THE VCAG @MARISE TT VAT BRUGES.

At first, the friends saw nothing in the heaps about them but new imitation
lace of the commonest description. But a kind of groan of ecstacy from the
Interpreter caused them to change their minds. She was stooping — almost on
her knees — before a hideous old Flemish woman, who sat knitting among her
rags under a tree. In a broken bandbox at the old dame’s feet was a mass of
dingy yellowish scraps.

Yes; it was lace— real lace — yellow with age, black with dirt; probably,
as Hercules kindly suggested, reeking with infection. But never mind. Ina
moment the contents of the box were scattered over the carpet before the old
woman, who knitted on with an unmoved face. There were treasures in it.
Bits of Valenciennes edging, cuffs and collars of old Bruges-point, long strips
of coarse point off altar cloths and church hangings, Antwerp lace caps, such
as the women wore fifty years ago, and a deep collar of old Brussels-point.
Then Capable lifted her eyes, and on the string behind the old woman, among a
lot of rubbish, hung two or three veils or fichus of some fine unknown lace,
delicate and filmy.

The pilgrims were half-crazy with delight. But they had the presence of
mind to conceal their feelings, and asked with contemptuous gestures, “ Oie vele?”
as they picked out one morsel after another. What-
ever price the old woman named, they invariably
answered back with their second Flemish sentence,
“ Te deere;” all except Hercules, who, in spite of
her promise, could not resist remarking with a face
of rapture, “Oh! how cheap.” If they had been
left to their own devices, it is impossible to say how
their bargains would have ended, as the. old dame
could not speak a word of French, and was supremely
indifferent as to whether she sold
her lace or no. But in less time
than it takes to tell, a dense crowd
of good-natured, uncouth peasants
had gathered about the pilgrims,
roaring with laughter at this fresh
proof of the popular belief that all
English people are crazy, and offer-
ing advice to both buyers and sellers

kyon every deal. One woman at last
constituted herself interpre- Tes ter; and by her means each of the
quartet found themselves at ' the end of half an hour in possession
of a little bundle of unsavory scraps, for a very trifling cost. Mrs. Jack was the
proud possessor of the Brussels-point collar, for which she paid eight francs.
Capable succeeded in buying the two lace veils, and some scraps thrown in, for

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    

“TE DEERE.”