XLV[1]
GOOD morning; here comes sister to prattle to you again. It is a splendid fresh morning, and I am sitting here in a cosy corner by the window where I have a view of the garden. Another time I shall try and describe all our surroundings to you. Our home, which is our doenia (little world) and our cloister. Now however, I shall continue my talk of yesterday. It is pathetic to see the joy of our elders over the return of the strayed sheep.
Out of pure joy, an old woman here sent us her collection of books, old Javanese manuscripts; many written in Arabic characters. We are going to study Arabic so that we can read, and write it.
You know perhaps that Javanese books are very rare, and hard to find because they are written with the hand. Only a few of them are printed. We are reading now a lovely poem in the flower-tongue. How I wish that you knew our language. I should be so glad if you could enjoy all our fine things in the original. Have you any desire to learn the Javanese language? It is difficult—certainly, but it is beautiful. It is a sentient language; often the words seem to be conscious, they express so much. We are astonished sometimes, own children as we are of the country, at the cleverness of our fellow countrymen. Things of which one could never imagine anything could be made, they express charmingly. Name something in the dark, give
- ↑ To Heer E. C. Abendanon.
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