winds in and out among the pines on the edge of the dunes; past little
villas, belonging chiefly to Amsterdam business men, each surrounded by
a naked garden with the merest suggestion of a boundary. For the Dutch
do not like walls or hedges. This level open land having no natural
secrecy, it seems as if its inhabitants had decided there should be
no artificial secrecy either. When they sit in their gardens they
like to be seen. An Englishman's first care when he plans a country
estate is not to be overlooked; a Dutchman would cut down every tree
that intervened between his garden chair and the high road.

Fun has often been made of the names which the Dutch merchants give
to their country houses, but they seem to me often to be chosen with
more thought than those of similar villas in our country. Here are
a few specimens: Buiten Gedachten (Beyond Expectation), Ons Genoegen
(Our Contentment), Lust en Rust (Pleasure and Rest), Niet Zoo Quaalyk
(Not so Bad), Myn Genegenhied is Voldaan (My Desire is Satisfied),
Mijn Lust en Leven (My Pleasure and Life), Vriendschap en Gezelschap
(Friendship and Sociability), Vreugde bij Vrede (Joy with Peace), Groot
Genoeg (Large Enough), Buiten Zorg (Without Care). These names at any
rate convey sentiments which we may take to express their owners'
true feelings in their owners' own language; and as such I prefer
them to the "Chatsworths" and "Belle-vues," "Cedars" and "Towers,"
with which the suburbs of London teem. In a small inland street in
Brighton the other day I noticed a "Wave Crest".

The dunes extend for miles: an empty wilderness of sand with the
grey North Sea beyond. From the high points one sees inland not only
Haarlem, just below, but the domes and spires of Amsterdam beyond.

One may return to Haarlem by way of Bloemendaal, a green valley