‘I wished to ask you,’ said the old man, ‘how you knew that the characters on yon piece of crockery were Chinese; or, indeed, that there was such a language?’

‘I knew the crockery was china,’ said I, ‘and naturally enough supposed what was written upon it to be Chinese; as for there being such a language—the English have a language, the French have a language, and why not the Chinese?’

‘May I ask you a question?’

‘As many as you like.’

‘Do you know any language besides English?’

‘Yes,’ said I, ‘I know a little of two or three.’

‘May I ask their names?’

‘Why not?’ said I. ‘I know a little French.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Yes, a little Welsh, and a little Haik.’