"Biftek aux pommes,"[8] said Mr. George, "and coffee. And let them give us some of their best cheese."
The commissioner went in to give the order.
"Uncle George," said Rollo, "I think you'll be known all through this country as the beefsteak and fried potato man."
Mr. George laughed.
"Well," said he. "There could not be a more agreeable idea than that to be associated with my memory."
The truth is, that both Mr. George and Rollo liked the biftek aux pommes better than almost any thing else that they could have, whether for breakfast or dinner.
After having given the order for the breakfast to a very nice and tidy-looking Dutch girl, whose forehead and temples were adorned with a profusion of golden ornaments, after the fashion of the young women of North Holland, the commissioner came back, and the whole party set out to walk through the village. There were no streets, properly so called, but only walks, about as wide as the gravel walks of a garden, which meandered about among the houses and yards, in a most extraordinary manner. There were beautiful views, from time to time, presented over the water of the canal on which the village was situated; and there were a great number of small canals which seemed to penetrate every where, with the prettiest little bridges over them, and landing steps, and bowers, and pavilions along the borders of them, and gayly-painted boats fastened at kitchen doors, and a thousand other such-like objects, characteristic of the intimate intermingling of land and water which prevails in this extraordinary country.
THE DAIRY VILLAGE.