He seemed to measure the distance between his seat and the door; but I rose and walked about the room, repeating softly to myself such phrases as I knew well, no matter what meaning they might have—“Lamaar! pas op! niet pluis, hoor!—’t komt er niet op aan!”
Some midges were buzzing about the room. I pointed to them saying “akelige beesten, nie waar?” And making a sudden spring towards one that was approaching his head I impaled it, or rather smashed it, in the approved fashion between my hands. The fragments of the insect I displayed to him on my palm adding triumphantly; “Dood als een pier.” He was ready to go.
A LINGUISTIC VICTORY.
Laying at last a fatherly hand upon his shoulder I genially enquired, “Vergun my te vragen, jongeling,—hoe is het—met uwe—achtenswaardige ouders?”
“O ja, mijnheer”, he said in a breathless whisper. “Ja zeker, mijnheer. Dank U zeer—Ik moet weg, sir. Ik heb belet—thuis—Ik moet weg—Ik zal het U zenden.”—
And he was gone! gone, too, without his hat!
I was left master of the field.
Ringing the bell, I rushed to the landing and called after him, “Duizendmaal vergiffenis, Bevolkings Mijnheer!—Uw hoed!”
But that hurried him only the more swiftly down those steep stairs; and I was sincerely glad to observe that the landlady, like a good goal-keeper, had stopped him at the door, where they entered into earnest colloquy.
I had won this conversational contest; and half my ammunition was not yet expended!