Stories Pictures Tell. Book 5

by Flora L. Carpenter

It is interesting to know how the people build houses in this land. They cannot build them as we do, because the earth is so soft and yielding that the houses would sink in it. First, they dig out two or three feet of earth, and, as they expect, this opening immediately fills with water. Then they drive piles or stakes deep into the ground with a powerful steam hammer. These are placed close together in lines to support the walls of the house. Heavy oak boards are nailed upon them and the brick foundation is then started just as we build ours. The back and front of the house are not completed until after the roof is finished, for it is necessary to allow a free circulation of air through the house to dry it. Even then Dutch houses seem very damp to those who are not natives. The kitchen is usually built in the front part of the house instead of the back. The buildings we see in this picture, even the windmill itself, must have been built in just this way.

The calm and peace of this landscape are more impressive when we think of the great ocean outside the dike, pounding away in its ceaseless effort to claim its own. The picture seems to tell us something of the great effort, constant guard, and persistent struggle we must make if we would secure peace and contentment in our lives.

But in all lives must come some stormy days. In our picture we can see the clouds gathering, feel the warning stillness in the air, and know that the storm will break soon. The strange calm keeps the water still and lifeless, the sails of the boat hang flat and unruffled, the trees are without motion, and the great arms of the windmill wait to catch the first faint breeze.

The three women on their way to church or home must hasten, for these storms come quickly, as the man who stands guard at the railing of the mill well knows. There is a feeling of expectancy in this picture. As we watch the great clouds and the strange light in the sky, we are conscious of a great stillness all around, and we expect at any moment to feel the rush and roar of the oncoming winds. There is something alarming in the suspense.

We begin to feel the vastness of sky and water around us and how very little and unimportant we are in the midst of it all. We wonder that we have ventured so much.

The great simplicity of this landscape is also typical of the people of Holland. The early Hollanders were remarkable for their simplicity, but as they prospered there was a tendency toward extravagance and display which caused much remonstrance from the clergy and more thoughtful citizens.

The story is told of an old Dutch merchant who, having made a fortune in trade, decided to spend the rest of his life in his country home some distance away. Before leaving his friends he invited them all to dine with him. Upon arriving, the guests were amazed to find themselves seated at a large table covered with a blue cloth, and set with wooden plates, spoons, and tumblers. Two old seamen served them with herring, fresh, salted, or dried. The second course was salt beef and greens.

The guests, of course, were much disappointed and scarcely tasted this poor fare. They supposed the meal was ended when the blue cloth was removed, but no, it was replaced by one of the finest linen, the old sailors disappeared, and a number of servants in fine liveries appeared, serving a banquet which excelled even their highest expectations.

Then the host spoke to them: “Such, gentlemen, has been the progress of our Republic. We began with short frugality, by means of which we became wealthy; and we end with luxury, which will beget poverty. We should, therefore, be satisfied with our beef and greens, that we may not have to return to our herrings.”

Unlike many pictures which seem to be made up of a majority of either curved or straight lines, this picture contains a great variety of lines. We find the straight line in the masts and sails of the boats, the walls and spires of the church, the main walls of the windmill, the posts of the breakwater, and the three little figures in white; the horizontal lines in the horizon, roofs, hull of the boat, and in the breakwater. The rolling clouds, round masses of the tree tops, and the balcony railing give us the curved lines, while we cannot fail to notice the oblique lines of the arms of the mill and the grasses near the river bank.