The chopper, who I understand is entitled only to
what he can sever with one blow, often fails to get any.
Nieuwediep and The Helder, at the extreme north of Holland, are one,
and interesting only to those to whom naval works are interesting. For
they are the Portsmouth and Woolwich of the country. My memories of
these twin towns are not too agreeable, for when I was there in 1897
the voyage from Amsterdam by the North Holland canal had chilled me
through and through, and in 1904 it rained without ceasing. Nieuwediep
is all shipping and sailors, cadet schools and hospitals. The Helder
is a dull town, with the least attractive architecture I had seen,
cowering beneath a huge dyke but for which, one is assured, it would
lie at the bottom of the North Sea. Under rain it is a drearier town
than any I know; and ordinarily it is bleak and windy, saved only
by its kites, which are flown from the dyke and sail over the sea at
immense heights. Every boy has a kite--one more link between Holland
and China.
I climbed the lighthouse at The Helder just before the lamp was lit. It
was an impressive ceremony. The captain and his men stood all ready,
the captain watching the sun as it sunk on the horizon. At the instant
it disappeared he gave the word, and at one stride came the light.
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