“D——n my eyes!”
“What!” said I, “do you mean?”
“Ja!” was the only reply.
“If you know English, why won’t you speak it?”
“D——n his eyes!” said he with a deep solemn tone.
“Is that all you know of the language?” cried I, stamping with impatience. “Can you say no more than that?”
“D——n your eyes!” ejaculated he, with as much composure, as though he were maintaining an earnest conversation.
When I had sufficiently recovered from the hearty fit of laughter this colloquy occasioned me, I began by signs, such as melodramatic people make to express sleep, placing my head in the hollow of my hand, snoring and yawning, to represent, that I stood in need of a bed.
“Ja!” cried my companion with more energy than before, and led the way down one narrow street and up another, traversing lanes, where two men could scarcely go abreast, until at length we reached a branch of the Scheldt, along which, we continued for above twenty minutes. Suddenly the sound of voices shouting a species of Dutch tune—-for so its unspeakable words, and wooden turns, bespoke it—apprised me, that we were near a house where the people were yet astir.
“Ha!” said I, “this a hotel then.”