Even the market square is devoid of the usual fringe of ancient buildings. Here they hold a cattle market on Wednesdays, but to strike every city in Holland upon the day of its distinctive market would necessitate a vast amount of vibratory traveling, which in itself, and not considering the markets, would soon grow monotonous. I happened upon Bois le Duc on a Saturday, when one of those nondescript, unsavory bazaars of cooking utensils and crockery was in full swing. It was a hot day, for Holland, and the sun beat down upon the unprotected square with a most uncomfortable effect. So I spent most of my spare time under the awning of a nearby café watching the business transactions of a couple of “hokey-pokey” wagons, decorated and garnished so that they resembled the floats in a Queen of the May pageant. But an inspection of Bois le Duc’s cathedral will reimburse any traveler who has planned to pay the town a visit. It stands on the edge of a wide parade ground, not far from the market, from the opposite side of which the church’s Gothic gargoyles and entablatures can be seen to good advantage above the trees. Founded in the eleventh century, this cathedral was originally erected as a Romanesque edifice. After suffering the inevitable results of a devastating conflagration, it was rebuilt in the early half of the fifteenth century, its Romanesque design having been discarded and a late Gothic one adopted. Since 1860 it has been subjected to a plan of restoration. And not only from without is it a pleasing contrast to the usual run of Dutch churches, but it is the only one in Holland whose interior, having marvelously escaped the iconoclasm of early days, and having been allowed to remain undesecrated by the customary coat of whitewash and the central bull ring, is what it ought to be. The visitor of to-day may obtain an uninterrupted view from one end of the cathedral to the other, for the authorities, always in need of funds to carry on the restorations to the church, sold its handsome choir screen some years ago and realized $4,500 on it. But the absence of the screen will scarcely be noticed in the cathedral--indeed, the general effect is more satisfying without it. Stowed away, however, among a collection of other ecclesiastical curios in the new Victoria and Albert Museum in South Kensington, London, without the lights and shadows of its church to enhance its richness, it has lost much of its beauty. From Bois le Duc I was ticketed to quit the country. I had seen the cathedral, and time hung heavily, so I wandered back to the station all of an hour before the scheduled departure of my train, to jot down a few notes and indulge in a few final musings upon a great nation--the only little thing about which I found to be its area--a nation of great deeds in peace and in war, a nation of great men, a nation that has, by the sheer character of its people, surmounted great obstacles, and a nation with a future as great as its past.