Cleanliness Enthroned.

Hawera Star, Volume XLV, 1 August 1925, Page 11

Cleanliness Enthroned.

Is cleanliness next to Godliness? asks Winifride Wrench in Overseas. In the first place it depends on what you mean by Godliness, and in the second place presumably on your standard of cleanliness. In most departments of life, however, cleanliness undoubtedly means so much more beauty in the world. But it too often goes with a prim stiffness and starchiness that damps the spirits,- As for the adage that dirt is picturesque, I suspect the truth is that the disorder that so often accompanies dirt, is picturesque, whereas the dirt in itself is always and everywhere ugly.

Certainly in Holland, where I spent two weeks of my holiday last year, cleanliness enhances the beauty of that delightful and orderly little country, Holland without a doubt must be the cleanest and tidiest country in the world. ITow has it been achieved ? How is it possible for a whole people to keep a whole country always clean and neat? During my fortnight I saw three untidy things. Some barbarian had thrown monkey-nut shells under a seat on a platform, where they had escaped detection. In Amsterdam I caught sight of some paper lying in one of the streets. In Rotterdam I saw an untidy Clipboard.

I saw no slovenly man or woman or grubby child, of the type that makes one ashamed of industrial civilisation, such as we know it in our big cities. I saw intead hundreds of lacecapped peasants or gaily pinafored children, with honey-coloured hair, fresh and sweet as flowers. I saw thousands of shining glass panes, never a grimy one. I saw hundreds of pleasantly gay shops, arranged, no matter what the goods, with an eye for symmetry and design that far surpasses the average windowdressing in this country. Even the sausages in the delicatessen shops were hung in rows according to size, and the cheeses, tinned fruit and vegetables made the bravest and most enticing show possible in serried ranks.

I had a peep into the Dutch kitchen in the 1 louse of a well-to-do family. All the walls were lined four or five feet high with white tiles decorated with a charming floral design in plum colour. Above, the shelves were painted that peculiar blue that one learns to associate with Dutch domesticity. The chairs and tables were also blue. And (need I add ?) the brass and copper shone and gleamed as brightly as tradition would have.it. “What a pleasant place to work in,” I thought, and contrasted the gloomy kitchens that, too often are found in this country.

T visited a farmhouse in that attractive stretch of country that lies along the shores of the Zuider Zee in North Holland. There they are built of one pattern, a large and ample barn, down either side of which run the cowstalls. At one end there is a capacious fireplace; beyond, and cut off from the barn, are two living rooms,.but sometimes the stalls are walled in and turned into extra sleeping rooms; men and cattle sleeping under one ?oot*. Does that matter? Not at all l Are not the stalls whitewashed every week and the woodwork scrubbed with soap and water eyeiy dav and the cows washed and brushed from head to tail? The outsides of the houses are always washed, too.

I discussed this question of cleanliness with my Dutch friends. I said: “WJiat has made you so extraordinarily clean when your nextdoor neighbours in Belgium are less paiticular? How has vour whole nation reached the standard of cleanliness in their surroundings that is only to be found in the medical profession in other countries? Who started it, and

The Tidiest Country in the World, Land of Soap and Water. A Holiday Among the Dutch.

how lias it been maintained?” They looked amused. One said it was the presence of so much water; another that so much butter and cheese Avas made in the country, under Government control, that cleanliness had become a habit; a third declared that his countrymen were of a very economical turn of mind and they realised that cleanliness preserved the life of their possessions; a fourth laughed and said, “We have made a god of cleanliness in our houses, but our persons and our food suffer.” I admit that I prefer English food on the Avhole to Dutch. For one thing there seems to be more of it, at any rate at breakfast time; in Holland I got up from the table somewhat dissatisfied. I like to cut my own bread and butter and to pour out my oavii tea. If you are living in Holland as the simpler folk live and as I did, you will get a plate of thick slices of bread and butter, a piece of ginger cake and a piece of cheese, or .thin slices of smoked bacon or horseflesh, on Avhich to start the day. The tea will have been poured out into cups, and is very strong and very sAA’eet, and if you say you like tea A T erv weak and sugarless, you are considered not a little odd. I strove for jugs of hot water, not only for my tea, but for myself, and got them with courteous smiles of surprise. It Avas not always easy to get enough hot AA’ater to Avasli in; the Dutch use cold, summer and Avinter, and are apt to think hot Avater an extravagance and not so clean as cold Avater.

They are curiously fond of raw food. Smoked horse is quite palatable, and after all the horse is a much cleaner feeder than the pig. On mv second evening in The Hague I started dinner with my kind hosts with mys-terious-looking brown slabs of something on bread and butter. I bravely ate it without much enthusiasm, and was then told it was raw herring. During the war, when food was scarce in England, the Dutch sent us over a consignment of raw herring as a great delicacy, but, alas! for the bad taste of the unappreciative Briton, no one would eat those uncooked herrings and they were thrown on the land for manure. This story still shocks the frugal Dutch mind. And talking of frugality, I noticed in one of the Government offices that the blotting paper was bound round the edges to make it last longer. The Dutch abhor waste

Owing to their universal passion for polishing, fhe Dutch, from our point of view, make work. They love brass and they love it to shine. I mildly suggested that they might have it lacquered and so save themselves. They looked at me with pity. No, the Dutch will be clean and no one shall stop them. At the same time they have their own notions o labour-saving, and who shall say how much their national habit of tidiness saves them m time and temper ] I give one instance of their tvpe of labour-saving. In every well-regulated Dutch household the best tea set is kept m the drawing room on a tray, with an old-fashioned box containing Ihe silver spoons and a tea caddy, all carefully covered with a muslin or ninon cover, which is removed at tea time. When tea is over, a special bowl'of warm soapy water and dish cloths are brought in by the maid, when the lady of the house proceeds to wash up her china and silver. It is never allowed to go out to the kitchen. Owing to this careful habit, many Dutch families have preserved their old china for generations. It. would, indeed, be well if we in England were more houseproud. A holiday in Holland is worth whole, if for no other reason than to raise one’s standard of cleanliness.