Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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10 SOM HR VILIJC HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR magnificent reception salon, rooms for various games, and a good and attractive theatre, together with a dozen shops where pretty souvenirs are sold —all this comprised in the Kurhaus and under its direction. A ride by train of a few minutes brings one to the old University town of Leyden. Nearly four hundred years ago the town sustained a remarkable siege from the Spaniards, and, as a last resort, the Prince of Orange broke the dikes and let in the water so quickly that over a thousand of the enemy were drowned, while it happened that the wind took a fleet of two hundred boats from Rotterdam to the very gates of the city, and so gave them the help they needed to save the town. Of course they suffered during this period, the people of Leyden, and the Prince of Orange offered with its acres upon acres of fields where tulips and other flowers arc raised to send broadcast through the world. At one time tulip bulbs were so valu- able the Dutch used them as money. The city has a grand old kirk, bare of ornament, as all these arc, except for the models of some of the war ships that led the Dutchmen to victory in the old days, these being suspended from the roof by long iron rods, and to this day the sight of these ships causes the hearts of all true Hollanders to thrill with joy and pride. A superb organ, one of the best in Europe, stands in this old kirk, and its music rolls through the vast space as waves from a sea of melody. The fish market crowds up to the walls of the kirk, and in Rotterdam and The Hague little shops and houses are built on all around the kirks, ex TYPICAL TYPES OF HOLLANDERS. them either a release from certain taxes or a uni- versity, and it proves the standing of its people to know that they chose the university, which has al- ways occupied a high place among the educational institutions of Europe. The buildings are simple, and entirely lacking in the perfect appointments that mark our own uni- versity buildings, the white walls here and there bearing sketches of crayon that are clever indeed, and that are very old. On either side of the door of the room where the examination papers are looked over, there are these sketches—on one side a young man triumphant, wildly waving a paper that says he has passed, and on the other side a poor, forlorn fellow, who had dropped into a chair to mop his streaming eyes, and limply holding the paper that says he has failed. 'I'he house of John Robinson is not far away, close to the fine old kirk, and this house is a Mecca for the feet of all good Americans. The way to Amsterdam lies through Haarlem. actly as barnacles fasten and grow on the sides of a ship. Amsterdam is a fine city, its chief activity center- ing at The Dam. where is the Royal Palace, the Old Kirk, and the Bourse. The old man who is chief guardian of the palace has quite an idea ttf wit. and as he shows visitors from our country the throne room, he points to the throne, and says, Here sits our queen. In Holland we have only one queen, while in America every woman (with a sweeping bow) is a queen.” Queen Wilhclmina spends little time at this palace, and it is small cause for wonder, as it is a bare, grim place, set directly on the public square. Opposite is the old Bourse, or Stock Exchange, and upon one day in the year the boys of the city hold high carnival within it, for it is wholly given up to them. Several hundred years ago, some boys playing at its doors heard plans for a secret attack by the Spanish upon the city, and their speedy report

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 9 soms and heaps of fresh fruit temptingly spread under the trees in the market square, and the women and girls, with their wooden shoes, quaint head-dresses, and broad, good faces, were an inter- esting study. Near here was the great Kirk, or church of St. Lawrence, and close at hand was a statue of the noted philosopher and scholar. Erasmus, who was born in Rotterdam. He is represented as holding an open book, and one of the jokes of the city, told to strangers, is that when Erasmus hears the sound of the great bell from the church tower, he turns over a leaf of his book. It is a pleasant thing to find a people holding in pride and reverence for four hundred and thirty- eight years the memory of a man born in their city, and keeping alive an intimate memory of him. They still tell the story that while in Paris occupied in study, and so poor he was almost in rags, he wrote home to a friend: When I get some money I will buy some Greek books, and after that, some clothes. Rotterdam has all the modern attractions of other large cities—a museum of real merit, excel- lent shops of every sort, beautiful villas and gardens along tree-shaded canals, an extensive and hand- some park, and a zoo” that is particularly well supplied with rare animals and birds, and where a band gives daily concerts and hundreds of