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Continue Their Sight-seeing in Out of the Way Places.
Ropthenburg a picturesque relic of the middel ages - Quaint inscriptions on the houses - Peg, one of the "girls", suggests that we drain the jersey meadows and have a little Holland of our own.

Antwerp, Sept. 27 - Rothenburg is out of the world, a picturweaque relic of the middle ages, but we found getting there very difficult, as the native to whom we applied in our time-table distress naturally got confused as to A.M. en P.M. trains. We accordingly had to "umsteigen" for seven hours at an obscure station, and rumbled over a rough branch road at an hour very much P.M. Our only companian was a little man of 10 who was traveling alone. Some one had given him a cane to add to the manliness of the occasion and had tied around his neck a big card beating his address. He had been instructed to speak to no one, so Sue procured no facts from him about the agricultural state of the country.
If it is inconvenient to arrive "out of the world" at night. it is at least impressive, and we shall never forget rattling under the old town gates of Rothenburg, with an occasional lantern flaring into the dark angles of medieval byways. We had telegraphed ahead to "the tinsmith's wife in the architect's house," which sounded so ...

... We were delighted when we found ourselves traveling through cosy Holland. We exclaimed appropriately over the first windmill, the queer Dutch boats, the glistening cocks on village spires, the straight lines of water separating garden patches, ...

... Peg took us out to see a colony of artists
at Rijsoordsch (Rijsoodrsch), a village near
and we
found them blissfully groups of rosy peasant
girls stood by knitting and staring. In this
settlement we found a cleanliness that put
even Dortrecht to shame. Friday is the
cleaning day, and then everything from the
kitschen is taken outdoor and polished. Any
unfortunate atom of dust which has unwittingly
strayed into the parlor is relentlessly
expelled. Sometimes even the roofs and
sides of sheds, and the gravel in the garden
walk are scrubbed.
We called here upon rich peasants,
"Mevrouw' brought out her best china, and
served us candies and tea, with little cakes.
When we wished no more we followed the
custom and inverted our cups. She then
took us through her house, the spotloss lean-
to where the cows spend the winter; her
cupboards of shining glass; brought out her
embroidered caps, some of which were
worth $40; her necklaces of garnets and gold,
and the twisted gold plus worn at
the temples called 'crullers', and which
give their name, I suppose toe the twisted
cakes familiar to the New York Dutch. She
opend two doors and disclosed not rows
of china but a white-draped bed set in the
wall, according to a Dutch fashion. Everywhere
was the clean smell shich pervades the
spare bedroomd of our country cousins.
But our Holland stay was all too short ...
CARO LLOYD.= Caroline Augusta Lloyd, at Vassar in Paris, died 1940, married (1) Paris 14 okt. 1892 (divorced) Lothrop Withington, born 31-1-1856, he was already married, he died sinking Lusitania 7-5-1915, married (2) Strobell.]>

They are in the Land of Dikes Now.
While traveling in Germany they pined for two glasses of American water, not including that which flows from the Passaic river

The Hague, Sept. 6. - Of course, we didn't leave Switzerland without getting up to see a sunrise. Sue woundn't have allowed it. It is a difficult performance anywhere, but the trouble about doing it in Switzerland is that you get uo so high. We got uo 7,000 feet to see ours, to the top of Mt. Pilatus - the Rigi is out of date now. We came up the mountain ...
[bron: The Daily Standard Union, Brooklyn, Saturday, September 24, 1892]

One of the Three American Grils Still Abroad.
Paris in November - The Scholastic Quarter - Jour des Morts - How American Art Students enjoy life - the Pantheon - The Comedie Francaise - the latest Parisian Caprice.

Paris, Nov. 26. - Paris runs down in summer like an unwound clock. The tourist who rushes to the Louvre, the Bon Marche, Notre Dame, always drives in cabs, reads the Paris edition of the New York "Herald", hugs the vicinity of the banks, visits the sewers under Paris, and the Eiffel Tower over it, has a delightful glimpse, but does not really see Paris, for Paris, so to speak, does not come to town until November. To be sure, the cabinet maker's chisel is always ...
... of the Americans who remain in Paris, the art students form a large proportion. I spent the other evening with a group of them, in the studio of two girls. The studio was a lean-to, set in a garden, its high, barn-like space under the ceiling was traversed by long stovepipes, which were decorated with the wheels of inaccessible spiders' webs. Sketches were pinned on the walls, and the girls' beds disguised as luxurious divans. There were rude shelves, made of boards and rope, but which held their favorite books, lovingly brought from home. We sat in front of their log-fire, sipping coffee, reciting "Alice in Wonderland", and finally engaging in a warm dispute as to whether Browning was a poet. There is a community of these students here in the neighborhood of the Colorossi school, promising young men and women from obscure United States villages, picnicking picturesquely. I have even known them to furnish their entire room with packing-boxes, to which are always added the quaint pieces, such as miniatures, a choice dinner plate or two, old brocade, and faded relics of the ancien regiem, so dear to the artists' soul, and which are to be found galore in the unparalleled Paris junkshop ...
[bron: The Daily Standard Union, Brooklyn, Saturday, December 10, 1892]