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Kansas University Weekly.
The short story is fast taking precedence over the serial story in our best magazines—and who can say that it will not some day supersede the novel.
ALONE IN EUROPE.
There have been so many kindly inquiries from the friends of Miss Effie Scott as to the experiences she was meeting with in her trip abroad that we feel justified in printing a few extracts from some of the hastily written letters received from her since her arrival in Germany. Even those who are not so personally acquainted with the writer may be interested in reading some account of the way in which the American girl manages to take care of herself on a long journey in a far country. The first letter was begun in Antwerp and mailed from Cologne, and the other is from Berlin:
Yesterday afternoon after a dreary, sleety morning in the ugly North sea,—which looks very much the color and consistency of bean soup,—we reached Flushing, Holland, the entrance to the Scheldt river, leading up to Antwerp. Going up the river the tide was against us and we were obliged to cast anchor at 5:45 and remained half way between Flushing and Antwerp until after nine this morning. At Flushing I had my first glimpse at Holland, the Holland of my imagination,—all windmills (like the old one at Lawrence,) red-tiled roofs and flat country. The journey this morning up the broad shallow Scheldt gave the best imaginable view of rural Holland. What a delight after blizzardy New York to see a country as green as Kansas in May, greener, I think. I like the thrifty Dutch landscape, every inch of ground cultivated, neat houses always red—roofed, just peeping over the dykes, long straight prim rows of poplar trees. There were interesting boats too in the river, some as handsome as violin cases with elaborately carved beaks. Others, which I took to be house boats, their cabins painted a vivid light green.
But the Dutch landscape lost its interest when in the blue distance the airy spire of the great Antwerp cathedral, and then the lesser
towers and pinnacles of the splendid city, came into view. How much more satisfactory to approach a city by a river than by a railroad! If I had first seen a city in this way I think my childish ideal would have been satisfied. When we were almost to the dock a self-important little steam tug attached itself to us to bring us in. The Kensington is really too big for this river. It is the largest boat that comes to Antwerp, and it required a special dredging of the channel to let her in.
Tuesday evening.
Early yesterday morning I left my Boston friends in their beds, got an early breakfast, and started out to "do" Antwerp with my Baedeker (guide book) as escort. I stopped to look at the exterior of the cathedeal once more, then went on to the Hotel de Ville, the old Flemish town hall, built in the 16th century, a marvel of architectural beauty and elegance, and filled now with some great historical paintings. Afterwards I spent an hour wandering through the quaint narrow, winding streets, watchings the dogs tugging at their heavy loads; strolled through the old market place where the Flemish women with their heads bare and their skirts to their knees, sell vegetables, got caught, much to my delight, in a funeral procession which was headed by a long procession of priests in black and white vestments. The hearse was gorgeous with gilt and black mouldings, and the horses were draped in heavy black covers. Every man on the streets uncovered his head for a moment as the hearse passed. * * * A little after ten I went to the Stein, a mediaeval castle, once the seat of the Spanish Inquisition, now converted into a most remarkable museum of antiquities. I couldn't begin to tell you of the things in it,—ancient furniture, armor, lace, paintings, coins, china, musical instruments,—a joy forever it must be to the antiquarian. To me the most interesting things of all were the dungeons underneath, where the prisoners used to be kept, and where there are still remains of the old instruments of torture. They gave me a candle and showed me the stairway leading down, telling me to