It would seem strange to us to hear our native city called “the Boston,” and stranger still to hear the staid old capital called by more names than one.

Eric, and Allan, and Nettie were quite confused in the capital of Holland by the variety of names given it.

“Hague,” “The Hague,” and “La Haye” they had heard, but upon their arrival they found its inhabitants calling it “Gravenhaag,” which, Mrs. Hyde explained, meant “The Count’s Meadow.”

“What a comical place!” Nettie exclaimed, as they glided along through “canal streets” to the hotel. “Mamma, if our streets were like these, wouldn’t you fret for our precious necks every time we looked out of a window? And I don’t suppose you would ever let us go out to play, for fear we’d drown.”

“Still, it is very pleasant gliding under these shady trees; and if you look about, my dear, you will see there are also carriage roads, with sidewalks.”

“Yes,” said Eric; “we’ve passed several.”

“I like these boat roads best,” said Allan, “they are so novel.”

“Where are we going, mamma?” asked Nettie, “and how far?”

“To the Vyverberg House, my dear. I do not know the distance.”

“Is it a mile?” asked Eric, of the boatman.

He shook his head, saying, “Nein.”

But you are not to think that he meant nine miles, for “nein” is German for “no.”

The Vyverberg House was at the north end of Gravenhaag; so our friends had a fine view of the town, and learned much of its history from the sober old boatman, who, very fortunately for them, spoke English well.

He pointed out the moat, which surrounded the city and formed its principal defense, and the drawbridges which crossed the moat.

“How different from Hamburg!” said Eric. “There, a strong wall fortified the town, and most of its streets are now built upon its old walls of fortification.”

“The canals were similar to these,” said his mother. “You did not notice those particularly, because you always rode in Mr. Nichols’s carriage.”

“But this is a much better looking town than Hamburg, mamma.”

“Yes, indeed; the buildings are much handsomer here,” she assented.

“O, how lovely!” “How splendid!” cried Nettie and Allan in a breath, as they came upon a fine open space, ornamented with a lake, and wooded island in its centre.

“This is the Vyverberg,” the boatman said.

“Mamma, how good of you to bring us here!” cried the children; “it is perfectly splendid!”

Well might they say so. The square containing the lovely lake and island was surrounded by the handsomest and chief public edifices of the city, the finest one of them all being the former palace of Prince Maurice, now the National Museum, celebrated for its gallery of pictures.

The Royal Museum and other famous buildings were there; but that to which our party’s attention was most closely drawn was the hotel.

It stood facing the lake, a broad, comfortable-looking brick building, with heavy balconies, and frowning eaves and ornamental stucco work surrounded its doorways and windows. Between it and the avenue lay a beautiful garden, and just beyond the building was a small shady grove.

“Mamma,” exclaimed Nettie, “I do think the Germans and Dutch have the most exquisite gardens in the world.”

“They are certainly very beautiful,” said Mrs. Hyde. “Here in Holland great attention is paid to the culture of flowers. Indeed, some of the finest varieties are raised here, and Holland bulbs are among our choicest varieties.”

“Mrs. Hyde, I suppose I am very stupid,” said Allan, blushing, “but I do not know what ‘bulbs’ are.”

“No, indeed, Allan; you show great good sense in asking about whatever you do not understand. That is the way to learn. Bulbous plants are those which have a round root, and produce very few leaves; they are such as the tulip, hyacinth, crocus, and others. They are nearly all ornamental and beautiful from the very large size and brilliant color of their flowers. Holland tulips were once so much in demand as to bring almost fabulous prices. A gentleman in Syracuse gave a valuable span of horses, and another exchanged his farm, for a bed of the tulip bulbs.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” said Allan. “It is very interesting. When I am a man I think I will be a florist. I am very fond of flowers; they were a great comfort to me when I was blind.”

As Allan ceased speaking, the boat stopped, and they were landed upon a short flight of stone steps. Eric gave directions for the baggage, and then all proceeded to the hotel.

A carriage was approaching them quite rapidly, and Nettie suddenly, with a cry of joy, sprang forward, directly in the way of the horses. If Allan had not, at the risk of serious injury to himself, immediately sprung after her and drawn her back, she would have been run over.

“Let go of me, Allan; O, let me go! It is papa!” cried Nettie.

A gentleman in the carriage stopped the horses, and leaned anxiously forward.

“Is the little girl hurt?” he asked of Allan, in German.

Poor Allan did not understand him, and could not answer. But there was no need, for in another instant, exclaiming, “Why, ’tis my own little girl!” the gentleman leaped from the carriage, and Nettie was in her father’s arms.

Meanwhile Mrs. Hyde and Eric, who had been separated by carriages from them, and had only seen Nettie spring before the horses, and Allan go after her, were very much frightened. They now appeared upon the scene, and finding the child sobbing in a gentleman’s arms, concluded, of course, that she was hurt.

“My darling!” cried poor Mrs. Hyde, in agony, “O, is she hurt, sir?”

“No, ma’am,” said Allan, “she is not hurt, at all!”

“Alice!” said Mr. Hyde to his wife.

He had but just landed from the American steamer, and was on his way to the hotel, not knowing of the arrival of “The Hague,” when he first saw Nettie and Allan. He was overjoyed to find his family thus unexpectedly.

“O, Eric, Eric! I am so glad!” she exclaimed, in relief; “but Nettie!”

“My little rash, excitable Nettie is safe and sound in papa’s arms,” he said. But the tremor in his voice showed how nearly Nettie had escaped severe injury. “Eric, my boy,” he added, “have you no word for papa?”

Eric, white and faint, could not speak a word, but clasped his father’s hand convulsively.

“And where is my daughter’s brave protector and deliverer?” Mr. Hyde asked, looking around for Allan.

The boy, who had bashfully retreated behind Mrs. Hyde, was brought forward and introduced as “our neighbor the blind boy, whose sight is now restored.”

“He is travelling home with us,” Mrs. Hyde added, when her husband had warmly thanked him.

Quite a crowd had collected around our travellers, and so eagerly and sympathetically inquired what had happened, that Mr. Hyde was obliged to tell them, briefly, the incident, as he led the way to the Vyverberg House.

It was but a few steps, and they were soon in the hotel, where the words of congratulation floated after them from the crowd; and presently a hearty cheer followed, when the good Hollanders understood that the little American Fraulien had found her father.