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Breitmann Ballads





The Breitmann Ballads
by
Charles G. Leland.





TO THE MEMORY
OF THE LATE
NICHOLAS TRUBNER

This Work is Dedicated
by
Charles G. Leland


This Project Gutenberg Edition
is dedicated to:

Poul and Karen Anderson
without whose inspiration
it would not exist.

Geoff Kidd
Krista Rourke






Ad Musan.
"Est mihi schoena etenim et praestanti corpore liebsta
Haec sola est mea Musa meoque regierit in Herza.
Huic me ergebo ipsum meaque illi abstatto geluebda,
Huic ebrensaulas aufrichto opfroque Geschenka,
Hic etiam absingo liedros et carmina scribo."

Rapsodia Andra, Leipzig, 17th Century



Preface
To the Edition of 1889.

----

Though twenty years have passed since the first appearance
of the "Breitmann Ballads" in a collected form, the author is
deeply gratified -- and not less sincerely grateful to the public
-- in knowing that Hans still lives in many memories, that he
continues to be quoted when writers wish to illustrate an
exuberantly joyous "barty" or ladies so very fashionably dressed
as to recall "de maidens mit nodings on," and that no
inconsiderable number of those who are "beginning German"
continue to be addressed by sportive friends in the Breitmann
dialect as a compliment to their capacity as linguists.  For as a
young medical student is asked by anxious intimates if he has got
as far as salts, I have heard inquiries addressed to tyros in
Teutonic whether they had mastered these songs.  As I have
realised all of this from newspapers and novels, even during the
past few weeks, and have learned that a new and very expensive
edition of the work has just appeared in America, I trust that I
may be pardoned for a self-gratulation, which is, after all
really gratitude to those who have demanded of the English
publisher another issue.  My chief pleasure in this -- though it
be mingled with sorrow -- is, that it enables me to dedicate to
the memory of my friend the late NICHOLAS TRUBNER the most
complete edition of the Ballads ever printed.  I can think of no
more appropriate tribute to his memory, since he was not only the
first publisher of the work in England, but collaborated with the
author in editing it so far as to greatly improve and extend the
whole.  This is more fully set forth in the Introduction to the
Glossary, which is all his own.  The memory of the deep personal
interest which he took in the poems, his delight in being their
publisher, his fondness for reciting them, is and ever will be to
me indescribably touching; such experiences being rare in any
life.  He was an immensely general and yet thorough scholar, and
I am certain that I never met with any man in my life who to such
an extensive bibliographical knowledge added so much familiarity
with the contents of books.  And he was familiar with nothing
which did not interest him, which is rare indeed among men who
MUST know something of thousands of works -- in fact, he was a
wonderful and very original book in himself, which, if it had
ever been written out and published, would have never died.  His
was one of the instances which give the world good cause to
regret that the art of autobiography is of all others the one
least taught or studied.  There are few characters more
interesting than those in which the practical man of business is
combined with the scholar, because of the contrasts, or varied
play of light and shadow, in them, and this was, absolutely to
perfection, that of Mr. Trubner.  And if I have re-edited this
work, it was that I might have an opportunity of recording it.

There are others to whom I owe sincere gratitude for
interest displayed in this work when it was young.  The first of
these was the late CHARLES ASTOR BRISTED of New York.  With the
exception of the "Barty," most of the poems in the first edition
were written merely to fill up letters to him, and as I kept no
copy of them, they would have been forgotten, had he not
preserved and printed them after a time in a sporting paper.  Nor
would they even after this have appeared (though Mr. Bristed once
tried to surprise me with a privately printed collection of them,
which attempt failed) had not Mr. RINGWALT, my collaborator on
the PHILADELPHIA PRESS, and also a printer, had such faith in the
work as to have it "set up" in his office, offering to try an
edition for me.  This was transferred to PETERSON BROTHERS, in
whose hands the sale became at once very great; and I should be
truly ungrateful if I omitted to mention among the many writers
who were very kind in reviews, Mr. GEORGE A. SALA, who was
chiefly influential in introducing Hans Breitmann to the English
public, and who has ever been his warmest friend.  Another friend
who encouraged and aided me by criticism was the late OCTAVE
DELEPIERRE, a man of immense erudition, especially in archaeology,
curiosa and facetiae.  I trust that I may be pardoned for here
mentioning that he often spoke of Breitmann's "Interview with the
Pope" as his favorite Macaronic poem, which, as he had published
two volumes of Macaronea, was praise indeed.  His theory was,
that as Macaronics were the ultra-extravagance of poetry, he who
wrote most recklessly in them did best; in fact, that they should
excel in first-rate BADNESS; and from this point of view it is
possible that Breitmann's Latin lyric is not devoid of merit,
since assuredly nobody ever wrote a worse.  The late LORD LYTTON,
or "Bulwer," was also kind enough to take an interest in these
Ballads, which was to me as gratifying as it was amazing.  It was
one of the great surprises of my life.  I have a long letter from
him, addressed to me on the appearance of the collected edition,
in 1870.  In it he spoke with warmest compliment of the poem of
"Leyden," and the first verses of "Breitmann in Belgium."

