I seized him by the arm, and, in Scandinavian that must have been
quite pathetic in its tragic fervour, I asked him if he had seen my
friend--my friend B.

The man only stared.

I grew desperate. I shook him. I said:

"My friend--big, great, tall, large--is he where? Have you him to
see where? Here?"

(I had to put it that way because Scandinavian grammar is not a
strong point with me, and my knowledge of the verbs is as yet
limited to the present tense of the infinitive mood. Besides, this
was no time to worry about grace of style.)

A crowd gathered round us, attracted by the man's terrified
expression. I appealed to them generally. I said:

"My friend B.--head, red--boots, yellow, brown, gold--coat, little
squares--nose, much, large! Is he where? Him to see--anybody--
where?"

Not a soul moved a hand to help me. There they stood and gaped!

I repeated it all over again louder, in case anybody on the
outskirts of the mob had not heard it; and I repeated it in an
entirely new accent. I gave them every chance I could.

They chatted excitedly among themselves, and, then a bright idea