It was just twelve o'clock as our party left the station, and the bells were ringing gaily, which was the signal for the opening of the Kermis. "My, but isn't this a jam!" gasped Theodore, who found himself wedged in between the market-baskets of two fat Vrouws. "It is, indeed," said Mynheer Joost, "and we must not lose sight of one another. Now, Wilhelmina, you keep between Theodore and Pieter, while the mother and I will go ahead to open the way." There was no use trying to hurry,--Dutch folk do not hurry, even to a Kermis,--so our party just let themselves be pushed slowly along until they reached the Groote Markt. Here things were really getting lively. All around the great square were booths or stalls, where one could buy almost anything they were likely to want. Flags were flying everywhere, and from booth to booth were stretched garlands of flowers and streamers of ribbons. In the centre of the market-square a band of music was playing, and couples were trying to dance in spite of the rough cobblestone pavement and the jostling of the crowd which was watching them. "You can see now, Theodore, just how your Dutch cousins really look, for there are folk here from all over the country, and all in their best holiday dress," said Mynheer Joost. "That group of little girls, with those high sleeves that come nearly to the tops of their heads, and with extra large skirts, are from Zealand." "I see a woman with two or three caps on her head, and a big, black straw hat on top of them," said Theodore. "She is from Hindeloopen; and there, too, are a number of fisherwomen, wearing huge straw hats, which look like big baskets." There were other women wearing beautiful flowered silk shawls, and the sun glistened on the gold ornaments which dangled from their white caps as their owners danced up and down between the long lines of booths, holding each other's hands. People were already crowding around the booths, buying their favourite dainties to eat, which at once reminded the young people that they, too, were hungry. "What will you have, Theodore, 'poffertjes' or 'oliebollen'?" asked Pieter. "Oh, what names!" laughed Theodore. "How can I tell? Show them to me first." "Of course Theodore must eat the 'poffertjes,' for that is the real Kermis cake," said Mynheer Joost, and led the way to a booth where a woman with a big, flapping cap and short sleeves was standing, dipping ladlefuls of batter from a big wooden bowl, and dropping them into hollowed-out places in a big pan, which was placed on an open fire before her. As soon as they were cooked, another woman piled them nicely up, one on top of another, with butter and sugar between, and, with a smile, set a big plateful before the children, who made them disappear in short order. "Why, they are buckwheat cakes, just like ours at home!" said Theodore, in the midst of his first mouthful; "and they are fine, too. Now let us try the other thing with the funny name," he continued.