Chapter 3

O reater! Soopose soosh a vlight in De vingers of me, or of you, How we'd toorned on our heels, und gon kitin Dill no von vos left to pursue! Good Lort! how we'd froze to de ready! Boot mit him 'dvas a different ding; For he vent on de high, moral steady, Dis lofer of Fraulein von Sling.

Und dough no von vill gife any gredit To dis part of mine dale, shdill id's drue, He drafelled ash if he vould dead it, Dis liddle oldt man to pursue. Und loudly he after him hollers, Till de vales mit de cliffers loud rang: "You hafe gifed me nine-ten too moosh dollars, Hold Hard!" cried der Ritter von Slang.

De oldt man ope his eyes like a casement, Und laid a cold hand on his prow, Denn mutter in ootmosdt amazement, "Vot manner of mordal art dou? I hafe lifed in dis world a yar tausend, Und nefer yed met soosh a ding! Yet you find it hart vork to pe spouse, and Peloved by de Lady von Sling!

"Und she vant you to roll from de tower Down shteps to yon rifulet spot." (Here de knight, whom amazement o'erbower, Cried, "Himmels potz pumpen Herr Gott!") Boot de oldt veller saidt: "I'll arrange it, Let your droples und sorrows co hang! Und nodings vill coom to derange it- Pet high on it, Ritter von Slang.

"So get oop dis small oonderstandin, Dat to-morrow by ten, do you hear? You'll pe mit your trunk at de landin; I'll also be dere-nefer fear! Und I dinks we shall make your young voman A new kind of meloty sing; Dat vain, wicked, cruel, unhuman, Gott-tamnaple Fraulein von Sling."

De fiolet shdars vere apofe him, Vhite moths und vhite dofes shimmered round, All nature seemed seekin to lofe him, Mit perfume und vision und sound. De liddle oldt veller hat fanished, In a harp-like, melotious twang; Und mit him all sorrow vas panished Afay from der Steinli von Slang.

III.

Id vas morn, und de vorldt hat assempled Mid panners und lances und dust, Boot de heart of de Paroness trempled, Und ofden her folly she cussed. For she found dat der Ritter vould do it, Und "die or get into de Ring," Und denn she'd pe cerdain to rue it, Aldough she vas Lady von Sling.

For no man in Deutschland stood higher Dan he mit de Minnesing crew, He vas friendet to Heini von Steier, Und Wolfram von Eschenbach too. Und she dinked ash she look from de vinders, How herzlich his braises dey sang; "Now dey'll knock my goot name indo flinders, For killin der Ritter von Slang."

Boot oh! der goot knight had a Schauer, Und felt most ongommonly queer, Vhen he find on de top of de dower De goblum, pesite him, abbear. Denn he find he no more could go valkin, Und shtood, shoost and potrified ding, Vhile de goblum vent round about talkin, Und chaffin Plectruda von Sling.

Denn at vonce he see indo de problum, Und vas stoggered like rats at ids vim: His soul had gone indo de goblum, Und de goblum's hat gone indo him. Und de eyes of de volk vas enchanted, Dere vas "glamour" oopon de whole gang; For dey dinked dat dis veller who ranted So loose, vas der Ritter von Slang.

Und, Lordt! how he dalked! Oonder heafens Dere vas nefer soosh derriple witz, Knockin all dings to sechses and sefens, Und gifin Plectruda, Dutch fits. Mein Gott! how he poonished und chaffed her Like a hell-stingin, devil-born ding; Vhile de volk lay a-rollin mit laughter At Fraulein Plectruda von Sling.

De lady grew angry und paler, De lady grew ratful und red, She felt some Satanical jailer Hafe brisoned de tongue in her head. She moost laugh vhen she vant to pe cryin, Und vas crushed mit de teufelisch clang, Till she knelt herself, pooty near dyin, To dis derriple image of Slang.

Denn der goblum shoomp oop to der ceiling Und trow sommerseds round on de vloor, Right ofer Plectruda a-kneelin, Dill she look more a vool dan pefore. Denn he roll down de shteps light und breezy, His laughs made it all apout ring; Ash he shveared dere vas noding more easy Dan to win a Plectruda von Sling.

Und vhen he cot down to de pottom, He laugh so to freezen your plood; Und schwear dat de boomps ash he cot em Hafe make him feel petter ash good. Boot, oh! how dey shook at his power, Vhen he toorned himself roundt mit a bang, Und roll oop to de dop of de tower, To change forms mit de oder Von Slang!

