"I had forgotten that," answered Lambert, "but it's a capital idea. Just fancy a party of Turks in full head-gear, squatted upon a lawn—perfect tulip bed! Ha! ha! capital idea!"
["There," groaned Ludwig to himself, "he's been telling Lambert something wonderful about Tulips—I knew it!">[
"The fact is," continued Lambert, "you can conjure up quite a human picture out of a tulip bed in bloom, especially when it is nodding and bobbing in the wind. Did you ever notice it?"
"Not I. It strikes me, Van Mounen, that you Hollanders are prodigiously fond of the flower to this day."
"Certainly. You can't have a garden without them, prettiest flower that grows, I think. My uncle has a magnificent bed of the finest varieties at his summer-house on the other side of Amsterdam."
"I thought your uncle lived in the city?"
"So he does; but his summer-house, or pavilion, is a few miles off. He has another one built out over the river. We passed near it when we entered the city. Everybody in Amsterdam has a pavilion somewhere, if he can."
"Do they ever live there?" asked Ben.
"Bless you, no! They are small affairs, suitable only to spend a few hours in on Summer afternoons. There are some beautiful ones on the southern end of the Haarlem Lake—now that they've commenced to drain it into polders, it will spoil that fun. By the way, we've passed some red-roofed ones since we left home. You noticed them I suppose with their little bridges, and ponds and gardens, and their mottoes over the door-way."
Ben nodded.