In conclusion, I acknowledge the courtesy of Messers.
DALZIELL BROTHERS for allowing me to republish here four poems
which had appeared in the "Brand New Ballads" published by them
in 1885.  But to mention all of the people of whom I have
grateful memories in connection with the work, who have become
acquainted with me through it, or written to me, or said pleasant
words, would be impossible.  I am happy to think it would embrace
many of the Men of the Times during the last twenty years -- and
unfortunately too many who are now departed.  And trusting that
the reader will take in good part all that I have said, I remain,
-- his true friend (for truly there is no friend dearer than a
devoted reader),

CHARLES G. LELAND


PREFACE

-----

When HANS BREITMANN'S PARTY, WITH OTHER BALLADS, appeared,
the only claim made on its behalf was, that it constituted the
first book ever written in English as imperfectly spoken by
Germans.  The author consequently held himself bound to give his
broken English a truthful form.  So far as observation and care,
aided by the suggestions of well-educated German friends, could
enable him to do this, it was done.  But the more extensive were
his observations, the more did the fact force itself upon his
mind, that there is actually no well-defined method or standard
of "German-English," since not only do no two men speak it alike,
but no one individual is invariably consistent in his errors or
accuracies.  Every reader who knows any foreign language
imperfectly is aware that HE SPEAKS IT BETTER AT ONE TIME THAN
ANOTHER, and it would consequently have been a grave error to
reduce the broken and irregular jargon of the book to a fixed and
regular language, or to require that the author should invariably
write exactly the same mispronunciations with strict consistency
on all occasions.

The opinion -- entirely foreign to any intention of the
author -- that Hans Breitmann is an embodied satire on everything
German, has found very few supporters, and it is with the
greatest gratification that he has learned that educated and
intelligent Germans regard Hans as a jocose burlesque of a type
which is every day becoming rarer.  And if Teutonic philosophy
and sentiment, beer, music, and romance, have been made the
medium for what many reviewers have kindly declared to be
laughter-moving, let the reader be assured that not a single word
was meant in a bitter or unkindly spirit.  It is true that there
is always a standpoint from which any effort may be misjudged,
but this standpoint certainly did not occur to the writer when he
wrote, with anything but misgiving, of his "hearty,
hard-fighting, good-natured old ex-student," who, in the
political ballads and others, appears to no moral disadvantage by
the side of his associates.

Breitmann in several ballads is indeed a very literal copy
or combination of characteristics of men who really exist or
existed, and who had in their lives embraced as many extremes of
thought as the Captain.  America abounds with Germans, who,
having received in their youth a "classical education," have
passed through varied adventures, and often present the most
startling paradoxes of thought and personal appearance.  I have
seen bearing a keg a porter who could speak Latin fluently.  I
have been in a beer-shop kept by a man who was distinguished in
the Frankfurt Parliament.  I have found a graduate of the
University of Munich in a negro minstrel troupe.  And while
mentioning these as proof that Breitmann, as I have depicted him,
is not a contradictory character, I cannot refrain from a word of
praise as to the energy and patience with which the German "under
a cloud" in America bears his reverses, and works cheerfully and
uncomplainingly, until, by sheer perseverance, he, in most cases,
conquers fortune.  In this respect the Germans, as a race, and I
might almost say as individuals, are superior to any others on
the American continent.  And if I have jested with the German new
philosophy, it is with the more seriousness that I here
acknowledge the deepest respect for that true practical
philosophy of life -- that well-balanced mixture of stoicism and
epicurism -- which enables Germans to endure and to ENJOY under
circumstances when other men would probably despair.

Breitmann is one of the battered types of the men of '48 --
a person whose education more than his heart has in every way led
him to entire scepticism or indifference -- and one whose
Lutheranism does not go beyond "Wein, Weib, und Gesang." Beneath
his unlimited faith in pleasure lie natural shrewdness, an
excellent early education, and certain principles of honesty and
good fellowship, which are all the more clearly defined from his
moral looseness in details which are identified in the
Anglo-Saxon mind with total depravity.  In such a man, the
appreciation of the beautiful in nature may be keen, but it will
continually vanish before humour or mere fun; while having no
deep root in life or interests in common with the settled
Anglo-Saxon citizen, he cannot fail to appear at times to the
latter as a near relation to Mephistopheles.  But his "mockery"
is as accidental and naif as that of Jewish Young Germany is keen
and deliberate; and the former differs from the latter as the
drollery of Abraham a Santa Clara differs from the brilliant
satire of Heine.

The reader should be fairly warned that these poems abound
in words, phrases, suggestions, and even couplets, borrowed to
such an extent from old ballads and other sources, as to make
acknowledgement in many cases seem affectation.  Where this has
appeared to be worth the while, it has been done.  The lyrics
were written for a laugh -- without anticipating publication, so
far as a number of the principal ones in the first volume were
concerned, and certainly without the least idea that they would
be extensively and closely criticised by eminent and able
reviewers.  Before the compilation the "Barty" had almost passed
from the writer's memory, several other songs of the same
character by him were quite forgotten, while a number had formed
portions of letters to friends, by one of whom a few were
published in a newspaper.  When finally urged by many who were
pleased with "Breitmann" to issue these humble lyrics in book
form, it was with some difficulty that the first volume was
brought together.

The excuse for the foregoing observations is the unexpected
success of a book which is of itself of so eccentric a character
as to require some explanation.  For its reception from the
public, and the kindness and consideration with which it has been
treated by the press, the author can never be sufficiently
grateful.

CHARLES G. LELAND
London, 1871.

