“They speak of this and that, and everything, but not a word of love is uttered.  If the girl lets the fire go down, it is a sign she does not care for the lad, and won’t have him for a husband.  If, on the contrary, she heaps fuel on the fire, he knows that she loves him and means to accept him for her affianced husband.  In the first case, all the poor lad has to do is to open the door and retire, and never put his foot in the house again.  But, in the other, he knows it is all right, and from that day forward he is treated as if he belonged to the family.’

“‘And how long does the engagement last?’

“’Oh, about as long as everywhere else—­two, three years, more or less, and that is the happiest time of their lives.  The lad takes his girl about everywhere; they go to the kermis, skate, and amuse themselves, and no one troubles or inquires about them.  Even the girl’s parents allow her to go about with her lover without asking any questions.’”

A Dutch proverb says, “Take a Brabant sheep, a Guelderland ox, a Flemish capon and a Frisian cow”.  The taking of the Frisian cow certainly presents few difficulties, for the surface of Friesland is speckled thickly with that gentle animal—­ample in size and black and white in hue.  The only creatures that one sees from the carriage windows on the railway journey are cows in the fields and plovers above them.  Now and then a man in his blue linen coat, now and then a heron; but cows always and plovers always.  Never a bullock.  The meadows of Holland are a female republic.  Perkin Middlewick (in Our Boys) had made so much money out of pork that whenever he met a pig he was tempted to raise his hat; the Dutch, especially of North Holland and Friesland, should do equal homage to their friend the cow.  Edam acknowledges the obligation in her municipal escutcheon.

Stavoren may be dull and unalluring, but not so Hindeloopen, the third station on the railway to Leeuwarden, where we shall stay.  At Hindeloopen the journey should be broken for two or three hours.  Should, nay must.  Hindeloopen (which means stag hunt) has been called the Museum of Holland.  All that is most picturesque in Dutch furniture and costume comes from this little town—­or professes to do so, for the manufacture of spurious Hindeloopen cradles and stoofjes, chairs and cupboards, is probably a recognised industry.

In the museum at Leeuwarden are two rooms arranged and furnished exactly in the genuine Hindeloopen manner, and they are exceedingly charming and gay.  The smaller of the two has the ordinary blue and white Dutch tiles, with scriptural or other subjects, around the walls to the height of six feet; above them are pure white tiles, to the ceiling, with an occasional delicate blue pattern.  The floor is of red and brown tiles.  All the furniture is painted very gaily upon a cream or white background—­with a gaiety that has a touch of the Orient in it.  The bed is hidden behind painted woodwork in the wall, like a berth, and is gained by a little flight of movable steps, also radiant.  I never saw so happy a room.  On the wall is a cabinet of curios and silver ornaments.