persons come to enjoy all its advantages. Only a distance of fifteen minutes away is The Hague, called the Court City of Holland, a clean, cheerful place that somehow reminds one of a pro- gressive American city—there is so much of pros- perity to be noted and such an air of brisk activity. There is a royal palace in the city where the Queen sometimes pays a visit, and in the vast park that gives the name to it— the Count’s Hedge” (or wood), a contraction in the Dutch name giving The I Iaguc”—there is a gem of a palace, called the House in the Wood,” where the famous Peace Congress met a few years ago. The Queen rarely visits this palace, which is ricli in frescoes, paintings, hangings of splendid tapestry, velvet, and satin, and rare bric-a-brac from all parts of the world. The Wood is magnificent, with its grand trees, roads, rustic bridges across brooks and canals, restful little cafes here and there, tennis courts, fields for children to enjoy, and a great open space for the review of troops. The parliament sits at The Hague, in buildings, on a stone-paved court, that were once the resi- dence of the Count,” and in the court is the oldest building at The Hague, the Gothic Hall, now being thoroughly restored. Directly in front of this Barneveldt. the Grand Pensionary, after the form- ing of the “United Provinces” (which he offered to the sovereignty of Queen Elizabeth), was beheaded. He was called a traitor, but all the charges against him were false. It would seem that bright little Holland might have escaped some of the horrors of history, but she has had her share of these. Not far from the par- liament buildings is the old prison where brave John De Witt and his brother Cornelius were killed and torn in pieces by a mob that believed them traitors, while in truth John De Witt was one ot the greatest and most loyal of the Dutch leaders, a Republican of broad views, and bitterly opposed to the claims of the House of Orange. It was while l)c Witt had command of the naval forces that De Ruyter actually entered the river Thames and burnt some of the English war vessels. The story of John and Cornelius De Witt is more dra- matic than any novel extant. Just out of the parliament square is the Museum, this building having been the home of William « • ()range—a fine old house, with much rich carving and with high square rooms, the walls of which ar . now covered with valuable pictures of the famous Dutch “Schools of Art. Some of the pictures are the greatest in the art world, and travelers must go to The Hague to sec them, these being the Young Bull” of Paul Potter, the Anatomical Lecture,” by Rembrandt, and the Young Mother. by Gerard Dow. It is in this gallery that one realizes how little real change there has been in Holland in the last three hundred years, for here upon the walls are bits of life, quaint interiors, and spirited group- ings. that can be found to-day by stepping aside from any busy centre in city or town. The Hague is close to the North Sea. and only about two miles away is the fishing village of Scheveningcn (Schcv-cn-ing-en). with its beach twenty miles long, upon which the broad boats of the hardy fishermen are rolled, after the great side boards—that keep them in the wind—have been pulled up. Rollers are slipped under the boats, and men and women pull them far up the beach, where the fish are sold directly from the boats. I'lie women of Scheveningcn are as tough and hardy as their husbands and sons, who go down to the sea in ships.” and the children have all the qualities of the parents,—sober, stolid, faithful, and brave. They never seem to have hours for plav like our children, for they are always busy—the girls knitting and mending fish-nets, and the boys with the boats or the drying fish. Aside from its odd little houses and shops, its frames for drying fish, and its fish-nets everywhere, there is a modern Scheveningcn, with great hotels, concert halls, restaurants, a splendid pier far out in the sea. some roller coasters, hundreds of small tents pitched upon the beach for shade and rest, big wicker chairs with a sort of wicker hood to keep off the sun and wind, and odd little bathing houses on wheels, to which horses are attached to draw them into the water, so that the bathers step di- rectly into the sea. and later are again drawn far up on tiic beach after the toilet is made. Some sixty thousand visitors come each season to the fashionable North Sea watering place, and at the Kurhaus. for twenty-seven years in succession, the celebrated Philharmonic orchestra, of Berlin, has given two concerts a day in the concert hall and upon the terrace. Two hundred persons dine each evening in the dining saloon, while another orchestra, hidden among palms, plays popular airs; there is a finely appointed library and reading room, with papers from all [tarts of the world; there is a

