Sometimes the grammar you have mastered becomes positively oppressive, and your tongue refuses to lend itself to the task.
I cannot tell whether it may be due to barometric pressure or to some electrical condition, but on certain days I cannot—to put it mildly—come up to my normal standard, either of perspicuity or ease.
NAAR HET EINDE.
This was one of my bad days, and I was little inclined to respond to the conductor’s advances. Fate was against me, however, for I didn’t know the name of the place I was bound for. Enderby had several times taken me to a pretty village some few miles from the Hague. It was the terminus of the tram-line, and I purposed to tram there first and then to start out on my country walk.
I had never troubled much about the geography of the district, and consequently was quite in the dark now as to what the village was called. This was awkward, for the talkative conductor was already at hand trying to open conversation.
He made a first essay by producing his bunch of tickets and asking me, “Hoe ver, mijnheer?”
I waved my hand and said, “Den geheelen weg.” Seeing he was not satisfied with this, I amplified the remark by adding “Naar het einde.”
As he was still slightly bewildered, I glanced up to the tram-car itself to ascertain, if possible, its destination. The designation of the village would surely be printed somewhere on the vehicle. Happily I could just make out at the end of a long series of hard words the name ‘Simplex’. Pointing to this with a careless flourish of my stick I said “Ja; ik ga even naar Simplex.”
A ONE-SIDED CONVERSATION.
“Net, mijnheer,” he laughed, “ha! ha!, overal reclame!”