A few little neighbouring towns it is practically necessary to visit from Amsterdam; and for the most part, I take it, Leyden and Haarlem are made the object of excursions either from Amsterdam or The Hague, rather than places of sojourn, although both have excellent quiet inns much more to my taste than anything in the largest city.  Indeed I found Amsterdam’s hotels exceedingly unsatisfactory; so much so that the next time I go, when the electric railway to Haarlem is open, I am proposing to invert completely the usual process, and, staying at Haarlem, study Amsterdam from there.

For the time being, however, we must consider ourselves at Amsterdam, branching out north or south, east or west, every morning.

A very interesting excursion may be made to Hilversum, returning by the steam-tram through Laren, Naarden and Muiden.  The rail runs at first through flat and very verdant meadows, where thousands of cows that supply Amsterdam with milk are grazing; and one notices again the suddenness with which the Dutch city ends and the Dutch country begins.  Our English towns have straggling outposts:  new houses, scaffold poles, cottages, allotments, all break the transition from city to country; the urban gives place to suburban, and suburban to rural, gradually, every inch being contested.  But the Dutch towns—­even the great cities—­end suddenly; the country begins suddenly.

In England for the most part the cow comes to the milker; but in Holland the milker goes to the cow.  His first duty is to bind the animal’s hind legs together, and then he sets his stool at his side and begins.  Anton Mauve has often painted the scene—­so often that at milking time one looks from the carriage windows at a very gallery of Mauves.  I noticed this particularly on an afternoon journey from Amsterdam to Hilversum, between the city and Weesp, where the meadows (cricket grounds manques) are flat as billiard tables.

The train later runs between great meres, some day perhaps to be reclaimed, and then dashes into country that resembles very closely our Government land about Woking and Bisley—­the first sand and firs that we have seen in Holland.  It has an odd and unexpected appearance; but as a matter of fact hundreds of square miles of Holland in the south and east have this character; while there are stretches of Dutch heather in which one can feel in Scotland.

All about Naarden and Hilversum are sanatoria, country-seats and pleasure grounds, the softening effect of the pines upon the strong air of the Zuyder Zee being very beneficial.  Many of the heights have towers or pavilions, some of which move the author of Through Noord-Holland to ecstasies.  As thus, of the Larenberg:  “The most charming is the tower, where one can enjoy a perspective that only rarely presents itself.  We can see here the towers of Nijkerk, Harderwijk, Utrecht, Amersfoort, Bunschoten, Amsterdam and many others.”  And again, of a wood at Heideheuvel:  “The perspective beauty here formed cannot be said in words”.