THE RAG MARKET Al BRUGES. O* a fair July morning, four very cheerful pilgrims sallied forth from the Hotel der Commerce, at Bruges, to explore the wonders of the “ quaint old Flemish City.” Pretty, fat Madame Van der Berghe, nicest and kindest of landladies, smiled at us from the door of ; her little office among her vines and canary ~ S birds. Monsieur, her husband, bowed to us from the door of his little salon among his Delft plates, jars and bowls. Charles, the fuzzy-haired waiter, watched our start with acourtly greeting from the dining- room — his white napkin tucked under hisarm. Marie, the chamber-maid, and even the stolid ‘“ Boots,” had a pleasant word for us as we went through the courtyard, for they were all old friends. And if you had searched Belgium over you could not have found a cheerier quartet than were we, or four people more bent on having a good time. Would you like to make our acquaintance? First, there was H., commonly known as “Mrs. Jack’? —a dainty person who always contrived to look neat, and fresh, and cool at the end of the longest and dustiest journey. She was-our only matron, and pretended it was her business to keep us all in great order — though she was by no means the eldest of the party, nor the tallest either — and occasionally I must confess poor “ Mrs. Jack” got most unmercifully teased by her rebellious seniors. Next comes G., who was never addressed by any other name than “ Her- cules.” She, as you may guess, was the tallest and strongest, and had an unpleasant habit of going ont 1 f soe at five A.M. every day, and walk- i le eS ing for miles all over the country C and town, appearing at our Mh inv SF i bedsides at half-past seven Fas ne a svn cite to tell us how much we had ou Ne eee missed by our laziness, and hurry- ing us to get into our baths as she was so hungry and wanted her breakfast. Hercules was never tired and never cross. She always seized upon everybody’s traveling bags in addition to her \ \ “WAVE YOU ANY OLD LACE?” od IN THE FLOWER MARKET,