Next evening Jack O’Neill resumed his narrative to myself alone, on the understanding that our friends would drop in if they could.
“Where was I?” he said. “Ah, yes, I had just told you about the wash-list.
“Well; I learnt many things in the next few days, said he,—especially grammar. Rules and exceptions I committed to memory and could rattle you off werkwoorden and voortzetsels, bijvoegelijke naamwoorden, verleden deelwoorden and onbepaalde wijzen with vigour and promptitude.
In walking about the town and neighbourhood, too, I caught up more and more of those native idioms that give colour and fragrance to one’s speech. Of course I was at a loss now and again to explain what I heard and saw.
The notice boards, for example, of some inn such as “De Nieuwe Aanleg” remained somewhat mysterious; and on enquiry a satisfactory translation was never forthcoming. “The New Genius” was very wide of the mark, evidently. “The New Tendency” was equally obscure.
WHAT’S PUT IN DUTCH?
Two common English verbs I found very difficult to render exactly. These were ‘drive’ and ‘put’.
‘Put’ you have to use so often that it is certainly provoking to hunt for a new verb almost every time you have a fresh order to give. ‘Put it down’, ‘put it in the cupboard,’ ‘put it in the hall’—well, I managed these somehow. But when it came to having letters posted, I was a long time at sea.
I wrote a good deal; and ‘put that letter in the box’ was a common order I had to give. Now ‘box’ was easy enough, for the receptacle in the street was duly called ‘Brievenbus’. But when I said, ‘Plaats dien brief in de brievenbus,’ the maidservant stared at me as if I was hardly human.
‘Zet’ and ‘werp’ were not much clearer, apparently. ‘Gooi’, I must admit, always made her perform the task with alacrity, but with an air that plainly said the matter was not very serious.