Before I had made out what this friendly mariner wanted to be at, the shopman had produced a tiny fishing-rod and tackle, which he planted down before me with an air of triumph, “Als ’t U blieft, Mynheer!”
POENTEKENS.
“Neen—Ik bid U”—I explained, grasping for my manuscript. A glance at the document told me that the next word for nib was punt, plural probably “punten”, pronunciation doubtful.
“Mynheer”, I said, “zou U zoo goed willen wezen my te zeggen.... verkoopt UE poenten?”
“Wat zegt U, Mynheer?”
I explained “Zou U zoo goed willen zijn mij beleefd te zeggen en te verwittigen, verkoopt UEdele poenten of poentekens?”
I put in the “UEdele” once, you see, to propitiate the shopman, who was growing flurried, as the shop was beginning now to fill with customers. He didn’t seem, however, more than half pleased at being called “UEdele”; so I determined to give him another pronoun next time—there was plenty of choice without touching on the despised “jy.”
A STUMPER.
“Ik bid U verschoon my!.... Mag ik beleefd verzoeken, verkoopt gy (lieden) spitsen?” When I came to the brackets of the (lieden) I expressed them vaguely by a graceful sweep of both hands.
No; he shrugged his shoulders in good-natured perplexity; he didn’t understand; and indeed my rendering of the (lieden) may have confused him.