The Netherlands have contributed more than tulip bulbs and wooden shoes to the furtherance of civilization. On our five-day cruise through the Dutch canals we found "Heineken's Bier" superior to any brand on tap at Jim Cronin's. Judging by our boat, however, the country's sea power is declining. "The "Swallow IT" was a 20-foot converted life boat with a lowerable mast which left the vessel still too high to go under bridges, an engine which required the constant attention of two deafencd men, and a stove that never worked. But the scenery and the people made up for the lack in the transportation.

The Dutch seem much warmer hearted and less materialistic than their hard-currency neighbors, the Belgians. Most of the Dutch I met this summer were very eager to talk to foreigners, and interested in America. They were cheerful, extremely proud of their country, and loved to talk of it.

One notices immediately the industriousness of the people and the thorough job of cleaning up the war damage and done. Rotterdam, greatly devastated, is at the moment building several spiffy functional department stores to fill the grassy vacuum in the middle of the city. The fight against the sea continues; the canals are constantly dredged; and the whole Zuider Zee is being transformed into land.

Cigarettes

Holland seems actually better off than France and Italy in spite of having meat rationing and insisting that tourists keep track of the money they spend. A sure sign of this is that man in Holland is offended if you refuse the cigarette he offers while the Frenchman or Italian does not expect you to take it.

We viewed an endless panorama of cows, cabbage patches and windmills on the sides of the canals; the towns were frequent and quaint. In the morning we would be awakened by enthusiastic peddlers who leaned into our boat in an attempt to sell us fruit of round cheeses which you ate by carving out from the inside like a jack's lantern. When we washed our dishes in the canals watered with Rhine sewage bright-eyed kiddies and incredulous adults gathered. Little boys who could speak English always appeared at crucial moments to direct us to grocery stores or lead us to inns where we could buy an eel dinner.

Grocery Stores

Remarkably many of the people did speak English. Unfortunately grocery stores were the only places where no one could understand us. Generally comprehension increased if you asked for "viskey" instead of "whiskey," but shopping remained a difficulty. We once solved the problem by inducing a black marketer who wanted to change a few guilders to help us buy the routine quota of Maggi soup, meat, and bisquets before entering monetary negotiations.

Holland is still picturesque: large hay-boats sail by on the North Sea Canal. When we went under draw bridges the operators lowered small wooden shoes so we could put in a few cents toil. On the other hand, there are many signs of American influence. The proprietor of a very small hotel in Enkhuizen, where few Americans venture, offered me several copies of "Life" while I waited to use his phone. One Sunday we arrived at the tourist-frequented island of Marken to be serenaded by a large excursion steamer blazing the strains of "Cruising Down the River" by Bing Crosby and the Andrew Sisters.

We noticed too that Dutch sailors and American movies have introduced a new set of dance steps into Holland that is all the rage. They call it "yitter-bugging."