Eight polite sentences and about a dozen ‘algemeene opmerkingen’ remained unused, besides two general topics—‘boomkweekerij’ and Rembrandt.
HOUD UWEN BEK.
But what did he mean by ‘Ik zal het U zenden?’ What was it that he meant to send? I devoutly hoped there would be no further difficulty about my address, and was just trusting I had escaped, when the landlady entered with the words, “Hij moet zijn hoed hebbe.” Then, as she took it in her hand, she added “Mijnheer zegt, dat het niet veilig in huis is—niet veilig, zegt mijnheer!”
“Hij vraagt ook wat de groote letter is vóór O’Neill? Of het een J of een I of een T of een F of een Y is, niemand op het kantoor kan het uitmaken, Uw handschrift is zoo onduidelijk, zegt mijnheer.”
Relieved to see there was nothing worse, I went to some old copies of the ‘Nieuws van den Dag,’ which were lying carefully folded up on the side-table, and with a pair of scissors cut out a J from the word Juli, pasted it hastily on a sheet of notepaper and wrote underneath it, ‘Met veel complimenten—en de groeten.’
Yes; the interview was decidedly successful.
Yet it pales before the fame I once got by a single sentence, just outside de Beurs-station, in Rotterdam.
STILL MUCH ADMIRED.
I was pounced upon by an army of porters; they had seized me and my bag, and were quarrelling loudly. I said “Hush” to the worst of them, but one brawny rascal was inclined to be insolent, and I was put upon my mettle.