Denn all in an insdand vas altered, Der Steinli vas coom to himself; Und de sprite, vitch in double sense paltered, From dat moment acain vas an elf. Dey shdill dinked dat he vas de person Who had bobbed oop and down on de ving, Und knew not who 'tvas lay de curse on De peaudiful Lady von Sling.

Nun-endlich- Plectruda repented, Und gazed on der Ritter mit shoy; In dime to pe married consented, Und vas plessed mit a peautifool poy. A dwenty gold biece on his bosom Vhen geporn vas tiscofered to hang Mit de inscript-"Dis dime dont refuse em"- So endet de tale of Von Slang.

Dresden, 1870.

TO A FRIEND STUDYING GERMAN.

Si liceret te amare Ad Suevorum magnum mare Sponsam te perducerem - Tristicia Amorosa. Frau Aventiure, von J. V. Scheffel.

VILL'ST dou learn die Deutsche Sprache? Denn set it on your card, Dat all the nouns have shenders, Und de shenders all are hard. Dere ish also dings called pronoms, Vitch id's shoost ash vell to know; Boot ach! de verbs or time-words- Dey'll work you bitter woe.

Will'st dou learn de Deutsche Sprche? Den you allatag moost go To sinfonies, sonatas, Or an oratorio. Vhen you dinks you knows 'pout musik, More ash any other man, Be sure de soul of Deutschland Into your soul ish ran.

Will'st dou learn de Deutsche Sprache? Dou moost eat apout a peck A week of stinging sauerkraut,[4] Und sefen pfoundts of speck. Mit Gott knows vot in vinegar, Und deuce knows vot in rum: Dis ish de only cerdain vay To make de accents coom.

Will'st dou learn de Deutsche Sprache? Brepare dein soul to shtand Soosh sendences ash ne'er vas heardt In any oder land. Till dou canst make parentheses Intwisted-ohne zahl- Dann wirst du erst Deutschfertig seyn,[5] For a languashe ideal.

Will'st dou learn de Deutsche Sprache? Du must mitout an fear Trink afery tay an gallon dry, Of foamin Sherman bier. Und de more you trinks, pe certain, More Deutsch you'll surely pe; For Gambrinus ish de Emperor Of de whole of Germany.

Will'st dou learn de Deutsche Sprache? Be sholly, brav, und treu, For dat veller ish kein Deutscher Who ish not a sholly poy. Find out vot means Gemutlichkeit, Und do it mitout fail, In Sang und Klang dein Lebenlang,[6] A brick-ganz kreuzfidel.

Willst dou learn de Deutsche Sprache? If a shendleman dou art, Denn shtrike right indo Deutschland, Und get a schveetes heart. From Schwabenland or Sachsen Vhere now dis writer pees; Und de bretty girls all wachsen Shoost like aepples on de drees.

Boot if dou bee'st a laty, Denn on de oder hand, Take a blonde moustachioed lofer In de vine green Sherman land. Und if you shoost kit married (Vood mit vood soon makes a vire), You'll learn to sprechen Deutsch mein kind, Ash fast ash you tesire.

Dresden, January 1870.

LOVE SONG

Vulnerasti cor meum, soror mea sponsa.

O VERE mine lofe a sugar-powl, De fery shmallest loomp Vouldt shveet de seas, from pole to pole, Und make de shildren shoomp. Und if she vere a clofer-field, I'd bet my only pence, It vouldn't pe no dime at all Pefore I'd shoomp de fence.

Her heafenly foice, it drill me so, It oft-dimes seems to hoort, She ish de holiest anamile Dat roons oopon de dirt. De renpow rises vhen she sings, De sonnshine vhen she dalk; De angels crow und flop deir vings Vhen she goes out to valk.

So livin white, so carnadine, Mine lofe's gomblexion show; It's shoost like Abendcarmosine, Rich gleamin on de shnow. Her soul makes plushes in her sheek Ash sommer reds de wein, Or sonnlight sends a fire life troo An blank Karfunkelstein.

De uberschwengliche idees Dis lofe poot in my mind, Vouldt make a foost-rate philosoph Of any human kind. 'Tis schudderin schveet on eart to meet An himmlisch-hoellisch Qual; Und treat mitwhiles to Kummel Schnapps De schoenheitsideal.