CONTENTS

HANS BREITMANN'S BARTY
BREITMANN AND THE TURNERS
BALLAD
A BALLAD APOUT DE ROWDIES
THE PICNIC
I GILI ROMANESKRO
STEINLI VON SLANG
TO A FRIEND STUDYING GERMAN
LOVE SONG
DER FREISCHUTZ
WEIN GEIST
SCHNITZERL'S PHILOSOPEDE --
I.    PROLOGUE
II.    HANS BREITMANN AND HIS PHILOSOPEDE

DIE SCHONE WITTWE --
I.    VOT DE YANKEE CHAP SUNG
II.    HOW DER BREITMANN CUT HIM OUT

BREITMANN IN BATTLE
BREITMANN IN MARYLAND
BREITMANN AS A BUMMER
    SECOND PART

BREITMANN'S GOING TO CHURCH
BREITMANN IN KANSAS
HANS BREITMANN'S CHRISTMAS
BREITMANN ABOUT TOWN
BREITMANN IN POLITICS --
    I.
        1. THE NOMINATION
        2. THE COMMITTEE OF INSTRUCTIONS
        3. MR. TWINE EXPLAINS BEING "SOUND UPON THE GOOSE"
    II.
        4. HOW BREITMANN AND SMITH WERE REPORTED
             TO BE LOG-ROLLING
        5. HOW THEY HELD THE MASS MEETING
        6. BREITMANN'S GREAT SPEECH
    III.
        PARDT DE VIRST: -- THE AUTHOR ASSERTS THE VAST INTELLECTUAL
                           SUPERIORITY OF GERMANS TO AMERICANS
        PARDT DE SECOND: -- SHOWING HOW MR. HIRAM TWINE "PLAYED OFF"
                            ON SMITH
BREITMANN AS AN UHLAN --
    I. THE VISION
    II. BREITMANN IN A BALLOON
    III. BREITMANN AND BOUILLI
    IV. BREITMANN TAKES THE TOWN OF NANCY
    V. BREITMANN IN BIVOUAC
    VI. BREITMANN'S LAST BARTY
EUROPE --
    BREITMANN IN PARIS
    BREITMANN IN LA SORBONNE
    BREITMANN IN FORTY-EIGHT
BREITMANN IN BELGIUM --
    SPA
    OSTENDE
    GENT
BREITMANN IN HOLLAND --
    'S GRAVENHAGE -- THE HAGUE
    LEYDEN
    SCHEVENINGEN
    AMSTERDAM
GERMANY --
    BREITMANN AM RHEIN -- COLOGNE
    AM RHEIN -- NO. II
    AM RHEIN -- NO. III
    MUNICH
    FRANKFORT-ON-THE-MAIN
ITALY --
    BREITMANN IN ROME
    LA SCALA SANTA
    BREITMANN INTERVIEWS THE POPE
THE FIRST EDITION OF BREITMANN --
    SHOWING HOW AND WHY IT WAS THAT IT NEVER APPEARED
LAST BALLADS --
    BREITMANN IN TURKEY
    COBUS HAGELSTEIN
    FRITZERL SCHNALL
    THE GYPSY LOVER
    DORNENLIEDER
    BREITMANN'S SLEIGH-RIDE
    THE MAGIC SHOES
GLOSSARY


INTRODUCTION
BY THE PUBLISHER

---

"HANS BREITMANN GIFE A BARTY" - the first of the poems here
submitted to the English public - appeared originally in 1857, in
Graham's Magazine, in Philadelphia, and soon became widely
known. Few American poems, indeed, have been held in better or
more constant remembrance than the ballad of "Hans Breitmann's
Barty;" for the words just quoted have actually passed into a
proverbial expression.  The other ballads of the present
collection, likewise published in several newspapers, were first
collected in 1869 by Mr. Leland, the translator of Heine's
"Pictures of Travel" and "Book of Songs," and author of Meister
Karl's Sketch -Book," Philadelphia, 1856 and "Sunshine in
Thought," New York, 1863.  They are much of the same character as
"The Barty" - most of them celebrating the martial career of
"Hans Breitmann," whose prototype was a German, serving during
the war in the 15th Pennsylvanian cavalry, and who - we have it
on good authority - was a man of desperate courage whenever a
cent could be made, and one who never fought unless
something could be made. The "rebs" "gobbled" him
one day; but he re-appeared in three weeks overloaded with money
and valuables.  One of the American critics remarks: -
"Throughout all the ballads it is the same figure presented - an
honest 'Deutscher,' drunk with the New World as with new wine,
and rioting in the expression of purely Deutsch nature and
half-Deutsch ideas through a strange speech."

