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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 102, June 18, 1892 by Various
page 2 of 41 (04%)
after a few hours in Holland--his images, in one form or another,
are tolerably numerous. Still, BOSCH is gratified. "Yass, dot is
ole VOLLIAM," he says, approvingly, as to a precocious infant just
beginning to take notice. "Lokeer," he says, "you see dot Apoteek?" He
indicates a chemist's shop opposite, with nothing remarkable about it
externally, except a Turk's head with his tongue out over the door.
"Yes, I, speaking for _Sandford_ and _Merton_, see it--has it some
historical interest--did VOLLIAM get medicine there, or what?" "Woll,
dis mornin dare vas two sairvans dere, and de von cot two blaces out
of de odder's haid, and afderwarts he go opstairs and vas hang himself
mit a pedbost," BOSCH evidently rather proud of this as illustrating
the liveliness of The Hague. "Was he mad?" "Yass, he vas mard, mit
a vife and seeks childrens." "No, but was he out of his senses?" "I
tink it vas oud of Omsterdam he vas com," says BOSCH. "But how did
it happen?" "Wol-sare, de broprietor vas die, and leaf de successor
de pusiness, and he dells him in von mons he will go, begause he
nod egsamin to be a Chimigal--so he do it, and dey dake him to de
hosbital, and I tink _he_ vas die too by now!" adds BOSCH, cheerfully.
Very sad affair evidently--but a little complicated. _Sandford_ would
like to get to the bottom of it, but _Merton_ convinced there is _no_
bottom. So, between us, subject allowed to drop. _Sandford_ (now
in the ascendant again) notices, as the clever boy, inscription on
house-front, "Hier woonden GROEN VAN PRINSTERER, 1838-76." "I suppose
that means VAN PRINSTERER lived here, BOSCH?" "Yass, dot vas it." "And
who was he?" "He vas--wol, he vos a Member of de Barliaments." "Was
he celebrated?" "Celebrated? oh, yass!" "What did he _do_?" (I think
_Merton_ gets this in.) "Do?" says BOSCH, quite indignantly, "he nefer
do _nodings_!" BOSCH takes me into the Fishmarket, when he directs my
attention to a couple of very sooty live storks, who are pecking about
at the refuse. "Dose birts are shtorks; hier dey vas oblige to keep
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