THE RAG MARKET AT BRUGES.

had been on the Dyver. The Grande Place was as gay as a fair. The umbrella
merchant shouted out the excellence of his wares from a tent made of one vast.
red-cotton umbrella. The stalls of woollen goods were gorgeous with piles of
deep orange-colored blankets,
among the sober brown cloths and
flame-colored flannels from Ver-
viers. One street of booths was
devoted to tinware ; tin boxes, tin
pails — blue, red, yellow and green
—which the Flemish people use
instead of baskets. Cradles on
high, carved rockers stood beside
mountains of wooden sabots. Bas-
kets and gingerbread, cat skins
and lamb skins, brooms with red
handles, poppy heads “ pour faire
THE MUSSEL SELLERS. . endormir les bébés,” white caps, pink
and gray yarn, boots, gay-colored
handkerchiefs, were stacked and hung in the stalls. And pipkins, pots and pans
of every shade of yellow, orange, green and purple, and of every possible shape
and size, from huge jars that looked as if the Forty Thieves might have
hidden in them, down to tiny green and yellow toy jugs, were heaped on the
ground.

Capable sat down in front of a mercer’s stall, and, pulling out her sketch-
book, began to draw an old
country-woman who was en-
chanted at the compliment, and
instantly threw herself into half
a dozen becoming attitudes. She
really was a splendid old dame
—very fat, with a dark dress,
blue apron, green body, a black-
and-red cotton handkerchief
crossed over her shoulders, a fine
lace collar, lace cap with long
lappet-ears bound on her head
with a black ribbon, enormous gold earrings and cross, and a capacious basket
full of chickens and eggs on each arm. In a minute a crowd began to gather
—such a crowd—men, women and children, who roared with laughter, and
expressed intense delight at what they considered the truly remarkable likeness
Capable had produced of the “oude mudder.” But even a hardened traveler
like Capable cannot get over a certain dislike to a crowd shouting and laughing

 

 

‘¢ PIPKINS, POTS AND PANS,”