“The Philosopher’s right,” I urged. “Our minds are a chaos after O’Neill’s descriptions. We’ll only pardon you, Jack, all that golden haze and the Rembrandts, if you condescend to plain facts. Tell us now about your Dutch. Do. We’re absolutely thirsting for an account of your adventures. Or were you too timid to embark on the open sea of the taal, sticking cravenly to English all the time? Why I thought you had more go.”
MASTERING DUTCH IN A FORTNIGHT.
“Mr. O’Neill promised to master the language in the first fortnight”, chimed in the First Year’s man in his high boyish voice, “and to finish the principal Dutch classics in the second fortnight. Those were his very words.”
[CHAPTER II.]
GRAMMAR AND PHRASE BOOK.
“Well”, said O’Neill with a kind of sickly smile, “I didn’t get so very much time, you see, either for the Literature or for the Language. Of course there was much sight-seeing, and—I spent a good deal of time over the pictures, which——”
The Philosopher shut his eyes, heaved an audible sigh, but said nothing.
“And”, continued Jack hastily without seeming to notice the interruption, “my efforts to speak Dutch were not always appreciated”.
“Really?” said the First Year’s man, with sudden interest.