. From the log of the Velsa. n long sleeves and deprive them-selves of a few underskirts, and all the old, joUymen with spreading white beards will cry out thatwomen are unsexed and that the end of the worldis nigh. In another house I bought a fishermansknitted blue jersey of the finest quality, as beingthe sole garment capable of keeping me warm in aDutch summer. I was told that the girl whoknitted it received only half a gulden for her sweating, which ought never to havebeen countenanced. StUl, I bought the jersey. At six-thirty next day we were under way—anew ship, as it se
. From the log of the Velsa. n long sleeves and deprive them-selves of a few underskirts, and all the old, joUymen with spreading white beards will cry out thatwomen are unsexed and that the end of the worldis nigh. In another house I bought a fishermansknitted blue jersey of the finest quality, as beingthe sole garment capable of keeping me warm in aDutch summer. I was told that the girl whoknitted it received only half a gulden for her sweating, which ought never to havebeen countenanced. StUl, I bought the jersey. At six-thirty next day we were under way—anew ship, as it seemed to me. Yachts may haveleaks, but we were under way, and the heavenlysmell of bacon was in the saloon; and there had beenno poring over time-tables, no tipping of waiters,no rattling over cobbles in omnibuses, no waiting inarctic railway-stations, no pugnacity for cornerseats, no checking of baggage. I was wakened bythe vibration of the propeller; I clad myself in atoga, and issued forth to laugh good-by at sleeping 20. WRITING HOME VOYAGING ON THE CANALS Veere—^no other formalities. And all along thequay, here and there, I observed an open windowamong the closed ones. Each open window de-noted for me an English water-colorist sleeping,even as she or he had rushed about the quay, with anunconcealed conviction of spiritual, moral, andphysical superiority. It appeared to me monstrousthat these English should be so ill bred as to inflicttheir insular notions about fresh air on a historicContinental town. Every open window was an ar-rogant sneer at Dutch civilization, was it not?Surely they could have slept with their windowsclosed for a few weeks! Or, if not, they mighthave chosen Amsterdam instead of Veere, and prac-tised their admirable Englishness on the VictorianTea-Room in that city. We passed into the Veeregat and so into thebroad Roompot Channel, and left Veere. It wasraining heavily, but gleams near the horizon al-lowed me to hope that before the day was out Imight
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1914
