carries an umbrella and offers to show Amsterdam in such a way as to
save you much money. He is quite useless, and the quickest means of
getting free is to say that you have come to the city for no other
purpose than to pay extravagantly for everything. So stupendous an
idea checks even his importunity for a moment, and while he still
reels you can escape. The guides outside the Ryks Museum who offer to
point out the beauties of the pictures are less persistent. It would
seem as if they were aware of the unsoundness of their case. There
is no need to reply to these at all.

On the Dam also is the Royal Palace, which once was the stadhuis,
but in 1808 (when Amsterdam was the third city of the French Empire)
was offered to Louis Napoleon for a residence. Queen Wilhelmina
occasionaly stays there, but The Hague holds her true home. The
apartments are florid and not very interesting; but if the ascent of
the tower is permitted one should certainly make it. It is interesting
to have Amsterdam at one's feet. Only thus can its peculiar position
and shape be understood: its old part an almost perfect semicircle,
with canal-arcs within arcs, and its northern shore washed by the Y.

Also on the Dam is the New Church, which is to be seen more for the
tomb of De Ruyter than for any architectural graces. The old sea dog,
whose dark and determined features confront one in Bol's canvases
again and again in Holland, reposes in full dress on a cannon amid
symbols of his victories. Close by, in the Royal Palace, are some of
the flags which he wrested from the English. Other admirals also lie
there, the Dutch naval commander never having wanted for honour in
his own country.

The New Church, where the monarchs of Holland are crowned, has a very