Diary of a Pilgrimage by Jerome K. (Jerome Klapka) Jerome
page 41 of 154 (26%)
page 41 of 154 (26%)
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seemed to strike one of them, a little more intelligent-looking than
the rest, and he rushed outside and began running up and down, calling out something very loudly, in which the word "Norwegian" kept on occurring. He returned in a few seconds, evidently exceedingly pleased with himself, accompanied by a kindly-looking old gentleman in a white hat. Way was made in the crowd, and the old gentleman pressed forward. When he got near, he smiled at me, and then proceeded to address to me a lengthy, but no doubt kindly meant, speech in Scandinavian. Of course, it was all utterly unintelligible to me from beginning to end, and my face clearly showed this. I can grasp a word or two of Scandinavian here and there, if pronounced slowly and distinctly; but that is all. The old gentleman regarded me with great surprise. He said (in Scandinavian, of course): "You speak Norwegian?" I replied, in the same tongue: "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. |
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