I said,—
"You have done well, Harris; this report is concise, compact, well expressed; the language is crisp, the descriptions are vivid and not needlessly elaborated; your report goes straight to the point, attends strictly to business, and doesn't fool around. It is in many ways an excellent document. But it has a fault,—it is too learned, it is much too learned. "What is 'dingblatter?'"
"Dingblatter is a Fiji word meaning 'degrees.'"
"You knew the English of it, then?"
"O, yes,"
"What is 'gnillic?'"
"That is the Esquimaux term for 'snow.'"
"So you knew the English for that, too?"
"Why certainly."
"What does 'mmbglx' stand for?"
"That is Zulu for pedestrian."
"'While the form of the Wellhorn looking down upon it completes the enchanting 'bopple' What is 'bopple?'"
"Picture. It's Choctaw."
"What is 'schnawp?'"
"Valley. That is Choctaw, also."
"What is bolwoggoly?"
"That is Chinese for 'hill.'"
"Kahkaaponeeka?"
"Ascent. Choctaw."
"But we were again overtaken by bad hogglebumgullup.' What does hogglebumgullup mean?"
"That is Chinese for 'weather.'"
"Is hogglebumgullup better than the English word? Is it any more descriptive?"
"No, it means just the same."
"And dingblatter and gnillic,—and bopple, and schnawp,—are they better than the English words?"
"No, they mean just what the English ones do?"
"Then why do you use them? Why have you used all this Chinese and Choctaw and Zulu rubbish?"