Dein Fuss seind weiss wie Kreiden, Dein Ermlein Helfenbein, Dein ganzer Leib ist Seiden Dein Brust wie Marmelstein- Ja-vot de older boet sang, I sing of dee-dou Fine! Dou'rt soul und pody, heart und life Glatt, zart, gelind, und rein.[7]

DER FREISCHUTZ

AIR - "Der Pabst lebt," &c.

WIE gehts, my frendts-if you'll allow- I sings you rite afay shoost now Some dretful shdories vitch dey calls Der Freyschutz, or de Magic Balls.

Wohl in Bohemian land it cooms, Vhere folk trink prandy mate of plooms;[8] Dere lifed ein Yaeger-Maxerl Schmit- Who shot mit goons und nefer hit.

Now dere vas von oldt Yaeger, who Says, "Maxerl, dis vill nefer do; If you shouldt miss on drial-tay, Dere'll pe der tyfel denn to bay.

"If you do miss, you shtupid coose, Dere'll pe de donnerwetter loose; For you shant hafe mine taughter's hand, Nor pe der Hertzhog's yaegersmann."

Id coomed pefore de tay vas set, Dat all de shaps togeder met; Und Max he fired his goon und missed, Und all de gals cot roundt und hissed.

Dey laughed pefore und hissed pehind; Boot von shap-Kaspar-saidt, "Ton't mind; I dells you vot-you stoons 'em alls If yoost you shoodt mit magic balls."

"De magic balls! oh, vot is dat?" "I cot soom in my hoontin' hat; Dey're plack as kohl, und shoodt so drue: Oh, dem's de kindt of balls for you.

"You see dat eagle vlyin' high, Ein hoondred miles oop in de sky; Shoot at dat eagle mit your bix, You kills hin tead ash doonderblix!"

"I ton't pelieve de dings you say." "You fool," says Kasp, "denn plaze afay!" He plazed afay, vhen, sure as plood, Down coom de eagle in de mud.

"O was ist das?" said Maxerl Schmit: "Vhy! dat's de eagle vot you hit. You kills him vhen you plaze afay; Boot dat's a ding you nix verstay.

"Und you moost go to make dem balls To de Wolf's Glen vhen mitnight valls. Dow know'st de shpot-alone und late"- "Oh ja-I know shim ganz foost-rate!

"Boot denn I does not like to co Among dem dings." Says Kasp, "Ach, 'sho! I'll help you fix dem tyfel chaps, Like a goot veller-dake some schnapps!"

("Hilf Zamiel! hilf")-"Here, dake some more!' Denn Kasp vent shtompin' roundt de vloor, Und coomed his hoompugs ofer Schmit, Dill Max saidt, "Nun-ich gehe mit!"

All in de finster mitternocht, Vhen oder folk in shleep vas lockt, Down in de Wolfschlucht, Kasp tid dry His tyfel-strikes und Hexery.

Mit skools und pones he mate a ring, De howls und shpooks pegin to sing, Und all the tyfels oonder croundt Coom preakin' loose und rooshin' roundt.

Denn Maxerl cooms along: says he, "Mein Gott! vot dings ish dis I see! I dinks de fery tyfel und all Moost help to make dem magic ball.

"I vish dat I had nix cum raus, Und shtaid mineself in bett to house." "Hilf Zamiel!" cried Kasp; "you whelp- You red Dootch tyfel-coom und help!"

Den oop dere coomed a tredfull shdorm, De todtengrips aroundt tid schvarm; De howl shoomped oop und flopt his vings Und toorned his het like avery dings.

Oop droo de croundt dere coomed a pot Mit leadt, und dings to make de shot; Und hoellisch fire in grimson plaze, Und awful schmells like Schweitzer kase.

Agross de scene a pine-shtick flew Mit seferal shail-pirds vastened to; Six treadtful shail-pirds mit deir vings Tied to de shticks mit magic shtrings.

All droo de air, all in a row, Die wilde Jagd vas seen to go; De hounds und teer all mate of pone, Und hoonted py a skilleton.

Dere coomed a tredful shpecdre pig, Who, shpitten' fire afay, tid dig; Und fiery drocks und tyfel-shnake A scootin' droo de air tid preak.

Boot Kaspar tidn't mindt dem alls, But casted out de pullet balls; Six vas to go ash he vouldt like, De sevent' moost for de tyfel shtrike.

