154
8 In the Meantime in Groningen
Sometimes he talked about his childhood [...] and that he himself had once sat
down on a hanging scaffolding for house painters, as a result of which the thing
suddenly started sinking with jerks - how he had gotten off, he did not remember
himself anymore. Or how he and one of his brothers, in the period before the
Rover safety’s, triumphantly drove into his parents’ Barneveld; however, no-one
had never seen such a bicycle, the population all gathered, so that their way
was blocked and the two ‘cyclists’ soon fell ‘like ripe pears’ from their high twowheeled vehicles ....’
The ‘Rover safety’ was a forerunner of our current bike, with a quadrangular
frame and a rear wheel driven by pedals and a chain. Former bicycles had a
large front wheel that was pedalled directly on the axle.
The symposium proceedings The Legacy of J.C. Kapteyn by myself and Klaas
van Berkel [4] contains a chapter by historian Wessel Krul about Kapteyn’s personality, in which various anecdotes and character descriptions can be found.
The following paragraphs are taken from this.
The dominant trait in Kapteyn’s personality seems to have been a sharp sense of
economy. Not that he was mean or a miser, far from it, but he obviously hated
unnecessary expenses, especially when they only served to underline one’s social
status. He lived without luxury, he dressed carelessly, and out of principle he
always traveled second class.
One evening, as Kapteyn returned home from his laboratory, an apparently
inexperienced policeman noticed something unusual about him. He did not
seem to know what he was doing, and the disorderly way he was dressed aroused
suspicion. Was he drunk? A madman? Or a criminal? Kapteyn soon became aware
that he was being followed, and decided to play the game. Instead of walking
directly to his house, he took his persecutor on a tour of the town, leading him
around all sorts of alleys and byways. Great was the disappointment of the loyal
servant of the law, when finally the suspect took his key, bade him farewell and
disappeared behind a front door bearing the name of a well-known university
professor.
Kapteyn often forgot to take his things from the train. Easton once waited for
him at the Maas railway station in Rotterdam, where he lived.
He looked extra plain. His straw hat had lost its original freshness a long time
ago; no umbrella in spite of the rain – ‘I am not allowed a new one any more’, he
jokingly said, ‘I loose them anyway’ - and we shuffled together, not unnoticed,
by the crowd of people to my home.
8 In the Meantime in Groningen
Sometimes he talked about his childhood [...] and that he himself had once sat
down on a hanging scaffolding for house painters, as a result of which the thing
suddenly started sinking with jerks - how he had gotten off, he did not remember
himself anymore. Or how he and one of his brothers, in the period before the
Rover safety’s, triumphantly drove into his parents’ Barneveld; however, no-one
had never seen such a bicycle, the population all gathered, so that their way
was blocked and the two ‘cyclists’ soon fell ‘like ripe pears’ from their high twowheeled vehicles ....’
The ‘Rover safety’ was a forerunner of our current bike, with a quadrangular
frame and a rear wheel driven by pedals and a chain. Former bicycles had a
large front wheel that was pedalled directly on the axle.
The symposium proceedings The Legacy of J.C. Kapteyn by myself and Klaas
van Berkel [4] contains a chapter by historian Wessel Krul about Kapteyn’s personality, in which various anecdotes and character descriptions can be found.
The following paragraphs are taken from this.
The dominant trait in Kapteyn’s personality seems to have been a sharp sense of
economy. Not that he was mean or a miser, far from it, but he obviously hated
unnecessary expenses, especially when they only served to underline one’s social
status. He lived without luxury, he dressed carelessly, and out of principle he
always traveled second class.
One evening, as Kapteyn returned home from his laboratory, an apparently
inexperienced policeman noticed something unusual about him. He did not
seem to know what he was doing, and the disorderly way he was dressed aroused
suspicion. Was he drunk? A madman? Or a criminal? Kapteyn soon became aware
that he was being followed, and decided to play the game. Instead of walking
directly to his house, he took his persecutor on a tour of the town, leading him
around all sorts of alleys and byways. Great was the disappointment of the loyal
servant of the law, when finally the suspect took his key, bade him farewell and
disappeared behind a front door bearing the name of a well-known university
professor.
Kapteyn often forgot to take his things from the train. Easton once waited for
him at the Maas railway station in Rotterdam, where he lived.
He looked extra plain. His straw hat had lost its original freshness a long time
ago; no umbrella in spite of the rain – ‘I am not allowed a new one any more’, he
jokingly said, ‘I loose them anyway’ - and we shuffled together, not unnoticed,
by the crowd of people to my home.