‘U moet es eve kome kijke, mijnheer.’
The request was odd, and I refused at first. As he persisted, however, I accompanied him downstairs, wondering whether there was an acrobat performing in the market-place or if a statue had been erected whilst I was at dinner.
When we came outside, there was nothing remarkable to be seen in the street. My guide, however, didn’t mind that, but pointing triumphantly to the sky where the full moon was shining, he exclaimed with delight: “Daar, mijnheer, kijk nou is, nietwaar?”
It looked like boyish chaff, getting the foreigner to leave his room to gaze at the ‘man in the moon’, and I was dumb with indignation at his audacity. Gradually, however, the facts of the case emerged. The youth was only considerately anxious that I should not miss seeing the big Dutch moon itself, which was indeed that evening particularly fine. It was a ‘mooi maan’ not “man”.
Yes; the long and the short a are not to be trifled with, and you’ll get into no end of trouble if you ever mix them.
[CHAPTER VIII.]
OUT FOR A WALK.
Starting one morning for a long ramble in the country I took the first stage by tram. It was very early, and as there were no other passengers, the conductor was disposed to be communicative. He was absolutely eager to talk, and he came up to me at once.
Now I have noticed that at one time it is much easier to express oneself in a foreign language than at another.