“Or for finance,” added the First Year’s Man.
“Did your medieval purchases do all for you that you expected?” enquired the Philosopher.
“Well, hardly,” said Jack.
“After my first success I somewhat underestimated the difficulties of the idiom. But I worked hard at the grammar.”
A LITERARY FIND.
“Ah! a Grammar?” interrupted the Professor. “Did you say you acquired a Grammar? I am interested. Could you manage to describe those volumes now, if it’s not too great a strain?”
“Oh, the books!” resumed O’Neill. “Well—there was a little fat Dictionary, closely printed, with Dutch into English and English into Dutch; and there was a handsome new Phrase-book in brilliant colours, containing conversations on the most unlikely topics. But I admit the Grammar Exercise-book was the gem of the collection. It was printed on a kind of dusky paper, something like blot-sheet, and it bore the date 1807. It had six hundred and thirty-one exercises, double ones, Dutch into English and English into Dutch—and contained many idioms, hints, exceptions, and explanations. In warnings, foot-notes, and asterisks it was particularly rich. Not a few pages were ornamented with Nota Bene’s of various brands, with hands, large and small, drawing attention to them. The English of this manual was very odd, and by and by I got the impression that the Dutch was rather shaky too. Not that I guessed this at first, you may be sure; but it gradually dawned upon me.
A PLENTIFUL HARVEST.
I took a certain pride in my treasures, and set about studying them with zeal. No doubt it was disappointing just at the beginning to read: Nota Bene—No one but a Dutchman can emit this sound; or this: “N. B. *.*.*. This sound must be heard. It is something like U but cannot be otherwise described. It cannot be represented by any known letters. Foreigners need not try it.”