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TALES OF STRANGE ADVENTURE

ejected a spurt of black saliva from his mouth with the whistling sound chewers of the weed affect.

"Ah! so you are French," he said to me.

"How do you know."

"Lord! it would be poor work to have seen the four quarters of the world,—Europe, Asia, Africa and America, and not to know a man at the first glance. French, I say French, French!" and he started singing:

"Mourir pour la patrie."

I stopped him in the middle; "Not that, Père Ohfus, please—sing something else."

"Why so?"

"Because I know that tune."

"Good! as you please. So you want to go to Monnikendam.

"Yes."

"And you make a point of Père Olifus taking you there, eh?"

"Yes."

"Well and good! we will take you over, without charging."

"And why without charging?"

"Because I have eyes in my head and can see what I can see. Are you sleeping there, at Monnikendam?"

"Yes."

"Well and good; then I recommend you to the Inn of the Bonliomnie Tropique."

"That is precisely where I am going."

"It's kept by my daughter Margaret."

"I know it is."

"Ah! " cried Père Olifus, "you know it is, eh?"—And he fell into a brown study.

"Well! suppose we make a start, Père Olifus?"

"Yes, yes, let us be off." Then looking round at me: "I know why you are coming."

"You do?"

"Yes, I know; you are a savant and you want to make me talk."

"And does it hurt you to talk, Père Olifus, if we moisten the conversation with schnapps at the beginning, rum in the middle and rack punch to finish up with."

"Oh, ho! so you know the proper order?"

"Oh Lord! no, it was just a guess."

"Well and good; I am ready to talk, but not before the children, mind you!"

"And where are the children?"

"You shall see them,"—then turning to three different quarters of the compass, he gave a whistle. At this sound, which bore a strong resemblance to the screech of a locomotive engine, I saw five great lads come running up, all making for one common centre,—the group formed by Biard, Père Olifus and myself.

"Ho, Joachim! ho, Thomas! ho, Philip! ho, Simon and Jude!" he cried in Dutch; "hurry a bit I say. Here is a customer for us and for your sister Margaret."

Catching the name Margaret, and judging by the way Père Olifus spoke to the five great lads who were running up, I gathered the sense more or less of what he had just said.

"Oh, ho! Père Olifus, and is this a sample, pray, of the fine family they told me about?"

"That was at The Hague, was is not, at the Museum? I shall have to send him a remittance, that old scamp. Yes, there are my five boys."

"Then you have five boys and a girl?"

"A girl and five boys, two of them twins, Simon and Jude. The eldest is twenty-five."

"And all by the same mother," I asked with some little hesitation.

Olifus looked at me: "By the same mother, yes; on that side certain sure; I could not say as much on the other side of . . . But h'sh! here come the children; not a word before them."

The boys filed in front of me, touching their caps to me and casting doubtful looks at their father. It struck them no doubt that the old man had been talking a bit too much already.

"Come, come, lads, get aboard!" cried Père Olifus, and let's show the gentlemen we should do all right in a hundred tonner, if need be."

Three of the young fellows leapt nimbly into the boat while the two others hauled on the chain to bring her up to the quay-side. Père Olifus got aboard actively enough and we settled down in the stern. Simon and Jude followed us and crew and passengers were complete. The two former apparently always worked together and they now set to work to step the mast, which was lying at the bottom of the boat. Meantime their father took the helm. Joachim unhitched the painter and Philip and