The time is not exactly lost, because it allows you to stare about you without rudeness. But soon, the bridge-swinger takes his toll from the barge, which he collects by means of a wooden shoe at the end of a string fastened to a fishing-rod; the isthmus of planks is then replaced, and resounds with the pattering of gros sabots. Certainly, the popular costume is droll, in its extremes. At top, the women wear a close-worked cottage hat of straw, with three dabs of blue ribbon stuck on behind; at foot, they are garnished with masses of hollow timber, which must be a serious drain on the Belgian forests. But hats worn by women at the same time with sabots, are, in French eyes, or in eyes accustomed to France, as utterly anomalous a combination as a fish-tailed mermaid, or a man-headed centaur are considered, on cool reflection, by Professor Owen. Conspicuous in the air rise the portly towers of St. Nicholas, St. Michel, and St. Bavon, around which, and the lofty houses, multitudinous swifts, whirl and scream, in delight at the abundance of their insect game. The canals are propitious to the propagation of gnats. Where is the carcase, there are the vultures; and where are the gnats, there flock the swifts. That the quietude of the town is more apparent than real, and that busy life is going on within, is plain from the Belgian fashion of sticking looking-glasses outside the houses, at angles (sometimes they glance in three directions) which allow the inmates to catch a glimpse of passers-by, without being seen themselves. “Au Nouveau Miroir,” (the new looking-glass) is occasionally used as the sign of an inn. The mirrors are generally on a level with the first-floor; and a smaller one receives the rays it reflects straight from the entrance door; so that Not at home is easily responded to the inquiries of a dun, or worse, a bore. It is not one city alone which adopts the system of quicksilvered peepers; nor is the custom new, but was probably first introduced by peculiarities of historical and political situation. In Belgium, it has not always been convenient to open the door to every new-comer. “If you please, monsieur,” we politely ask, “have the goodness to tell us which is the way to the Botanic Garden?”