of the 'markt vrede' (market peace), so that any one seeing the cross knew that he might enter the town and buy and sell _ad libitum_, also that his peace and safety were guaranteed, and that any one who disturbed the 'markt vrede' would be banished from the place, and not be allowed to come back another year. In some places this yearly market was named, after the crosses, 'Cruyce-markt.' Very festive is the appearance of a town in the Kermis week. On the opening day, at twelve o'clock, the bells of the cathedral or chief church are set ringing, and this is the sign for the booths to be opened and the 'Kermispret' to begin. Everywhere tempting stores are displayed to view, and although a scent of oil and burning fat pervades the air, nobody seems to mind that, for it only increases the delight the Kermis has in store for them. The stalls are generally set out in two rows. The most primitive of these is the stall of hard-boiled eggs and pickled gherkins, whose owner is probably a Jew, and pleasant sounds his hoarse voice while praising his wares high above all others. If he does prevail upon you to come and try one of his eggs and gherkins it only adds more relish to your meal when he tells you of the man who only paid one cent for a large gherkin which really cost two, and although he already had put it in his mouth he made him put the other part back. Or when you go to eat 'poffertjes,' which look so tempting, and with the first bite find a quid of tobacco in the inoffensive-looking little morsel, do not let this trifling incident disturb your equanimity, but try another booth. It is quite worth your while to stand in front of a 'poffertjeskraam' and see how they are made. The batter is simply buckwheat-meal mixed with water, and some yeast to make it light. Over a bright fire of logs is placed a large, square, iron baking-sheet with deep impressions for the reception of the batter. On one side sits a woman on a high stool, with a bowl of the mixture by her side and a large wooden ladle in her hand. This she dips into the batter, bringing it out full, then with a quick sweep of the arm she empties its contents into the hollows of the baking-sheet. A man standing by turns them dexterously one by one with a steel fork, and a moment later he pricks them six at a time on to the fork; this he docs four times to get a plateful, and then he hands it over to another man inside the booth, who adds a pat of butter and a liberal sprinkling of sugar. The 'wafelkramen' are not so largely patronized, as the price of these delicacies is rather too high for the slender purses of the average 'Kermis houwer,' but 'oliebollen'--round ball-shaped cakes swimming in oil--are within the reach of all, as they cost but a cent apiece. Servants and their lovers, after satisfying their appetites with these 'oliebollen,' go and have a few turns in the roundabouts by way of a change, and then hurry to the fish stall, where