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR saved its people. Since then, upon each anniver- sary of that day. the boys are given full liberty to call the Bourse their own. A new Stock Exchange is being built, and doubtless the same liberty will be given upon that date. Amsterdam has most beautiful parks, fine streets bordering picturesque canals, and yet others with gardens and great modern houses; an attractive glass-covered arcade, filled with pretty shops: a Zoo far beyond that of Rotterdam : a museum filled with rare art treasures, public institutions of every sort, streets full of quaint old houses and odd little shops, and a Jew's quarter, where wonderful bar- gains in old silver and copper may be picked up. The city is built upon ninety small islands, and nearly all the structures rest upon spiles, the palace, it is said, having fourteen thousand beneath it. The dam upon the Amstcl river, built seven hun- dred years ago. gives its name to the city. The one way to get a true idea of Holland is to make a trip through some of its side canals, to its small towns, and to the unique island of Marken out in the Zuider Zee. Small pleasure steamers make the journey in a day, and lock upon lock lifts the boat higher and higher, till the great Zuider Zee is reached, with Marken three miles away lying low and flat upon the water. Through the lower canals, protected by low dikes, are odd little towns, one of them called Brock, the cleanest town in the world. During the summer all the cows are out on the broad, level pastures, and the stables are clean as wax. with lace curtains at the windows, and here are stored the various kinds of cheese that make the town famous —a sort of cheese exhibit going on all summer. Marken is being ruined as a place for pleasant visiting, as its people—who are entirely fisher folk —have become so fond of money they will even sell their household gods for a price. Once the chil- dren were shy, quiet, old-fashioned, little people, NATURE'S CARNIVAL. By Birtha Phillips Marvel. UEEN NATURE held a carnival— Farewell to Summer’s reign; And bade as guests the merry months, Attendants in her train. Fair June, with crown of roses. Came first to shed her tears. That all her charms were faded. Forgotten with the years. She spoke of birds and twilights, And laughed about her fields, But truly sighed when leaving— ’Tis then real sorrow yields. And golden glowed the July guest. And warmly gave her greeting. Her ardent smiles no chill allowed, But ah! her smiles were fleeting! For soon she knelt at Nature’s throne, And laid her treasures there To be bequeathed to other months In other years, more fair. 11 but now they are greedy for silver, and rush to pose before every camera they see. while a babe in arms will howl with rage if he docs not get a share of the Dutch small coin. The women go to Amsterdam among the old shops, and buy up odd pieces of china, which they will chip a little and rub in the sand, later selling as old family bits that they pari with almost in teats. Up to ten years of age, the boys and girls dress exactly alike, except that upon the back of the hood of the boy—or the girl—there is a sort of rosette. Which is which only a Dutchman can remember. The houses at Marken arc full of really fine old china and carved wood settees and dressers. The beds are built into the house like the bunks on a ship, and each is piled high with home-made lace spreads and ornamental pillows. There are two settlements, one near the landing, the breakwater and the shelter for the fishing boats, and the other over in the middle of the island. In the last there is a school, and it is quite an interest- ing experience to visit this, and to hear the fresh young voices sing with force and sweetness the Boer National Hymn, for they sing tins as often as their own hymn. Nearly always a fresh breeze awaits the small boat just outside the breakwater, and it is an excit- ing sail back to the locks that drop us down to Am- sterdam lying on a great open basin. This last is to be entirely filled, and hundreds of acres of good land will be added to the city. The Dutch say. God made the sea; we made the land. and truly they have. The windmills are used to move the water into and out of the canals, so that they are always fresh and safe, so far as health is concerned. Holland is a great and rich country, although so small. Great in the strength and honesty and wis- dom of her people, and rich in her foreign posses- sions. where she rules with prudence and wise care. Next o’er the scene a hushed sound Reminds one of the sea, The quiet winds, the leaping wave, And August bends her knee To kiss the hand of Summer-time, And wish her oft return. When Augusts of the coming moons May sweeter lessons learn. September lingers, and regrets To loose the arms that hold Sweet Summer in the Year’s embrace— The Year that’s growing old. And then all three do whisper o’er The joys that they have known, And breathe a prayer for memories To be their very own. They whisper yet more silently, ’Till Summer sleeps profound. And then steal out into the past, While their good-bys resound. And Nature’s guests have taken flight; The feast that she has spread Lies waiting for another gaze— Her Summer maids are dead.