This last exclamation was meant to convey that Van Lowe, Gerrit's father, was dead long since and that Gerrit therefore could not murder his father for nassi if he wanted to; and this time Aunt's eyes filled with tears of real emotion, not of laughter: kassian, Van Lowe!
Gerrit no longer felt lonely and ceased thinking of those queer feelings of his. He ate his rice with due respect, ate it slowly, so as to spin out the enjoyment as long as he could; but it was an effort, you know, with Aunt and Toetie and Dotje and Poppie vying with one another in turns:
"Herrit, have some more sambal-tomaat[1] . . . Herrit, fill up your lodel-saucer. . . . Herrit, take some ketimoen:[2] that's nice and cool, if your mouth's burning. . . ."
And, though Gerrit's palate was on fire, though the sambal rose to his temples till it congested his brain like a cocktail, Gerrit went on eating, took another spoonful of clean rice, took another taste of black petis. . . .
"Herrit, there's djedjonkong coming!" Aunt warned him. "You won't leave me in the lurch with my djedjonkong, will you, Herrit?"
And Gerrit declared that Aunt was making heavy demands on his stomach, but that he would manage to leave room for the djedjonkong; and he banged
