Out Of Holland

Fkank-itrt, July 25, Dear Mr. Editor: My last letter closed with an attempt tod( illand, or the strip into which we innocently strayed. A peculiarity which 1 omitted is the frequently seen stone towers, round and tea-pot shaped or truncated cone. They olutely uselese and just hanging arouna as we say. They look fully aa intelligent as the round shouldered, elufïgish Dutchmen, who stare at us as we pass. Pharaoh's chickens are the only bird I can see thatthe latterresemble and tbey are as impervious to impressions as au armidillo. The country is perfectly level, so they never have to look up nor down and, therefore, gaze churiishly and gloomily ahead. "all right, gentlemen." We were nearing the Germán boundaries and as our feara by day and our nightmaree by night had been of the ( ierman custom-house we had many and ominous thumpings about our hearts and we quaked inwardly. At last, we sighted the dread monster and advanced with unsteady wheels to the ordeal. A big, smiling-faced Germán in an awe-inspiring uniform accosted us and we said we were Americana and began fumbling for ourpassports. The monster said in good, honest Germán: "All right, gentlemen," waved liis hand majestieally and let us pass without seeing a paper. We hastened along until out of sight and then went into convulsions and pounded each other for joy. Aix la Chapelle is inhabited by people endowed with more than human curiosity. No sooner were we well in the city than we were surrounded and gently mobbed. Small boys fought and bied for a sight of us and we feared pólice interventiou. At last by leaving our wheels at our hotel and taking refuge in an old oathedral built by Charlemagne, we escapee! the crowd and witnessed one of the most impressive services immaginable. In that vast nave, amid liundreds of devoutworshipers, with the soletan hush followed by the chant of the choir, reverence and awe was all one could feel. COLOGNE - KOT AU DE. On the f olio win g morning, we set out for Cologne, 50 miles away, and thousjh it rained continually yet the roads were perfect and at noon we reached our destination. What can I say of the Cologne cathedral ? One can only think of that grand ediñce. Gothe said of jrothic architecture, that wlien we look up and think of clhnbing there thought itself slides off, and indeed it does here. One cannot grasp its immensity mentally. Only the physioal activity of walking and climbing convinces one of the real dimensions. I don't burden you with all we see in cities because Baedecker or Bayard Taylor or Mark Twain can furnish that so much better but I assure you that, with tnie American enterprise, we get a rapid view of all the guide-book calis for. As we neared the fanaous bridge of boats, got our first glimpse of the Rhine and our eyes, loyal then to the Hudson, saw only a muddy, narrow stream not to be compared with the Hudson. But wait ! Even patriotism succumbs to the charms of the upper Rhine and I have more to say. We left the city of perfumes all of wliich I asaure you are not sweet - and began to ride on the most wonderful road as we believe in the world. From Cologne to Bingen, this road follows devotedly the curves of the river, level as a table and smooth as marble. Rain or shine - and we had both in rapid succession - the road is perfect. It is, as I said, a inarvelous road and I would encourage every enthusiastie American wheelrnan to tnake that ride ií he has to sell his bicycle to get home. It would be a ploasure to ride there if both sides of the road were walled high with empty tomato cans. But when the mind and e}re are deligbted with every beauty that nature, art and antiquity can lavish, then the journey becomes a dream or a fantasy of beauty. . OÜR DEJCAM. Our dream was much as follows : A short ride to Boun brought us to the rnost picturesque portion of the river. From the west bank where we were throughout, we saw the ruin on the Dragon Rock. This rock beetles over the broad, swelling Khine and the vinecovered hillsides and the banks of trees and the cavern where Siegfried, the hero of the Low Countries, slew the dragon. The wine produced near here is called the dragon's blood. By bathing himselt in the dragon's gore, fried became invulnerable. I suppose that is what those who soak themselves in wine in this región are trying to do. On basaltic rook beyond and on the west side is Roland's arch, a castle remnant about whicb clings a legend which I must briefly teil you. It relates how brave knight Roland saw and loved and wooed the daughter of the lord of the Seven Mountains. Then Charlemagne summoncd Mm to the crusades. Hillegrunde, the inaiden, heard sad rumors of liis capture by infidels and she entered a cloister. Eoland retm'ned and found that Hillegrunde was lost to Mm. He built this castle whose crumbling arch remains and lived in solitude watchiog daily the pensive nun at her devotions. Then be missed her and after the funeral procession assured him that she was gone, he spoke no more and at last was found dead with his lifeless eyes fixed npon the convent walls. Our eyes feasted long apon the seven blue mountains wbose graceful outline changed with every new point of view. Villas and the enchanting spiies of okl and modern churches pass constantly before the visión. Again and again, history animates a twice or thrice dead ruin and the magie presence of Frederic Barbarossa or Charlemagne or some other mighty Teutón fires the imagination. The Appollinariskirche stirs the fancy with the associated tale of the ship which refused to go down the Rhine antil the head of St. Appollinaris was depositedthere. Frederick the Eed Bearded was sendiug the head to Cologne. For supper that first eveniug on the Rhine, we purchased som e rolls and a little butter, some eggs and a few cakes and ate our meal while sitting in ture's vast dining room with three romantic castles pèrched high above and amid bird songs and rustling vine leaves. It was enough to make a poet out of a man. We seriously thought of climbing up and sleeping in one of those old castles that night, but thoughts of rheumatisin and other possible ills deterred us and we very prosaically went to a hotel. WE ARE LIVING CURIOSITIES. The next d.y we passed castle after castle, ruined walls and temples built by churcb.es and abbeys built by the sturdy the Romans in their greatest days. Teutons, and the steep cliffs raising perpendicular from the wall. At one point, we climbed down the rocky wall aud took a swini iu the romantic river. While we thus desported ourselves, a passenger boat passed us and when hey saw our wheels up on the bank, the people seemed much amused, Gerniau curiosity still exercises itself upon us and it is an actual fact that they stopped a street-car -which ran out to a suburb to allow the passengers and crew to examiue us while we were oiling our wheels. Our pilgrimage resembles a pageant as we pass through villages and towns. "Men and women in front and a tapering line of children in the rear. Perhaps a cornet serves the metapboi better. Chimes of bells often greet us as we enter a town but we are modest enough to interpret that as merely announcing the hour. I can't teil you more now but in my next letter I shall take you with me up to Biugen.