"A little, a very little--_very_."
He seemed not only disappointed, but indignant. He explained the matter
to the crowd, and they all seemed indignant.
_Why_ everybody should be indignant with me I could not comprehend.
There are plenty of people who do not understand Scandinavian. It was
absurd to be vexed with me because _I_ did not. I do know a little, and
that is more than some people do.
I inquired of the old gentleman about B. He did understand me. I must
give him credit for that. But beyond understanding me, he was of no more
use than the others; and why they had taken so much trouble to fetch him,
I could not imagine.
What would have happened if the difficulty had continued much longer (for
I was getting thoroughly wild with the lot of them) I cannot say.
Fortunately, at this moment I caught sight of B. himself, who had just
entered the room.
I could not have greeted him more heartily if I had wanted to borrow
money of him.
"Well, I _am_ glad to see you again!" I cried. "Well, this _is_
pleasant! I thought I had lost you!"
"Why, you are English!" cried out the old gentleman in the white hat, in
very good Saxon, on hearing me speak to B.
"Well, I know that," I replied, "and I'm proud of it. Have you any
objection to my being English?"
"Not in the least," he answered, "if you'd only talk English instead of
Norwegian. I'm English myself;" and he walked away, evidently much
puzzled.
B. said to me as we sat down:
"I'll tell you what's the matter with you, J.--you know too many
languages for this continent. Your linguistic powers will be the ruin of
us if you don't hold them in a bit. You don't know any Sanscrit or
Chaldean, do you?"