CHAPTER XXXVIII

High Dutch.

It was evening: and myself and the two acquaintances I had made in the

fair--namely, the jockey and the tall foreigner--sat in a large upstairs

room, which looked into a court; we had dined with several people

connected with the fair at a long _table d'hote_; they had now departed,

and we sat at a small side-table with wine and a candle before us; both

my companions had pipes in their mouths--the jockey a common pipe, and

the foreigner, one, the syphon of which, made of some kind of wood, was

at least six feet long, and the bowl of which, made of a white kind of

substance like porcelain, and capable of holding nearly an ounce of

tobacco, rested on the ground. The jockey frequently emptied and

replenished his glass; the foreigner sometimes raised his to his lips,

for no other purpose seemingly than to moisten them, as he never drained

his glass. As for myself, though I did not smoke, I had a glass before

me, from which I sometimes took a sip. The room, notwithstanding the

window was flung open, was in general so filled with smoke, chiefly that

which was drawn from the huge bowl of the foreigner, that my companions

and I were frequently concealed from each other's eyes. The

conversation, which related entirely to the events of the fair, was

carried on by the jockey and myself, the foreigner, who appeared to

understand the greater part of what we said, occasionally putting in a

few observations in broken English. At length the jockey, after the

other had made some ineffectual attempts to express something

intelligibly which he wished to say, observed, "Isn't it a pity that so

fine a fellow as meinheer, and so clever a fellow too, as I believe him

to be, is not a better master of our language?"

"Is the gentleman a German?" said I; "if so, I can interpret for him

anything he wishes to say."

"The deuce you can," said the jockey, taking his pipe out of his mouth,

and staring at me through the smoke.

"Ha! you speak German," vociferated the foreigner in that language. "By

Isten, I am glad of it! I wanted to say--" And here he said in German

what he wished to say, and which was of no great importance, and which I

translated into English.

"Well, if you don't put me out," said the jockey; "what language is

that--Dutch?"

"High Dutch," said I.

"High Dutch, and you speak High Dutch,--why, I had booked you for as

great an ignoramus as myself, who can't write--no, nor distinguish in a

book a great A from a bull's foot."

"A person may be a very clever man," said I--"no, not a clever man, for

clever signifies clerkly, and a clever man one who is able to read and

write, and entitled to the benefit of his clergy or clerkship; but a

person may be a very acute person without being able to read or write. I

never saw a more acute countenance than your own."

"No soft soap," said the jockey, "for I never uses any. However, thank

you for your information; I have hitherto thought myself a'nition clever

fellow, but from henceforth shall consider myself just the contrary, and

only--what's the word?--confounded 'cute."

"Just so," said I.

"Well," said the jockey, "as you say you can speak High Dutch, I should

like to hear you and master six foot six fire away at each other."

"I cannot speak German," said I, "but I can understand tolerably well

what others say in it."

"Come no backing out," said the jockey, "let's hear you fire away for the

glory of Old England."

"Then you are a German?" said I, in German to the foreigner.

"That will do," said the jockey, "keep it up."

"A German!" said the tall foreigner. "No, I thank God that I do not

belong to the stupid sluggish Germanic race, but to a braver, taller, and

handsomer people;" here taking the pipe out of his mouth, he stood up

proudly erect, so that his head nearly touched the ceiling of the room,

then reseating himself, and again putting the syphon to his lips, he

added, "I am a Magyar."

"What is that?" said I.

The foreigner looked at me for a moment, somewhat contemptuously, through

the smoke, then said, in a voice of thunder, "A Hungarian!"

"What a voice the chap has when he pleases!" interposed the jockey; "what

is he saying?"

"Merely that he is a Hungarian," said I; but I added, "the conversation

of this gentleman and myself in a language which you can't understand

must be very tedious to you, we had better give it up."

"Keep on with it," said the jockey, "I shall go on listening very

contentedly till I fall asleep, no bad thing to do at most times."