Ad last, oopon de drial tay, De gals cot roundt so nice und gay, Und den dey goed und maked a tantz, Und singed apout de Jungfernkranz.

Und denn der Hertshog-dat's der Duke- Cooms doun und dinks he'll dake a look; "Young mans," to Maxerl denn saidt he, "Shoost shoot dem dove oopon dat dree!"

Denn Maxerl pointed mit de bix, "Potzblitz!" says he, "dat dove I'll fix!" He fired his rifle at de Taub', When Kass rollt ofer in de Staub.

De pride she falled too in de doost, Dey gals dey cried, de men dey got coossed: Der Hertshog says, "Id's fery glear Dat dere has peen some tyfels here!

"Und Max has shot mit tyfels-blei! Pfui!-die verfluchte Hexerei! O Maximilian! O Du Gehst nit mit rechten Dingen zu!"

Boot denn a hermits coomed in late; Says he, "I'll fix dese dings foostrate;" Und telled der Hertshog dat yung men Vill raise der Tyfel now und denn.

De Duke forgifed de Kaspar dann, Und mate of him a Yaegersmann, Vhat shoodts mit bixen goon, und pfeil, Und talks apout de Waidmannsheil.

Und denn de pride she coomed to life, Und cot to pe de Maxerl's vife; Denn all de beoples gried "Hoorah! Das ist recht brav! und hopsasa!"

MORAL

Py dis dings may pe oondershtood Dat vhat is pad works ofden goot: Or, Maximilia maximilibus curantur-if you will.

WEIN GEIST

I STOOMPLED oud ov a dafern, Breauscht mit a gallon of wein, Und I rooshed along de strassen, Like a derriple Eberschwein.

Und like a lordly boar-pig, I doomplet de soper folk; Und I trowed a shtone droo a shdreed lamp, Und bot' of de classes I proke.

Und a gal vent roonin' bast me, Like a vild coose on de vings, Boot I gatch her for all her skreechin', Und giss her like efery dings.

Und denn mit an board und a parell, I blay de horse-viddle a biece, Dill de neighbours shkreem "deat'!" und "murder!" Und holler aloudt "bolice!"

Und vhen der crim night waechter Says all of dis foon moost shtop, I oop mit mein oomberella, Und schlog him ober de kop.

I leaf him like tead on de bavemend, Und roosh droo a darklin' lane, Dill moonlighd und tisdand musik, Pring me roundt to my soul again.

Und I sits all oonder de linden, De hearts-leaf linden dree; Und I dink of de quick gevanisht lofe Dat vent like de vind from me. Und I voonders in mine dipsyhood, If a damsel or dream vas she!

Dis life is all a lindens Mit holes dat show de plue, Und pedween de finite pranches Cooms Himmel-light shinin' troo.

De blaetter are raushlin' o'er me, Und efery leaf ish a fay, Und dey vait dill de windsbraut comet, To pear dem in Fall afay.

Denn I coomed to a rock py der rifer, Vhere a stein ish of harpe form, -Jahrdausand in, oud, it standet'- Und nopody blays but de shtorm.

Here, vonce on a dimes, a vitches, Soom melodies here peginned, De harpe ward all zu steine, Die melodie ward zu wind.

Und so mit dis tox-i-gation, Vitch hardens de outer Me; Ueber stein and schwein, de weine Shdill harps oud a melodie.

Boot deeper de Ur-lied ringet', Ober stein und wein und svines, Dill it endeth vhere all peginnet, Und alles wird ewig zu eins, In de dipsy, treamless sloomper Vhich units de Nichts und Seyns.

Und im Mondenlicht it moormoors, Und it burns by waken wein, In Madchenlieb or Schnapsenrausch Das Absolut ist dein.

SCHNITZERL'S PHILOSOPEDE.

Die Speer die er thut fuhren die ist sehr gross und lang, Das sollt du glauben mire, gemacht von Vogelsgang. Sein Ross das ist die Heide, das sollt du glauben mir, Darauf er nun thut reiten, fuhrwahr das sag ich dir. - Ein schon nerr Lied von dem Mai Und von dem Herbst. 16th century.

I.

PROLOGUE.

HERR SCHNITZERL make a ph'losopede, Von of de pullyest kind; It vent mitout a vheel in front, And hadn't none pehind. Von vheel vas in de mittel, dough, And it vent as sure ash ecks, For he shtraddled on de axel dree, Mit der vheel petween his lecks.

