“Splendid, splendid!” I exclaimed to myself. And charming indeed did my ramble prove to be.
NAAST DE PALING.
But the day was hot, and I was glad at last about eleven o’clock to come to a good-sized tea-garden over the entrance to which stood in conspicuous letters, “Uitspanning.” Here was cool shade under broad trees; and here were innumerable little tables at which a number of people were seated, laughing and chattering and lunching pleasantly, while little children, some of them not more than three years old, kept running about and playing games. And all these tiny tots, too, were talking Dutch, happily and unconcerned, tossing about in childish glee and with incredible ease, onbepaalde wijzen, verleden deelwoorden and voorzetsels, not to speak of het and hen and hun and je.
On entering this popular resort and looking round I was addressed by a breathless waiter laden with plates. “Waar wou mynheer zitten?”
The shade was deepest under a noble elm, where at this instant I spied an unoccupied seat close to the wooden paling that skirted the enclosure. I didn’t know what ‘paling’ was, but I chanced it, as there was no time for the dictionary. “Naast de paling,” I said, “als ’t U blieft.”
The impatient waiter nearly dropped his tray, but recovering himself he vanished, and I took the seat myself. Another kellner appeared,—a slow grave man in whose district was situated the attractive nook I had been fortunate enough to secure. The day was broiling hot, as I told you, and I thought I couldn’t do better than begin with a little lemon-squash.
LIEMOEN-MOES.
I could have wished to study up my part a little; but as the slow dignitary was already waiting, I asked for a “limoen en een glas water.” Having greeted my remark twice with “blief?” he drew himself up and enquired if I wanted ‘liemonade.’
“Geen kwestie van,” I said, hauling out of my pocket the little fat dictionary, that faithful companion of my wanderings. “Wacht even!” I hurriedly turned up “squash”; for on the analogy of meloen I assumed that ‘lemoen’ was all right for lemon. The verb squash was moezen; the noun moes. This latter I chose, preferring the beverage ready-made, if possible.
“Ja, kellner”—I said, “nu weet ik het al. Breng mij limoenmoes.”