  Villages in Holland are towns in miniature, for the simple reason that when you have a marsh to live in you drain a part of it and build on that part, and so build in streets, and do not form a village as in England, by houses dotted here and there round a green or down leafy lanes. The village green in Holland is the village street or square in front of the church or 'Raadhuis.' Here the children play, for you cannot play in a swamp, and that is what polder land is seven months out of the year, and so we find that a Dutch village in most parts of the country is a town in miniature. An Overyssel Farmhouse. Thirty years ago the 'Raadhuis' would have been the village inn, barber's shop, and the principal hotel all rolled into one, and the innkeeper, as a natural consequence, the wealthiest man in the neighbourhood. The farmers would have sat at the 'Raad,' i.e. the Village Council, with their caps over their eyes, long Gouda pipes in their mouths, and a 'Glaasje Klare' ('Schiedam') under their chairs which they would have steadily sipped at intervals, puffing at their pipes during the whole sitting. Their wooden shoes ('Klompen'), scrubbed for the occasion to a brilliant white with the help of a good layer of whitening, might have been seen in a row standing on the door-mat, for no well-educated farmer would ever have dreamed of entering a room with shoes on his feet, and he would have taken his 'pruim,' or quid of tobacco, which every farmer chews even when smoking, out of his mouth and laid it on the window-sill, the usual receptacle for such things, and there it would lie in its own little circle of brown fluid, to be replaced either in his own or his neighbour's mouth after the meeting was over. Nowadays a farmer goes to the 'Raad' dressed in a suit of black clothes and with his feet encased in leather boots. He never wears 'Klompen' save when at work in the field or on the farm. He also talks of his 'Gemeente,' for all Holland is portioned off into 'Gemeenten,' and a village is such in as good a sense as large towns like The Hague and Amsterdam, and better if anything, for the taxes there are not so high. Each 'Gemeente' is separately governed by a Burgomaster and 'Leden van den Raad', which is nothing more nor less than a County Council, presided over by a prominent man nominated by the sovereign, and not elected by the members, of which some are called 'Wethouders,' and are, like the other members, elected by the residents of the district. These Wethouders, with the Burgomaster, form the 'Dagelyksch Bestuur.' All ordinary matters concerning the 'Gemeente,' such as giving information to the Minister of War about the men who have signed for the militia, or about any person living in their 'Gemeenten,' are regulated by the 'Dagelyksch Bestuur,' though matters of import are brought before the 'Raad.' Next in importance to the Burgomaster come the 'Gemeenteontvanger,' who receives all the taxes, and the 'Notary, who is the busiest man in the village, although the doctor and clergyman or priest have a large share in the work of contributing to the welfare of the villagers. An Overyssel Farmhouse. A village clergyman is an important person, for he is held in high honour by his parishioners, and his larder is always well stocked free of cost. His income also is relatively larger than that of a town pastor, for besides his fixed salary he reaps a nice little revenue from the pastures belonging to the 'Pastorie,' which he lets out to farmers. The schoolmaster, on the contrary, is treated with but little consideration, and he often feels decidedly like a fish out of water, for though belonging by birth to the labouring class, he is too well educated to associate with his former companions and yet not sufficiently refined to move in the village 'society,' besides which he would not be able to return hospitality, as his salary only amounts to from £40 to £60 a year, and nowhere is the principle of reciprocity more observed than in Dutch hospitality in certain classes. In very small villages many offices are combined in one person, and so we find a prominent inhabitant blacksmith, painter, and carpenter, while the baker's shop is a kind of universal provider for the villagers' simple wants. The butcher is the only person who is the man of one occupation, though he, too, goes round to the neighbouring farms to help in the slaughtering of the cattle, and sometimes lends a hand in the salting and storing of the meat. The farmers live just outside the village, and only come there when they go to the 'Raad' or on Saturday evenings when the week's work is done. They then visit the barber before meeting at the cafÉ for their weekly game of billiards. Every resident of the village also betakes himself to his 'club' or 'Societeit' on Saturday night, and just as the 'Mindere man,' i.e. farmers and labourers, have their games and discuss their farms, their