    The poems are written in the dull broken English (not to be
confounded with the Pennsylvanian German) spoken by millions of -
mostly uneducated - Germans in America, immigrants to a great
extent from southern Germany.  Their English has not yet become a
distinct dialect; and it would even be difficult to fix at
present the varieties in which it occurs.  One of its prominent
peculiarities, however, is easily perceived: it consists in the
constant confounding of the soft and hard consonants; and the
reader must well bear it in mind when translating the language
that meets his eye into one to become intelligible to his ear.
Thus to the German of our poet, kiss becomes giss; company -
gompany; care - gare; count - gount; corner - gorner; till -
dill; terrible - derrible; time - dime; mountain - moundain;
thing - ding; through - droo; the - de; themselves - demselves;
other - oder; party - barty; place - blace; pig - big; priest -
breest; piano - biano; plaster - blaster; fine - vine; fighting -
vighting; fellow - veller; or, vice versa, he sounds got -
cot; green - creen; great - crate; gold dollars - cold tollars;
dam - tam; dreadful - treadful; drunk - troonk; brown - prown;
blood - ploot; bridge - pridge; barrel - parrel; boot - poot;
begging - peggin'; blackguard - plackguart; rebel - repel; never
- nefer; river - rifer; very - fery; give - gife; victory -
fictory; evening - efening; revive - refife; jump - shoomp; join
- choin; joy - choy; just - shoost; joke - choke; jingling -
shingling;, &c.; or, through a kindred change, both - bofe; youth
- youf; but mouth - mout'; earth - eart'; south - sout'; waiting
- vaiten;' was - vas; widow - vidow; woman - voman; work - vork;
one - von; we - ve, &c.  And hence, by way of a compound mixture,
we get from him drafel for travel, derriple for terrible, a
daple-leck for a table-leg, bepples for pebbles, tisasder for
disaster, schimnastig dricks for gymnastic tricks, let-bencil for
lead-pencil, &c.  The peculiarity of Germans pronouncing in their
mother tongue s like sh when it is followed by a t or
p, and of Germans in southern Germany often also final
s like sh, naturally produced in their American
jargon such results as shplit, shtop, shtraight, shtar,
shtupendous, shpree, shpirit, &c; ish(is), ash(as), &c.; and, by
analogy led to shveet(sweet), schwig(swig), &c.  We need not
notice, however, more than these freaks of the
German-American-English of the present poems, as little as we
need advert to simple vulgarisms also met with in England, such
as the omission of the final g in words terminating in
ing (blayin' - playing; shpinnen' - spinning; ridin',
sailin', roonin', &c.).  We must, of course, assume that the
reader of this little volume is well acquainted both with English
and German.

    The reader will perceive that the writer has taken another
flight in "Hans Breitmann's Christmas," and many of the later
ballads, from what he did in those preceding; and exception might
be taken to his choice of subjects, and treatment of them, if the
language employed by him were a fixed dialect - that is, a
language arrested at a certain stage of its progress; for in that
case he would have had to subordinate his pictures to the narrow
sphere of the realistic incidents of a given locality.  But the
imperfect English utterances of the German, newly arrived in
America, coloured more or less by the peculiarities of his native
idiom, do not make, and never will make a dialect, for the simple
reason that, in proportion to his intelligence, his
opportunities, and the length of time spent by him among his new
English-speaking countrymen, he will sooner or later rid himself
of the crudenesses of his speech, thus preventing it from
becoming fixed.  Many of the Germans who have emigrated and are
still emigrating to America belong to the well-educated classes,
and some possess a very high culture.  Our poet has therefore
presented his typical German, with perfect propriety, in a
variety of situations which would be imperceptible within which
the the dialect necessarily moves, and has endowed him with
character, even where the local colour is wanting.

    In "Breitmann in Politics," we are on purely American ground.

    In it the Germans convince themselves that, as their hero can
no longer plunder the rebels, he ought to plunder the nation, and
they resolve on getting him elected to the State Legislature.
They accordingly form a committee, and formulate for their
candidate six "moral ideas" as his platform.  These they show to
their Yankee helper, Hiram Twine, who, having changed his
politics fifteen times, and managed several elections, knows how
matters should be handled.  He says the moral ideas are very
fine, but not worth a "dern;" and instead of them proclaims the
true cry, that Breitmann is sound upon the goose, about
which he tells a story.  Then it is reported that the German
cannot win, and that, as he is a soldier, he has been sent into
the political field only to lead the forlorn hope and get beaten.
In answer to this, Twine starts the report that Smith has sold
the fight to Breitmann, a notion which the Americans take to
at once -

"For dey mostly dinked id de naturalest ding as efer couldt pefall
For to sheat von's own gonstituents is de pest mofe in de came,
Und dey nefer sooposed a Dootchman hafe de sense to do de same."

Accordingly, Breitmann calls a meeting of Smith's supporters,
tells them that he hopes to get a good place for his friend
Smith, though he cannot approve of Smith's teetotal principles,
because he, Breitmann, is a republican, and the meaning of that
word is plain: - "... If any enlightened man vill seeken in his
Bibel, he will find dat a publican is a barty ash sells
lager; und de ding is very blain, dat a re-publican
ish von who sells id 'gain und 'gain." Moreover, Smith believes
in God, and goes to church, - what liberal German can
stand this? - while Breitmann, being a publican, must be a
sinner.  As to parties, the principles of both are the
same - plunder - and "any man who gifes me his fote, - votefer
his boledics pe, - shall alfays pe regardet ash bolidigal friendt
py me."

This brings the house down.  And when Breitmann announces that he
sells the best beer in the city, and stands drinks gratis to his
"bolidigal friendts," and orders in twelve barrels of lager for
the meeting, he is unanimously voted "a brickbat, and no
sardine."

    After this brilliant success, the author is obliged to pause,
in order to proclaim the intellectual superiority of Germans to
the whole world.  He gets tremendously be-fogged in the process,
but that is no matter -

    "Ash der Hegel say of his system,' Dat only von mans knew
    Vot der tyfel id meant; and he couldn't tell,' und der Jean
        Paul Richter, too,
    Who saidt, 'Gott knows, I meant somedings vhen foorst dis
        buch I writ,
    Boot Gott only weiss vot das buch means now, for I hafe
        forgotten it!'"

