Middelburg has never known a day's suffering since her siege. A
local proverb says, "Goed rond, goed Zeeuwsch"--very round, very
Zeelandish--and an old writer--so M. Havard tells us--describes
Middelburg as a "round faced city". If by round we mean not only
circular but also plump and comfortable, we have Middelburg and its
sons and daughters very happily hit off. Structurally the town is
round: the streets curve, the Abbey curves; seen from a balloon or
the summit of the church tower, the plan of the city would reveal
itself a circle. And there is a roundness also in the people. They
smile roundly, they laugh roundly, they live roundly.
The women and girls of Middelburg are more comely and winsome than any
in Holland. Their lace caps are like driven snow, their cheeks shine
like apples. But their way with their arms I cannot commend. The sleeve
of their bodices ends far above the elbow, and is made so tight that
the naked arm below expands on attaining its liberty, and by constant
and intentional friction takes the hue of the tomato. What, however,
is to our eyes only a suggestion of inflammation, is to the Zeelander a
beauty. While our impulse is to recommend cold cream, the young bloods
of Middelburg (I must suppose) are holding their beating hearts.
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