cattle, and the price of hay or corn, so, too, the 'Notabelen' discuss every subject under the sun, not forgetting their dear neighbours. On Sunday mornings the whole 'Gemeente' goes to church, from the Burgomaster to the poorest farm-labourer, and all are dressed in their best. The men of the village have put aside their working-clothes, and are attired in blue or black cloth suits with white shirt fronts and coloured ties. The women have donned black dresses, caps and shawls, and carry their scent-bottles, peppermints, and 'Gezangboek' (hymn-book) with large golden clasps. The 'Stovenzetster,' a woman who acts as verger, shows the good people to their seats and provides the women, if the weather is cold, with 'warme stoven' (hot stoves), to keep their feet comfortable. These little 'stoves' contain little three-cornered green or brown pots ('testen'), in which pieces of glowing peat are put, and sometimes when the peat is not quite red-hot it smokes terribly, and gives a most unpleasant odour to the building. The women survive it, however, by resorting to their eau de Cologne, which they sprinkle upon their handkerchiefs, and keep passing to their neighbours during the whole service. The village schoolmaster has a special office to perform in the Sunday service. It is he who reads a 'chapter' to them before the entrance of the clergyman, who only comes when service has begun. Then the sermon, which is the chief part of the service in Dutch churches, begins. This sermon is very long, and the congregation sleep through the first part very peacefully, but the rest is not for long, for when the domine has spoken for about three-quarters of an hour he calls upon his congregation to sing a verse of some particular psalm. The schoolmaster starts the singing, which goes very slowly, each note lasting at least four beats, so that the tune is completely lost. However, as a rule, every one sings a different tune, and nobody knows which is the right one. Two collections are taken during the service, one for the poor and one for the church, the schoolmaster and the elders ('Ouderlingen') of the church going round with little bags tied to very long sticks, which they pass ail along a row in which to receive the 'gifts.' Generally one cent is given by each of the congregation. Approach to an Overyssel Farm. After church is over the Sunday lunch takes the next place in the day's routine. The table is always more carefully set out on Sundays than on other days, and to the usual fare of bread, butter, and cheese are added smoked beef and cake, while the coffee-pot stands on the 'Komfoortje' (a square porcelain stand with a little light inside to keep the pot hot), and the sugar-pot contains white sugar as a Sunday treat, for sugar is very dear in Holland, and cannot form an article of daily consumption. Servants always make an agreement about sugar; hence on week-days a supply of 'brokken' (sweets something like toffee, and costing about a penny for three English ounces) is kept in the sugar-pot, and when the people drink coffee they put a 'brok' in their mouths and suck it. Should their cup be emptied before the 'brok' is finished, they replace it on their saucers till a second cup is poured out for them, and if they do not take a second cup, then their 'brok' is put back into the sugar-pot again. After lunch the men now find their way to the 'Societeit,' or in summer to the village street, where they walk about in their shirt-sleeves and smoke. The children go to their Sunday schools, or, if they are Roman Catholics, to their 'Leering,' which is a Bible-class held for them in church, and in villages where there is no Sunday school they, too, leisurely perambulate the village dressed in their best clothes, even if it is a wet day. The women first clear away the lunch utensils, and then have a little undisturbed chat with their neighbours on the doorstep, or go to see their friends in town. At four o'clock the whole family assembles again in the parlour for their 'Borreltje,' either consisting of 'Boerenjongens' (brandied raisins) or 'Brandewyn met suiker' (brandy with sugar), which they drink out of their best glasses. There is no church in the evening, so the villagers retire early to bed, so as to be in good trim for the week's hard work again. From this sketch it will be judged that life in a village is very dull. There is nothing to break the monotony of the days, and one season passes by in precisely the same way as another. Days and seasons, in fact, make no difference whatever in the villager's existence. There is no pack of hounds to fire the sporting instinct; no excitement of elections; no distraction of any kind. All is quiet, regular, and uneventful, and when their days are over they sleep with their fathers naturally enough, for only too often have they been half asleep all their lives.
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