Broe Bread Brood Plut Blood Bloed Stul Stool Stoel Hus House Huys Wingart Vine Wijngaert Reghen Rain Regen Bruder Brother Broeder Schwester Sister Zuster Alt Old Oud Wintch Wind Wind Silvir Silver Zilver Goltz Gold Goud Kor Corn Koren Salt Salt Zout Fisct Fish Visch Hoef Head Hoofd Thurn Door Deure Stern Star Star Sune Sun Zon Mine Moon Maen Tag Day Dag Oeghene Eyes Oogen Bars Beard Baert Handa Hand Hand Boga Bow Bogen Miera Ant Mier Rinck or Ringo Ring Ring Brunna Spring Bron Waghen Waggon Wagen Apel Apple Appel Schieten To shoot Schieten Schlipen To sleep Slapen Kommen To come Komen Singhen To sing Zingen Lachen To laugh Lachen Criten To cry Kryten Geen To go Gaen Breen To roast Braên Schwalch Death Knauen Tag meant good day. Knauen signified good, and he used many other words which did not agree with our tongue, for example: Iel, life or health │ Stap, a goat Ieltsch, alive or well │ Gadeltha, beautiful Iel uburt, be it well │ Atochta, bad Marzus, marriage │ Wichtgata, white Schuos, a bride │ Mycha, a sword Baar, a boy │ Lista, too little Ael, a stone │ Schedit, light Menus, flesh │ Borrotsch, a wish Rintsch, a mountain │ Cadariou, a soldier Fers, a man │ Kilemschkop, drink up your cup Statz, the earth │ Tzo warthata, thou didst Ada, an egg │ Ies varthata, he did Ano, a hen │ Ich malthata, I say Telich, foolish │ Being told to count he did so thus: _Ita_, _tua_, _tria_, _fyder_, _fyuf_, _seis_, _sevene_, precisely as we Flemings do. For you men of Brabant, who pretend you talk German, are, on this point, in the habit of lauding yourselves to the skies, and ridiculing us on account of what you are pleased to call our abominable pronunciation of that word, which you pronounce _seven_. He went on thus: _athe_, _nyne_, _thiine_, _thiinita_, _thunetua_, _thunetria_. Twenty he called _stega_, thirty _treithyen_, forty _furderthien_, a hundred _sada_, a thousand _hazer_. He also repeated a song in that language, which began as follows, Wara, wara ingdolou; Scu te gira Galizu Hæmisclep dorbiza ea.