A LETTER FROM HOLLAND.
Dear Boys And Girls At Home,—As Messrs. Scribner, Armstrong, and Company of New York are printing for you the story of "The Silver Skates," perhaps you would like to have a letter from this land of the Brinkers.
If you all could be here with me to-day, what fine times we might have walking through this beautiful Dutch city! How we should stare at the crooked houses, standing with their gable-ends to the street, at the slanting little mirrors fastened outside of the windows, at the wooden shoes and dog-carts near by, the windmills in the distance, at the great warehouses, at the canals doing the double duty of streets and rivers, and at the singular mingling of trees and masts to be seen in every direction! Ah, it would be pleasant indeed! But here I sit in a great hotel, looking out upon all these things, knowing quite well that not even the spirit of the Dutch, which seems able to accomplish any thing, can bring you at this moment across the ocean. There is one comfort, however, in going through these wonderful Holland towns without you, it would be dreadful to have any of the party tumble into the canals. And then these lumbering Dutch wagons, with their heavy wheels, so very far apart what should I do if a few dozen of you were to fall under them? And, perhaps, one of the wildest of my boys might harm a stork, and then all Holland would be against us! No. It is better as it is. You will be coming, one by one, as the years go on, to see the whole thing for yourselves.
Holland is as wonderful to-day as it was, when, more than twenty
