Saart.
No, I’ll not sit down. My kettle is on the fire.
Jo.
Come now!
Saart.
No, I’m not going to do it—my door is ajar—and the cat may tip over the oil stove. No, just give it to me this way—so—so—many happy returns, and may your boys—Where are the boys?
Kneir.
Geert has gone to say good bye, and Barend has gone with Mees to take the mattresses and chests in the yawl. They’ll soon be here, for they must be on board by three o’clock.
Saart.
Hey, this burns my heart out. [Refers to the anisette.] Were you at Leen’s yesterday?