of Manxland

Texceedingly quaint places, well

worthy a visit from the outside world as one of the typical and most interesting sights of the Isle of Man. Once a week every little town is early astir, the queer, picturesque winding roads very beehives of good natured humanity hastening on with bright anticipatory faces. Saturdays are the greatest occasions alike to buyer and seller, gala days with every one in attendance in fitting attire by reason of the market places being the acknowledged rendezvous for friends and acquaintance from far and near.

Douglas, on the south coast, as the largest and most important town, is the desire of all Manx hearts

at these week end meetings. The first thought presenting itself to the American mind on threading the maze of by-ways and mingling with the crowd, is that financially a vast amount of time and trouble have been expended for scanty return. Happily, the Manxman, looking with other eyes than those of mere profit and loss, grudges no amount of work or effort necessarily volved in taking part in these gatherings, which mean to him and his far more than any outsider can ever hope to fully comprehend.

Situated on the busiest portion of the docks, the building is most unpretentious. Within, as without, simplicity usually prevails. Around the four sides are the vegetable

Castle Rushers, at Castletown, Isle of Man.

each done out in her Sunday best with marvelous hats from which from which hang down dotted veils, idiotically beloved of femininity the world over, and for which the Manx woman retains the ancient name of "falls."

Each woman brings with her to market but a single split reed basket of modest dimensions, and before the immaculately arrayed contents of this she smilingly stands gossiping with her neighbor as she waits for purchasers. Down from each basket hangs a white enameled

again, have brought to market appetizing pats of butter and the whitest of fresh eggs. But whatsoever is exposed for sale, daintiness is the keynote to all, one basket vieing with another in exquisite spotlessness of the linen cloth, which lining the basket covers as well as the outlay, on its way to market.

Where posies tempt the eye, the flowers are bunched without touch of green other than the wide feathery fringe of fresh bracken flaunting over the rims of the large, flat, round