An English-Dutch conversational manual from which the languages are still learned has a specimen "dialogue" in a coach, which is opened by the gentleman remarking genially and politely to his fellow-passenger, a lady, "Madame, shall we arrange our legs".
It occurs to me that very little Dutch has found its way into these pages.

Let me therefore give the first stanza of the national song, "Voor Vaderland en Vorst":-- Wien Neerlandsch bloed in de aderen vloeit, Van vreemde smetten vrij, Wiens hart voor land en Koning gloeit, Verhef den sang als wij: Hij stel met ons, vereend van zin, Met onbeklemde borst, Het godgevallig feestlied in Voor Vaderland en Vorst.
These are brave words.

A very pedestrian translation runs thus:-- Who Ne'erland's blood feel nobly flow, From foreign tainture free, Whose hearts for king and country glow, Come, raise the song as we: With breasts serene, and spirits gay, In holy union sing The soul-inspiring festal lay, For Fatherland and King.
And now a specimen of really mellifluous Dutch.

"How would you like," is the timely question of a daily paper this morning, as I finish this chapter, "to be hit by a 'snellpaardelooszoondeerspoorwegpitroolrijtung ?' That is what would happen to you if you were run down by a motor-car in Holland.

The name comes from 'snell,' rapid; 'paardeloos,' horseless; 'zoondeerspoorweg,' without rails; 'pitroolrijtung,' driven by petroleum.