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BY THE SAME WRITER
"IRELAND--ITS HUMOUR AND PATHOS"
Full of humour, pathos, imagination and poetry.
Wij hebben telkens gelachen om geestige uitvallen, typische
anecdoten, droog-komisch, zonder gewildheid, maar wij zijn
ook geroerd door het mooie in het karakter der Ieren, hun
vaderlandsliefde en melancholie.
A most interesting study.... graceful.... bright and
readable. (_Brit. Weekly._)
Geestig en pathetisch. (_N. Gron. Courant._)
Vol humor en geest--weemoed en melancholie.
(_Dor. Courant._)
Ingenaaid =90= ct. Gebonden f =1.25=
O'NEILL'S FURTHER ADVENTURES IN HOLLAND.
PRESS NOTICES.
Ingenaaid =90= ct. Gebonden f =1.25=
Thans kregen we de avonturen van O'Neill te hooren op een
auto-tochtje, waarbij hij te gast gaat bij een vriendelijke
boerenfamilie. O'Neill heeft razenden honger, maar tot zijn
onuitsprekelijke verbazing krijgt hij niets te eten, ofschoon hij
toch op elk vriendelijk aanbod even vriendelijk antwoordt: "dank u
wel", hierbij een getrouwe vertaling gevend van 't Engelsche: "thank
you", zonder echter 't verschil in beteekenis van beide uitdrukkingen
te kennen.
_Zijn belet vragen, zijn verwarring met biljet, en belet krijgen en
geven, zijn avonturen met den Dagtrein, die altijd 's nachts gaat
omdat het een D-trein is, een trein, die geen belet heeft en waarvoor
geen belet gevraagd behoeft te worden_,--het was alles niet om na te
vertellen maar om het uit te gieren.
An Irishman's Difficulties
with the Dutch Language
BY
CUEY-NA-GAEL
FOURTH EDITION
[Illustration]
J. M. BREDÉE'S BOEKH. EN UITGEVERS-MIJ.
ROTTERDAM
N.V. DRUKKERIJ V/H KOCH & KNUTTEL, GOUDA.
INTRODUCTION.
HAARLEM, March 1908.
_Dear Cuey-na-Gael_,
Thank you ever so much for the pleasure you gave me by sending me the
account of your friend O'Neill's experiences in our country.
It is excellent fun and the whole thing is full of quiet humour.
It cannot but be highly appreciated by all Dutch people who are trying
to master the difficulties of English, and often despair of finding the
right word for the right place. To all such it will be quite a treat to
see how their vernacular puzzled your fellow-countryman.
The booklet fully deserves a place in the libraries of our H. B.
Schools and Gymnasiums, and is sure to find one there.
Wishing you all possible success with your publication,
I remain
Yours very truly,
C. HEYMAN.
_For permission to give recitations
or readings from this book
application should be made
to the Publisher._
CONTENTS.
Page.
INTRODUCTION. v
CHAPTER I.
O'NEILL'S GREAT PLANS 1
CHAPTER II.
GRAMMAR AND PHRASE BOOK 6
CHAPTER III.
THE RECITATIONS IN THE WOOD 18
CHAPTER IV.
THE PURCHASE OF THE PENS 22
CHAPTER V.
LOCAL COLOUR 31
CHAPTER VI.
A WASH-LIST IN DUTCH 37
CHAPTER VII.
SOME MISUNDERSTANDINGS 48
CHAPTER VIII.
OUT FOR A WALK 52
CHAPTER IX.
THE QUEST OF MIJNHEER HIERNAAST 68
CHAPTER X.
THE PARCEL POST 77
CHAPTER XI.
A SUCCESSFUL INTERVIEW 89
CHAPTER XII.
DUTCH CORRESPONDENCE 100
CHAPTER I.
O'NEILL'S GREAT PLANS.
O'NEILL'S GREAT PLANS.--HUNTING IDIOMS IN THE DARK.--MASTERING DUTCH IN
A FORTNIGHT.
We were seated one November evening in O'Neill's rooms in Trinity
College Dublin when the conversation turned on modern languages.
Each had his own story to tell, but we waited in vain for our host to
unbosom himself on the subject of Dutch. Yet he was understood to have
had thrilling experiences in the Hague in August.
By a few gentle hints we endeavoured to elicit from him some talk about
his linguistic adventures, and, not succeeding very well, I at last
asked him point-blank if he didn't find Dutch hard.
"Yes", said O'Neill promptly, in answer to my question. "Yes:
it certainly _is_ hard!" he repeated, as he balanced the poker,
preparatory to smashing the biggest piece of coal on the fire. "Why
the whole thing's next to impossible!"
There was something in his tone that sounded promising. He had a
grievance evidently against the language; and there was a sufficient
amount of suppressed irritation in his voice to indicate that there
might be entertaining disclosures at hand.
Jack O'Neill had worked too closely at his mathematics the winter
before, and had taken a long holiday in summer. A month of this he had
spent in Holland to master the Dutch language, he said, and get a good
general acquaintance with Dutch Literature. These had been great plans,
and we were naturally eager to learn how they had succeeded. We had
seen, however, very little of Jack since his return, as he had been
most of the time at his aunt's place in Connemara. Now that he was back
at Trinity safe and sound, we naturally expected to get the news sooner
or later. The conditions were so favourable that evening for a talker
to spin his yarn, that we were all impatience for Jack to begin. We
settled ourselves comfortably to listen; but he did not seem in a hurry
to unfold this particular tale.
We had already heard from him a great deal about William the Silent,
and more than a great deal about Dutch art, but not a word about the
Dutch language.
Our next-door neighbours, the "Professor" and the "Philosopher"--two
students from the Cape who were working for their degree--were as
interested as I was, in O'Neill's Dutch, and they used to drop in to
hear what was going on.
It was the third evening they had called; and as it was clear that Jack
was somewhat reticent about his "linguistics", we had to guide him
gently to the subject.
"Nonsense!" I said again. "_You_ had no difficulty. You made yourself
understood from the first. You wrote me that."
"Well," said Jack, sitting bolt upright, "I know better now; and I
stopped talking Dutch when I began to understand myself. You have to
hunt in the dark," he explained, "to catch the exact word or the proper
idiom--and a man likes to know what he is talking about, himself. The
language isn't child's play, that's the truth. But it's a fine country.
You should see the light when--"
"Oh," said the Philosopher, "we don't want to hear any more about the
country. Please not. We know all about those azure heavens and the
infinite horizons and the scrumbled distances and the Rembrandt cattle,
and all that. Why, man, I'll undertake to draw from your own rhapsodies
about those pictures an absolutely correct copy of (say) Paul Potter's
'Night Watch', or van der Helst's 'Anatomy Lesson', or Mesdag's
'Lost-Chord', and the canals and the clouds and the chiaro-oscuro. You
needn't go over them again".
"But I thought", piped the First year's man, who always came in with
the Professor and never quite comprehended what was going on, "I
thought that the 'Night Watch' was not by Paul Potter. Surely the
'Night Watch' and the 'Anatomy Lesson' are two well-known pictures
by Remb--" "Never mind what you thought!" interrupted the Professor.
"Don't think, it's bad for your constitution. And above all things
don't try to be accurate, or you'll get yourself into trouble."
"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_."
"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."