Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 102, June 18, 1892 by Various
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page 2 of 41 (04%)
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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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