Hilversum is the Chislehurst of Holland—­a discreet and wealthy suburb, where business men have their villas amid the trees.  It is a pleasant spot, excellent from which to explore.

The author of Through Noord-Holland thus describes Laren, which lies a few miles from Hilversum and is reached by tram:  “Surrounded by arable land and hilly heathery it is richly provided with picturesque spots; country-seats, villas, ordinary houses and farms are following one another.  For those who are searching for rest and calmness is this village very recommendable.”  But to say only that is to omit Laren’s principal claim to distinction—­its fame as the home of Anton Mauve.

No great painter of nature probably ever adapted less than Mauve.  His pictures, oils and water-colours alike, are the real thing, very true, very beautiful, low-toned, always with a touch of wistfulness and melancholy.  He found his subjects everywhere, and justified them by the sympathy and truth of his exquisite modest art.

Chiefly he painted peasants and cows.  What a spot of red was to Corot, the blue linen jacket of the Dutch peasant was to his disciple.  I never hear the name of Mauve without instantly seeing a black and white cow and a boy in a blue jacket amid Holland’s evening green.

At Laren Mauve’s fame is kept sweet by a little colony of artists, who like to draw their inspiration where the great painter drew his.

North of Laren, on the sea coast, is the fishing village of Huizen, where the women have a neat but very sedate costume.  They wear white caps with curved sides that add grace to a pretty cheek.  Having, however, the odd fancy that a flat chest is more desirable than a rounded one, they compress their busts into narrow compass, striving as far as possible to preserve vertical lines.  At the waist a plethora of petticoats begins, spreading the skirts to inordinate width and emphasising the meagreness above.

The sombre attire of the Huizen women is a contrast to most of the traditional costumes of Holland, which are charming, full of gay colour and happy design.  The art of dress seems otherwise to be dead in Holland to-day; In the towns the ordinary conventional dress is dull; and in the country it is without any charm.  Holland as a whole, omitting the costumes, cannot be said to have any more knowledge of clothes than we have.  It is only by the blue linen jackets of the men in the fields that the situation is saved and the Dutch are proved our superiors.  How cool and grateful to the eyes this blue jacket can be all admirers of Mauve’s pictures know.

Naarden and Muiden are curiously mediaeval.  The steam-tram has been rushing along for some miles, past beer gardens and villas, when suddenly it slows to walking pace as we twist in and out over the bridges of a moat, and creeping through the tunnel of a rampart are in the narrow streets of a fortified town.  Both Naarden and Muiden are surrounded by moats and fortifications.