But, taking the point as proved, our German still allows that the
Yankees have some sharp-pointed sense, which he illustrates by
narrating how Hiram Twine turned a village of Smith-voters into
the Breitmann camp.  The village is German and Democrat. Smith
has forgotten his meeting, and Twine, who is very like Smith, and
rides into the village to watch the meeting, is taken by the
Germans for Smith.  On this, Twine resolves to personate Smith,
and give his supporters a dose of him.  Accordingly, on being
asked to drink, he tells the Germans that none but hogs would
drink their stinking beer, and that German wine was only made for
German swine.  Then he goes to the meeting, and, having wounded
their feelings in the tenderest point, - the love of beer, -
attacks the next tenderest, - their love for their language, - by
declaring that he will vote for preventing the speaking of it all
through the States; and winds up by exhorting them to stop
guzzling beer and smoking pipes, and set to work to un-Germanise
themselves as soon as possible.  On this "dere coomed a shindy,"
with cries of "Shoot him with a bowie-knife," and "Tar and
feather him." A revolver-ball cuts the chandelier-cord; all is
dark; and amidst the row, Twine escapes and gallops off, with
some pistol-balls after him.  But the village votes for
Breitmann, and be "licks der Schmit."

    The ballad, "Breitmann's Going to Church," is based on a
real occurrence.  A certain colonel, with his men, did really,
during the war, go to a church in or near Nashville, and, as the
saying is, "kicked up the devil, and broke things," to such an
extent, that a serious reprimand from the colonel's superior
officer was the result.  The fact is guaranteed by Mr. Leland,
who heard the offender complain of the "cruel and heartless
stretch of military authority." As regards the firing into the
guerilla ball-room, it took place near Murfreesboro', on the
night of Feb. 10 or 11, 1865; and on the next day, Mr. Leland was
at a house where one of the wounded lay.  On the same night a
Federal picket was shot dead near Lavergne; and the next night a
detachment of cavalry was sent off from General Van Cleve's
quarters, the officer in command coming in while the author was
talking with the general, for final orders.  They rode twenty
miles that night, attacked a body of guerillas, captured a
number, and brought back prisoners early next day.  The same day
Mr. Leland, with a small cavalry escort, and a few friends, went
out into the country, during which ride one or two curious
incidents occurred, illustrating the extraordinary fidelity of
the blacks to Federal soldiers.

    The explanation of the poem entitled, "The First Edition of
Breitmann," is as follows: - It was not long after the war that a
friend of the writer's to whom "the Breitmann Ballads" had been
sent in MSS., and who had frequently urged the former to have
them published, resolved to secure, at least, a small private
edition, though at his own expense.  Unfortunately the printers
quarrelled about the MSS., and, as the writer understood, the
entire concern broke up in a row in consequence.  And, in fact,
when we reflect on the amount of fierce attack and recrimination
we reflect this unpretending and peaceful little volume elicited
after the appearance of the fifth English edition, and the injury
which it sustained from garbled and falsified editions, in not
less than three unauthorised reprints, it would really seem as if
this first edition, which "died a borning," had been typical of
the stormy path to which the work was predestined.

    "I Gili Romaneskro," a gipsy ballad, was written both in the
original and translation - that is to say, in the German gipsy
and German English dialects - to cast a new light on the many-sided
Bohemianism of Herr Breitmann.

    The readers of more than one English newspaper will recall that
the idea of representing Breitmann as an Uhlan, scouting over France,
and frequently laying houses and even cities under heavy contribution,
has occurred to very many of "Our Own." A spirited correspondent of
the Telegraph, and others of literary fame, have familiarly
referred to the Uhlan as Breitmann, indicating that the
German-American free-lance has grown into a type; and more than one
newspaper, anticipating this volume, has published Anglo-German poems
referring to Hans Breitmann and the Prussian-French war.  In several
pamphlets written in Anglo-German rhymes, which appeared in London in
1871, Breitmann was made the representative type of the war by both
the friends and opponents of Prussia, while during February of the
same year Hans figured at the same time, and on the same evenings for
several weeks, on the stages of three London theatres. So many
imitations of these poems were published, and so extensively and
familiarly was Mr. Leland's hero spoken of as the exponent of the
German cause, that it seemed to a writer at the time as if he had
become "as regards Germany what John Bull and Brother Jonathan have
long been to England and America." In connection with this remark, the
following extract from a letter of the Special Correspondent of the
London Daily Telegraph of August 29, 1870, may not be without
interest: -