Und vhen he vant to shtart it off He paddlet mit his feet, Und soon he cot to go so vast Dat efery dings he peat. He run her out on Broader shtreed, He shkeeted like der vind, Hei! how he bassed de vancy crabs, And lef dem all pehind!

De vellers mit de trottin nags Pooled oop to see him bass; De Deutschers all erstaunished saidt: "Potztausend! Was ist das?" Boot vaster shtill der Schnitzerl flewed On - mit a ghastly shmile; He tidn't tooch de dirt, py shings! Not vonce in half a mile.

Oh, vot ish all dis eart'ly pliss? Oh, vot ish man's soocksess? Oh, vot ish various kinds of dings? Und vot ish hobbiness? Ve find a pank node in de shtreedt, Next dings der pank ish preak! Ve folls, and knocks our outsides in, Vhen ve a ten shtrike make.

So vas it mit der Schnitzerlein On his philosopede. His feet both shlipped outsidevard shoost Vhen at his exdra shpeed. He felled oopon der vheel of coorse; De vheel like blitzen flew! Und Schnitzerl he vos schnitz in vact, For it shlished him grod in two.

Und as for his philosopede, Id cot so shkared, men say, It pounded onward till it vent Ganz tyfelwards afay. Boot vhere ish now der Schnitzerl's soul? Vhere dos his shbirit pide? In Himmel droo de endless plue, It takes a medeor ride.

II.

HANS BREITMANN AND HIS PHILOSOPEDE.

Vhen Breitmann hear dat Schnitzerl Vas quardered into dwo, Und how his crate philosopede To 'm tyfel had peen flew, He dinked und dinked so heafy, Ash only Deutschers can, Denn saidt, "Who mighdt peliefet Dish is de ent of man?"

"De human souls of beoples Exisdt in deir idees, Und dis of Wolfram Schnitzerl Mighdt drafel many vays. In his Bestimmung des Menschen Der Fichte makes pelieve, Dat ve brogress oon-endtly In vhat pehindt ve leave.

"De shparrow falls ground-downvarts Or drafels to de West; De shparrows dat coom afder, Bild shoost de same old nest. Man had not vings or fedders, Und in oder dings, 'tis set, He tont coom up to shparrows, But on nests he goes ahet.

"O! vliest dou droo bornin' vorldts, Und nebuloser foam, By monsdrous mitnight shiant forms, Or vhere red tyfels roam; Or vhere de ghosdts of shky-rockets Peyond creation flee? Vhere e'er dou art, O Schnitzerlein, Crate Saindt! Look down on me!

"Und deach me how you maket Dat crate philosopede, Vhich roon dwice six mals vaster Ash any Arap shteed. Und deach me how to 'stonish volk, Und knock dem oud de shpots. Coom pack to eart', O Schnitzerlein, Und pring id down to dots!"

Shoost ash dish vordt vent outvarts, Hans dinked he saw a vlash, Und oonterwards de dable He doompelt mit a crash. Und to him, moong de glasses, Und pottles ash vas proke, Mit his het in a cigar-box, A foice from Himmel shpoke:

"Adsum, Domine Breitmann! Herr Copitain, here I pe! So dell me rite honeste, Quare inquietasti me? Te video inter spoonibus, Et largis glassis too, Cerevisia repletis, Sicut percussus tonitru!"

Denn Breitmann ansver Schnitzerl; "Coarctor nimis, see! Siquidem Philistiim Pugnant adversum me. Ergo vocavi te, Ash Saul vocavit Sam- Uel, ut mi ostenderes Quid teufel faciam?"

Denn de shpirit (in Lateinisch) Saidt "Bene, dat's de talk, Non habes in hoc shanty, A shingle et some chalk? Non video inkum nec calamos (I shpose some bummer shdole 'em), Levate oculos tuos, son, Et aspice ad linteolum!"

Denn Breitmann see de biece of chalk Vhich riset vrom de vloor, Und signed a fine philosopede Alone, oopon de toor. De von dat Schnitzerl fobricate, Und oonderneat' he see: Probate inter equites, (Try dis in de cavallrie).

Der Breitmann shtood oop from de vloor, Und leanet on a post; Und saidt: "If dis couldt, shouldt hafe peen, Dar vouldt, mighdt peen a ghosdt; Boot if id pe noumenon, Phenomenoned indeed, Or de soobyectif obyectified, I'fe cot de philosopede."

