"Oh dear, no! He is a lawyer like me."
"Then what does he want with a barn?"
"Every couple [pronounced copol] wants burn," he replied.
"What is it they want?" I asked. "What do you call burn?"
"Burn," he explained, "is pluriel for barn. Eight barn, two burn."
"What?" I cried, "eight barns to burn! Why do they want to burn eight barns? They must be crazy!"
All this will sound to you as idiotic as it did to me, but you will get the explanation at the end of the chapter, as I did—on the drive home—the two hours of which were entirely taken up in laughing at the mistakes of the good lawyer, who did his best.
Our conversation languished after this. My brain could not bear such a strain. Suddenly he got up from his chair. I thought that he was going to take himself and his English away, but after he had quaffed a whole glass of wine, at one swallow, bowed over it, and pointed his empty glass at Johan, he resumed his seat, and conversation flowed again.
It seems that Johan had honored him with a friendly nod and an uplifted glass, which obliged him to arise and acknowledge the compliment.
In Denmark there is a great deal of skaal-drinking (skaal, in Danish, means drinking a toast). I think there must be an eleventh commandment—"Thou shalt not omit to skaal." The host drinks with every one, and every one drinks with every one else. It seems to me to be rather a cheap way of being amiable, but it looks very friendly and sociable. When a person of high rank drinks with one of lower the latter stands while emptying his glass.