen, and were as magnificent as fairyland itself.

But what pleased Paul more than the gardens of rich men, was an opportunity to visit the house and grounds of a citizen in humbler life.  Mr. Fluxion asked the permission, which was readily granted.

“You needn’t take your shoes off here, as you must in some parts of Holland, before you enter a house; but you must wipe them very carefully,” said the vice-principal.  “The greatest sin against a Dutch housewife is to carry any dirt into her premises.”

Paul made sure that not a particle of dust clung to his feet, and entered the cottage.  It was plainly furnished; but everything was as clean, and white, and neat as though the room had been the interior of the upper bureau drawer.  Dr. Winstock ventured the remark, that Dutch husbands must be the most miserable men in the world, since it could not but be painful to be so excruciatingly nice.

The proprietor of the house had about half an acre of land, which constituted his garden.  It was laid out with winding walks and fanciful plats of ground, filled with the richest-hued flowers.  It contained a pond and a canal, on a small scale; for a Dutchman would not be at home without a water prospect, even if it were only in miniature.  At the end of the garden, overlooking the pond, there was a grotesque little summer house, large enough to accommodate the proprietor and his family.  Here, of a summer afternoon, he smoked his pipe, drank his tea, coffee, or beer, while his wife plied her needle, and the children played at the door.

“What is that inscription on the house?” asked Paul, as they approached the building.

“Mijn genegenheid is voldam,” replied Mr. Fluxion.

“Exactly so!  I understand that, and those are my sentiments,” laughed Paul; “but what does it all mean?”

“‘My desire is satisfied,’” replied the vice-principal.

“He is a happy man if that is so,” added the doctor.

“Many of the Dutch label their garden houses with a sentiment like that,” continued Mr. Fluxion.  “I have seen one somewhere which smacks of Yankee slang-’Niet zoo kwaalijk.’”

“I should say that was slang,” interposed Paul.

“It means, ‘Not so bad.’”

“Well, it isn’t so bad, after all,” added the doctor, glancing back at the “zomerhuis,” as they retired, with many thanks to the proprietor for the privilege granted to them.

The hoarse croaking of the locomotive whistle, which appeared to have a cold in its head, drummed the students together again, and the train proceeded.

“This is the Rhine,” said the doctor, as they went over a bridge.

“The Rhine!” exclaimed Paul, jumping out of his seat.  “Why, it isn’t anything!”

“That is true; but you must remember that this is the old Rhine,-the part which was dug out, robbed of the burden of its waters by the Yssel, the Leck, and the Waal.  The Rhine of Germany is quite another affair.  The mouth of the Rhine is eight miles below Leyden.  It was closed for a thousand years.”

“What became of its waters?  They must have gone somewhere,” said Paul.

“They disposed of themselves in various small streams, and worked their way to the ocean, or soaked into the sands.  The mouth of the river was opened in 1809, by an engineer, under the direction of Louis Napoleon, King of Holland.  But the ocean at high tide was higher than the river, and to prevent the sea from flowing back into the country and disturbing the system of dikes, immense gates were made in the sluiceways constructed for the purpose.  When the tide comes in, these gates are shut.  At low tide they are opened to let the water out.  Indeed, this is true of all the canals, which are provided with gates at each end, like a dock.  The dikes at the mouth of the Rhine are stupendous works; and as the foundation is nothing but sand, they are built on piles, and the face of them is of stone.  This is Leyden.”

“What is there here?” asked Paul, as they got out of the carriage.

“It has about the same sights as Delft, and also a celebrated university; but it is more noted for its siege by the Spaniards, in 1574, than for anything else.  Doubtless Mr. Mapps will fight the battle over again.”

Of course the professor of geography and history could not lose such a glorious opportunity, and in the Stadhuis, where the picture of Peter Vanderwerf, the burgomaster who so bravely defended the place in the memorable siege, was pointed out, he took advantage of the moment.

“The city had held out four months,” said he, after introducing the topic, “when the worst came.  The Prince of Orange had promised to assist the people by supplying them with food; but so close was the blockade of the place by the Spaniards, that it was impossible to do so.  They were reduced to the very verge of starvation.  Dogs, cats, rats, horses, were greedily eaten.  Six thousand of the people died of pestilence, which came with the famine, and there was hardly force enough to bury the dead.  Though pressed and threatened by the citizens, the inflexible burgomaster refused to surrender the town.  At last a couple of carrier pigeons flew into the city, which brought the intelligence that the prince had cut the dikes, and sent Admiral Boiset to their relief when the rising waters should drive the Spaniards away.  But the waters did not rise high enough to enable the admiral to approach, and the people prayed to Heaven for help.  It came.  A storm and a gale forced the waters far up the river to the walls of Leyden.  Boiset, with eight hundred wild Zealanders, fought their way through the Spaniards, perched in the trees, in boats, or in such places above the water as they could find, and made his way into the town.  A thousand of the enemy were drowned.  Leyden was saved, and the people celebrate the day of their deliverance up to the present time.

“As a reward for their bravery and dogged perseverance, the prince gave them the choice of a university or exemption from a portion of their taxes.  They chose the former, and the University of Leyden was the result.”

After a hasty walk to a few of the points of interest in the town, the journey was resumed, and in twenty minutes the party was set down in Harlem.  In the Groote Kerk of St. Bavon, they listened to the playing of another great organ, including imitations of bells, and the vox humana, or “nux vomica,” as some of the students persisted in calling it.  Harlem is famous for its hyacinths and tulips, the passion for which grew out of the great tulip mania, two hundred years ago, when single cuttings of these bulbs were sold for four thousand florins, and even at higher prices.  They are raised not only in gardens, but in fields hundreds of acres in extent; for they are a very important article of commerce, the gardens of Europe being supplied from this vicinity.

Harlem resisted the Spaniards with the same vigor and determination that distinguished Leyden, though with a less fortunate result; and Mr. Mapps was too glad to tell the exciting story.  The town held out till starvation was inevitable, when it was decided by the brave defenders to form in a body around their women and children, and fight their way through the enemy.  The Spaniards, hearing of this scheme, sent in a flag of truce, offering pardon and freedom, if the town and fifty-seven of the chief citizens should be given up.  This number of the principal men volunteered to be the sacrifice, and the terms were accepted; but the bloodthirsty Duke of Alva, having first murdered the fifty-seven citizens, entered upon an indiscriminate massacre of the people, of whom two thousand were slain.  When the executioners were weary with the slaughter, the victims were bound together in couples, and thrown into the Lake of Harlem.  Four years later, the town fell into the hands of the Dutch again.

After the professor had finished the siege of Harlem, the party walked along the Spaarne to the machinery used for draining the low land formerly covered by the lake.  This territory, three hundred years ago, was dry land; but an inundation gave it over to the dominion of the sea.  About twenty-five years ago, the States General of Holland undertook to drain it, by forming a double dike and canal entirely around the district, thirty-three miles in circumference, and containing forty-five thousand acres.  Three huge systems of pumps were erected, to be worked by steam, and the task of discharging an average depth of thirteen feet of water was begun.  After four years’ pumping, the lake was dried up, and the land was sold at the rate of about eighty-five dollars an acre.  The machinery is still required to keep the water down.  One engine works eleven pumps, with a lift of thirteen feet, discharging sixty-three tons of water at a stroke.

The travellers took their places in the train, and in a few minutes were conveyed over the causeways into Amsterdam, in season for the two o’clock dinner.