Denn out he seekt a plackschmit, Ash vork in iron-steel, To make him a philosopede Mit shoost an only vheel. De dings vas maket simple, Ash all crate idees shouldt pe, For 'tvas noding boot a gart-vheel, Mit a dwo-feet axel dree.

De dimes der Breitmann doomple, In learnin' for to ride, Vas ofdener ash de sand-crains Dat rollen in de tide. De dimes he cot oopsettet, In shdeerin' left und righdt, Vas ofdener ash de cleamin' shdars, Dat shtud de shky py night.

Boot de vorstest of de veadures In dis von-vheel horse, you pet, Ish dat man couldt go so nicely, Pefore he get oopset. Some dimes he co like plazes, Und doorn her, extra-fine; Und denn shlop ofer - dis is vot Hafe kill der Schnitzerlein.

Soosh droples ash der Breitmann hafe, To make dis 'vention go, Vas nefer seen py mordal man, Oopon dis vorldt pelow. He doomplet righdt - he doomplet left, He hafe a dousand doomps; Dere nefer vas a gricket ball Ash get soosh 'fernal boomps.

Boot - ash he'd shvearet he'd poot it droo, He shvear't it moost pe tone; Dough he schimpft' und flucht' gar laesterlich, He visht he't ne'er pegun. Mit "Hagel! Blitz! Kreuz-sakrament!" He maket de Houser ring, Und vish der Schnitzerl vas in hell, For deachin' him dis ding.

Nun - goot! At lasht he cot it, Und peautifool he goed, "Dis day," saidt he, "I'll 'stonish folk A ridin' in de road. Dis day, py shings! I'll do it, Und knock dings oud of sight:"- Ach weh! - for Breitmann dat day Vas not be-markt mit vhite.

De noombers of de Deutsche volk, Dat coomed dis sighdt to see, I dink, in soper earnst-hood, Mighdt not ge-reckonet pe. For miles dey shtoodt along de road, Mein Gott! - boot dey wer'n dry; Dey trinket den lager-bier shops out, Pefore der Hans coom py.

Vhen all at vonce drementous gries De fery coondry shook, Und beople's shkreemt, "Da ist er! - Schau! Here cooms der Breitmann, look!" Mein Gott! vas efer soosh a sighdt! Vas efer soosh a gry! Vhen like a brick-pat in a vighdt, Der Breitemann roosh py?

Oh mordal man! Vhy ish idt, dou Hast passion to go vast? Vhy ish id dat te tog und horse Likes shbeed too quick to lasht? De pugs, de pirds, de pumple-pees, Und all dat ish, 'tvouldt seem Ish nefer hobby boot, exsepdt, Vhen pilin' on de shdeam.

Der Breitmann flew! Von mighdy gry Ash he vent scootin' bast; Von derriple, drementous yell;- Dat day de virst - und lasht. Vot ha! Vot ho! Vhy ish it dus? Vhot makes dem shdare aghasht? Vhy cooms dat vail of vild deshbair? Ish somedings cot ge-shmasht?

Yea, efen so. Yea, ferily, Shbeak, soul!-it ish dy biz! Der Breitmann shkeet so vast along Dey fairly heard him whizz. Vhen shoost oopon a hill-top point It caught a pranch ge-bent, Und like an apple from a shling, Afay Hans Breitmann vent.

Vent droo de air an hoondert feet Allowin' more or lees:- Denn, pob-pob-pob - a mile or dwo He rollet along - I guess. Say - hast dou seen a gannon ball Half shpent, shtill poundin' on, Like made of gummi-lasticum?- So vent der Breitmann.

Dey bick him oop - dey pring him in, No wort der Breitmann shboke. Der doktor look - he shwear erstaunt Dat nodings ish peen proke. "He rollt de rocky road entlang, He pounce o'er shtock und shtone, You'd dink he'd knocked his outsites in, Yet nefer preak a pone!"

All shtill Hans lay, bevilderfied; He seemt not mind de shaps, Nor mofed oontil der medicus Hafe dose him vell mit schnapps. De schmell voke oop de boetry Of tays vhen he vas yoong, Und he murmulte de fragmends Of an sad romantish song:

"Ash sommer pring de roses Und roses pring de dew, So Deutschland gifes de maidens Who fetch de bier for you. Komm Maidelein! rothe Waengelein! Mit wein-glass in your paw! Ve'll get troonk among de roses, Und pe soper on de shtraw!