    "The Prussian Uhlan of 1870 seems destined to fill in French
legendary chronicle the place which, during the invasions of 1814
- 15, was occupied by the Cossack.  He is a great traveller.
Nancy, Bar-le-Duc, Commercy, Rheims, Chalons, St. Dizier,
Chaumont, have all heard of him.  The Uhlan makes himself quite
at home, and drops in, entirely in a friendly way, on mayors and
corporations, asking not only himself to dinner, but an
indefinite number of additional Uhlans, who, he says, may be
expected hourly.  The Uhlan wears a blue uniform turned up with
yellow, and to the end of his lance is affixed a streamer
intimately resembling a very dirty white pocket-handkerchief.
Sometimes he hunts in couples, sometimes he goes in threes, and
sometimes in fives.  When he lights upon a village, he holds it
to ransom; when he comes upon a city, he captures it, making it
literally the prisoner of his bow and his spear.  A writer in
Blackwood's Magazine once drove the people of Lancashire to
madness by declaring that, in the Rebellion of 1745, Manchester
'was taken by a Scots sergeant and a wench;' but it is a
notorious fact that Nancy submitted without a murmur to five
Uhlans, and that Bar-le-Duc was occupied by two.  When the Uhlan
arrives in a conquered city, he visits the mayor, and makes his
usual inordinate demands for meat, drink, and cigars.  If his
demands are acceded to, he accepts everything with a grin.  If he
is refused, he remarks, likewise with a grin, that he will come
again to-morrow with three thousand light horsemen, and he
gallops away; but in many cases he does not return.  The secret
of the fellow's success lies mainly in his unblushing impudence,
his easy mendacity, and that intimate knowledge of every highway
and byway of the country which, thanks to the military
organisation of the Prussian army, he has acquired in the
regimental school.  He gives himself out to be the precursor of
an imminently advancing army, when, after all, he is only a
boldly adventurous free-lance, who has ridden thirty miles across
country on the chance of picking up something in the way of
information or victuals. Only one more touch is needed to
complete the portrait of the Uhlan.  His veritable name would
seem to be Hans Breitmann, and his vocation that of a 'bummer;'
and Breitmann, we learn from the preface to Mr. Leland's
wonderful ballad, had a prototype in a regiment of Pennsylvanian
cavalry by the name of Jost, whose proficiency in 'bumming,'
otherwise 'looting,' in swearing, fighting, and drinking lager
beer, raised him to a pitch of glory on the Federal side which
excited at once the envy and the admiration of the boldest
bush-whackers and the gauntest guerillas in the Confederate
host."

    The present edition embraces all the Breitmann poems which
have as yet appeared; and the publisher trusts that in their
collected form they will be found much more attractive than in
scattered volumes.  Many new lyrics, illustrating the hero's
travels in Europe, have been added, and these, it is believed,
are not inferior to their predecessors.

N. TRUBNER.

The Breitmann Ballads.

-------

HANS BREITMANN'S BARTY.

HANS BREITMANN gife a barty;
    Dey had biano-blayin',
I felled in lofe mit a Merican frau,
    Her name vas Madilda Yane.
She hat haar as prown ash a pretzel,
    Her eyes vas himmel-plue,
Und vhen dey looket indo mine,
    Dey shplit mine heart in dwo.

Hans Breitmann gife a barty,
    I vent dere you'll pe pound;
I valtzet mit Matilda Yane,
    Und vent shpinnen' round und round.
De pootiest Fraulein in de house,
    She vayed 'pout dwo hoondred pound,
Und efery dime she gife a shoomp
    She make de vindows sound.

Hans Breitmann gife a barty,
    I dells you it cost him dear;
Dey rolled in more ash sefen kecks
    Of foost-rate lager beer.
Und vhenefer dey knocks de shpicket in
    De deutschers gifes a cheer;
I dinks dot so vine a barty
    Nefer coom to a het dis year.

Hans Breitmann gife a barty;
    Dere all vas Souse and Brouse,
Vhen de sooper comed in, de gompany
    Did make demselfs to house;
Dey ate das Brot and Gensy broost,
    De Bratwurst and Braten vine,
Und vash der Abendessen down
    Mit four parrels of Neckarwein.

Hans Breitmann gife a barty;
    Ve all cot troonk ash bigs.
I poot mine mout' to a parrel of beer,
    Und emptied it oop mit a schwigs;
Und den I gissed Madilda Yane,
    Und she shlog me on de kop,
Und de gompany vighted mit daple-lecks
    Dill de coonshtable made oos shtop.

Hans Breitmann gife a barty --
    Vhere ish dot barty now?
Vhere ish de lofely golden cloud
    Dot float on de moundain's prow?
Vhere ish de himmelstrahlende stern --
    De shtar of de shpirit's light?
All goned afay mit de lager beer --
    Afay in de ewigkeit!


BREITMANN AND THE TURNERS.

HANS BREITMANN shoined de Turners,
    Novemper in de fall,
Und dey gifed a boostin' bender
    All in de Turner Hall.
Dere coomed de whole Gesangverein
    Mit der Liederlich Aepfel Chor,[1]
Und dey blowed on de drooms and stroomed on de fifes
    Till dey couldn't refife no more.

Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners,
    Dey all set oop some shouts,
Dey took'd him into deir Turner Hall,
    Und poots him a course of shprouts.
Dey poots him on de barell-hell pars
    Und shtands him oop on his head,
Und dey poomps de beer mit an enchine hose
    In his mout' dill he's 'pout half tead!

Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners;
    Dey make shimnastig dricks;
He stoot on de middle of de floor,
    Und put oop a fifdy-six.
Und den he drows it to de roof,
    Und schwig off a treadful trink:
De veight coom toomple back on his headt,
    Und py shinks! he didn't vink!

Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners:--
    Mein Gott! how dey drinked und shwore;
Dere vas Schwabians und Tyrolers,
    Und Bavarians by de score.
Some vellers coomed from de Rheinland,
    Und Frankfort-on-de-Main,
Boot dere vas only von Sharman dere,
    Und he vas a Holstein Dane.

Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners,
    Mit a Limpurg' cheese he coom;
Vhen he open de box it schmell so loudt
    It knock de musik doomb.
Vhen de Deutschers kit de flavour,
    It coorl de haar on deir head;
Boot dere vas dwo Amerigans dere;
    Und, py tam! it kilt dem dead!

Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners;
    De ladies coomed in to see;
Dey poot dem in de blace for de gals,
    All in der gal-lerie.
Dey ashk: "Vhere ish der Breitmann?"
    Und dey dremple mit awe and fear
Vhen dey see him schwingen' py de toes,
    A trinken' lager beer.

Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners:
    I dells you vot py tam!
Dey sings de great Urbummellied:[2]
    De holy Sharman psalm.
Und vhen de kits to de gorus
    You ought to hear dem dramp!
It scared der Teufel down below
    To hear de Dootchmen stamp.

Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners:--
    By Donner! it vas grand,
Vhen de whole of dem goes valkin
    Und dancin' on deir hand,
Mit deir veet all vavin' in de air,
    Gottstausend! vot a dricks!
Dill der Breitmann fall und dey all go down
    Shoost like a row of bricks.

Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners,
    Dey lay dere in a heap,
And slept dill de early sonnen shine
    Come in at de vindow creep;
And de preeze it vake dem from deir dream,
    And dey go to kit deir feed:
Here hat dis song an ende --
    Das ist DES BREITMANNSLEID.


BALLAD.

BY HANS BREITMANN.

Der noble Ritter Hugo
    Von Schwillensaufenstein,
Rode out mit shper and helmet,
    Und he coom to de panks of de Rhine.

Und oop dere rose a meermaid,
    Vot hadn't got nodings on,
Und she say, "Oh, Ritter Hugo,
    Vhere you goes mit yourself alone?"

And he says, "I rides in de creenwood,
    Mit helmet und mit shpeer,
Til I coomes into em Gasthaus,
    Und dere I trinks some beer."

Und den outshpoke de maiden
    Vot hadn't got nodings on:
"I don't dink mooch of beoplesh
    Dat goes mit demselfs alone.

"You'd petter coom down in de wasser,
    Vhere dere's heaps of dings to see,
Und hafe a shplendid tinner
    Und drafel along mit me.

"Dere you sees de fisch a schwimmin',
    Und you catches dem efery von:"--
So sang dis wasser maiden
    Vot hadn't got nodings on.

"Dere ish drunks all full mit money
    In ships dat vent down of old;
Und you helpsh yourself, by dunder!
    To shimmerin' crowns of gold.

"Shoost look at dese shpoons und vatches!
    Shoost see dese diamant rings!
Coom down and fill your bockets,
    Und I'll giss you like efery dings.

"Vot you vantsh mit your schnapps und lager?
    Coom down into der Rhine!
Der ish pottles der Kaiser Charlemagne
    Vonce filled mit gold-red wine!"

Dat fetched him - he shtood all shpell pound;
    She pooled his coat-tails down,
She drawed him oonder der wasser,
    De maiden mit nodings on.


A BALLAD APOUT DE ROWDIES.

De moon shines ofer de cloudlens,
    Und de cloudts plow ofer de sea,
Und I vent to Coney Island,
    Und I took mein Schatz mit me.
Mein Schatz, Katrina Bauer,
    I gife her mein heart und vortdt;
Boot ve tidn't know vot beoples
    De Dampfsschiff hafe cot on poard.

De preeze plowed cool und bleasant,
    We looket at de town
Mit sonn-light on de shdeebles,
    Und wetter fanes doornin' round.
Ve sat on de deck in a gorner
    Und dropled nopody dere,
Vhen all aroundt oos de rowdies
    Peginned to plackguard und schvear.

A voman mit a papy
    Vos sittin' in de blace;
Von tooket a chew tobacco
    Und trowed it indo her vace.
De voman got coonvulshons,
    De papy pegin to gry;
Und de rowdies shkreemed out a laffin,
    Und saidt dat de fun was "high."

Pimepy ve become some hoonger,
    Katrina Bauer und I,
I openet de lit of mine pasket,
    Und pringed out a cherry bie.
A cherry kooken mit pretzels,
    "How goot!" Katrina said,
Vhen a rowdy snatched it from her,
    Und preaked it ofer mine het.

I dells him he pe a plackguart,
    I gifed him a biece my mind,
I vouldt saidt it pefore a tousand,
    Mit der teufel himself pehind.
Den he knocks me down mit a sloong-shot,
    Und peats me plack and plue;
Und de plackguards kick me,
    Dill I vainted, und dat ish drue.

De rich American beoples
    Don't know how de rowdies shtrike
Der poor hardtworkin' Sharman,
    He knows it more ash he like.
If de Deutsche speakers und bapers
    Are somedimes too hard on dis land,
Shoost dink how de Deutsch kit driven
    Along by de rowdy's hand!


THE PICNIC

DE picknock oud at Spraker's Wood:-
It melt de soul und fire de plood.
Id sofly slid from cakes und cream;
Boot busted oop on brandy shdeam.

Mit stims of tender graceful ring,
De gals begoon a song to sing;
A bland mildt lied of olden dime-
Deutsch vas die doon, und Deutsch de rhyme.

Wi's uff der Stross' wenn's finschter ischt,
Und niemond in der Goss' mehr ischt,
Nur Schone Madel wolle mer fonga,
Wie es gebil'te Leut' verlonga.

At de picknock oud in Spraker's Wood,
De Bier was soft-de gals were good:
Oondil von feller, vild and rasch,
Called out for a Yankee brandy-smash!

A crow vot vas valkin on de vall,
Fell dead ven he hear dis Dootchmann call;
For he knew dat droples coom, py shinks!
Ven de Dootch go in for Yankee drinks.

De Dootch got ravin droonk ash sin,
Dey smash de windows out und in;
Dey bust und bang de bar-room ein,
Und call for a bucket of branntewein.

Avay, avay, demselfs dey floong,
Und a wild infernal lied dey sung:
'Tvas, "Tam de wein, and cuss de bier!
Ve tont care nix for de demprance here!

