By the Way: Travel Letters Written During Several Journeys Abroad

by Agness Greene Foster

Their Art is a joy,

But a bête noire their money.

AMSTERDAM:

I have actually found some places that I do not like, and it is well, for I have used up all my adjectives and exclamations. I did not care for Zurich, and many of the Rhine towns found no favor in my eyes. I saw most of them only from the river about which we have heard so much that, naturally, it failed in the realization of my anticipations,—besides, it rained much of the time.

I overheard a conversation between two American girls on the boat up—or down—the Rhine. Every time I say "up" the other person says, "Down, wasn't it?" and when I change it to "down," I am asked, "Up, wasn't it?"

The first girl was saying, in a strenuous manner, "I saw EVERY church in Rome!"

"Ah, indeed! How long a time did you spend in Rome? You know, do you not, that there are over four hundred churches there?" sarcastically asked the other.

"Four hundred!" shouted the first girl, never noticing the sarcasm, "four hundred! I'll bet I tramped through a thousand!"

I can sympathize with that first girl.

The cathedral at Cologne is very fine. It is built in two distinct styles of architecture. The legend runs that the first architect sold his soul to the devil for plans unlike any other church in the world. When he had it half finished he disappeared, and the plans with him.