"Then he would surely say that, too, of a book of music?" asked Marjon.
"That I do not know," replied Johannes, "but he does say that light and darkness are exactly the same thing."
"Oh! Then I know him very well. Doesn't he say, also, that it's the same thing if you stand on your head or on your heels?"
"Exactly—that is he," said Johannes, delighted. "What have you to say about it?"
"That for all I care he can stay standing on his head; and more, too, he can choke!"
"Is that enough?" asked Johannes, somewhat doubtfully.
"Certainly," said Marjon, very positively. "Should I have to tell him that daytimes it is light, and night-times it is dark? But what put you in mind of that Jackanapes?"
"I do not know," said Johannes. "I think it was those footers."
Then they went into the deck-house where Keesje was already lying on the broad, leather-cushioned settee, all rolled up in a little ball, and softly snoring; and this cabin served the two children as a lodging-house.