| “A beautifully shaded walk just outside the town.” (See page 224.) |
An active branch of business here is the sale of curios, antique silverware, china, gold, jewels, and bric-a-brac; in fact ancient articles of every description.
As we walk down the Main street, admiring the clean highway and lovely old houses on either side of us, we observe many pairs of wooden shoes lying in front of the different residences near the doorways, and upon inquiry learn that when one person goes to call upon another, he leaves his heavy wooden shoes outside the door, and enters in his stocking feet.
At the farthest end of the street stands an old windmill with its huge arms moving slowly and regularly in harmony with the gentle breeze which blows across the Zuyder Zee. As we draw nearer, we see that it is an ancient grist mill, and here is the owner, who invites us in to view the interior, and with whom we have a pleasant chat in our own colloquial style, adopted since our arrival in this city. Dozens of windmills can be seen from this point, and, as I have already said, they are used for many different purposes. The foundation story is the home of the family, and in a number of these you will find quaint, delightful pictures of old Dutch interiors, with their odd chairs and dressers, ancient clocks and brass bound chests, old-fashioned china, and tiled fireplaces.
There is a beautifully shaded walk just outside the town, encircling the whole city. Large trees here protect Monnikendam from the heavy wind and rain storms which come from the Zuyder Zee, when old Neptune rises in one of his dreadful tantrums. We enjoy this lovely walk, but what do we not enjoy in this town which surely has bound us by some magic spell; for the longer we stay here, the more loath we are to leave its borders.
One day we take a boat and direct our course along one of the canals, on which there is considerable traffic. Here we behold the pitiable sight of two young girls, harnessed like mules, and attached to a lead rope, pulling inch by inch, and foot by foot, a large canal-boat filled with merchandise.
I can imagine no harder work than this, for the poor creatures are exposed to the intense heat of the sun, with no protection against its direct rays, and they have a long slow journey before them, ere the heavily-laden boat making its progress foot by foot shall reach its destination. The toil of the factory girl in America is play when compared with that of the draught girl in Holland.