The tram-conductor emphatically agreed with my criticism. “Kolossaal!” he repeated.
Thus encouraged I attempted to contribute something further to the conversation, and catching sight of a lofty lightning-conductor, on the church-steeple, I tried to draw his attention to it by an easy grammatical remark.
The word ‘lightning-conductor’ did not seem to present difficulties.
‘Lightning’ of course I remembered, though I ought to have forgotten it long ago. No doubt it was to be approached with caution; but as this was a matter of pure science I felt tolerably safe. As for ‘conductor’, there could be little doubt as as to the way to render that, for ‘conducteur’ was stamped on the tram-man’s buttons, and had been staring me in the face for the last half-hour. Those buttons were as good as a dictionary.
Putting together then the component parts of ‘lightning-conductor,’ I hazarded a bold guess, and waving my hand towards the steeple I said cordially, “Ja, de toren is mooi—kolossaal mooi. Gunst; ja.—Zoo is ook die bliksem-conducteur! Vind U niet?”
TAKE CARE OF YOUR WORDS.
Well, he stopped as if I had struck him; his face got fiery red, and he walked away without a word!
What had I done? There was no denying something had gone wrong. Evidently the man was choking with rage, and he didn’t as much as glance at me for the rest of the journey.
That same afternoon I reported the affair to Enderby, who grew quite gruff and crusty before I had finished the narration.