Wants to be a carpenter—the boy is insane—A mason—see the accidents that happen to masons. Each trade has something.
Bos.
Yes, Barendje—There are risks in all trades—my boy. Just think of the miners, the machinists, the stokers—the—the—How often do not I, even now, climb the man rope, or row out to a lugger? Fancies, my boy! You must not give way to them.
Kneir.
And we have no choice. God alone knows what the winter will be. All the potatoes rotted late this fall, Meneer.
Bos.
Yes, all over the district. Well, boy?
Bar.
No, Meneer.
Kneir.