"O keep a pringin juleps in,
Und baldface corn dat burn like sin;
Mit apple tods und oldt shtone fence,
Ve'll all get corned ere ve go hence!"

Dey dash deir glasses on de cround,
Und tanz dill'tvas all to brick-duss ground,
Ven dey hear von man had a ten-dollar note,
De crowd go dead for dat rich man's troat.

A demperance chap vot coomed dere in,
Vent squanderin out mit his shell burst in;
"It's walk your chalks, you loost your chance,
Dis vot de call der Dootchmans' dance."

Boot ven de law, mit his myrmidon,
Vas hear of dese Dootchmen's carryins-on,
Dey sent bolicemen shtern und good,
To pull dose Dootch in Spraker's Wood.

De Dootch vas all gone roarin mad,
Und trinked mit Spraker all dey had;
Dey shpend 'nuf money to last deir life,
And each vas tantzin mit anoder man's wife.

Dey all cot poonish difers vays,
Some vent to jug for dirty tays;
Und de von dat kilt de demperance man
Vas kit from de Alderman repriman.

Und dus it ran:-"A warnin dake,
For you mighdt hafe mate soom pig mishdake;
Now how vouldt you hafe feeled, py shing!
If dat man hat peen in de whiskey ring?

"Since you votes mine dicket, of course you know,
I'm pound to led you shlide und go.
Boot nefer on whiskey trink your fill,
For you Dootchmen don't know who to kill."

Now Deutschers all-on dis warning dink,
Und don't get troonk on Yankee trink,
For neider you, or anoder man,
Can pe hocks like de New York rowdies can.

So trink goot bier, mit musik plest,
For if you tried your level best,
You can't be plackguarts-taint in de plood:
Dus endet de shdory of Spraker's Wood.


I GILI ROMANESKRO.

A GIPSY BALLAD.

    Vhen der Herr Breitmann vas a yungling, he vas go bummin aroundt
goot deal in de worldt, vestigatin human natur, roulant de vergne
en vergne, ash de Fraentsch boet says: "goin from town to town;"
seein beobles in gemixed sociedy, und learnin dose languages vitch
ornamendt a drue moskopolite, or von whose kopf ish bemosst mit
experience.  Mong oder tongues, ash it would appeared, he shpoke
fluendly, Red Welsh, Black Dootch, Kauder-Waelsch, Gaunersprache,
und Shipsy; und dis latter languashe he pring so wide dat he write
a pook of pallads in it,-von of vitch pallads I hafe intuce him mit
moosh droples to telifer ofer to de worldt.  De inclined reader
vill, mit crate heavy-hood blace pefore himself de fexation und
lapor I hafe hat in der Breitmann his absents, to ged dese Shipsy
verses broperly gorrected; as de only shentleman in town who vas
culpable of so doin, ish peen gonfined in de town-brison, pout some
droples he hat for shdealin some hens; und pefore I couldt consoolt
mit him, he vas rooned afay.  Denn I fond an oldt vomans Shipsy,
who vas do nodings boot peg, und so wider mit pout five or four
oders more.  Derfore, de errordoms moost pe excused py de enlightened
pooplic, who are fomiliar mit dis peautiful languashe, vitch is now so
shenerally fashionabel in laterary und shpordin circles.

F. SCHWACKENHAMMER.

----------

I GILI ROMANESKRO.

Schunava, ke baschno del a godla,
    Schunava Paschomaskro.
Te del miro Dewel tumen
    Dschavena Bachtallo.[3]

Schunava opre to ruka
    Chiriklo ke gillela:
Kamovela but dives,
    Eh'me pale kamaveva.

Apo je wa'wer divesseste
    Schunava pro gilaviben,
M'akana me avava,
    Pro marzos, pro kuriben.

So korava kuribente,
    So korava apre drom;
Me kanav miri romni,
    So kamela la lakero rom.

DRANSLATION.

I hear de gock a growin!
    I hear de musikant!
Gott gife dee a happy shourney
    Vhen you go to a distand landt.

I hears oopon de pranches
    A pird mit merry shdrain,
Goot many tays moost fanish
    Ere I coom to dis blace again.

Oopon some oder tay-times
    I'll hear dat song from dee;
Boot now I goes ash soldier
    To war, o'er de rollin sea.

Und vot I shdeals in pattle,
    Und vot on de road I shdeal,
I'll pring all to my true lofe
    Who lofes her lofer so well.


STEINLI VON SLANG.

I.

DER watchman look out from his tower
    Ash de Abendgold glimmer grew dim,
Und saw on de road troo de Gauer
    Ten shpearmen coom ridin to him:
Und he schvear: "May I lose my next bitter,
    Und denn mit der Teufel go hang!
If id isn't dat pully young Ritter,
    De hell-drivin Steinli von Slang.

"De vorldt nefer had any such man,
    He vights like a sturm in its wrath:
You may call me a recular Dutchman,
    If he arn't like Goliath of Gath.
He ish big ash de shiant O'Brady,
    More ash sefen feet high on a string,
Boot he can't vin de hearts of my lady,
    De lofely Plectruda von Sling."

De lady make welcome her gast in,
    Ash he shtep to de dop of de shtair,
She look like an angel got lost in
    A forest of audumn-prown hair.
Und a bower-maiden said ash she tarried:
    "I wish I may bust mit a bang!
If id isn't a shame she ain't married
    To der her-re-liche Steinli von Slang!"

He pows to de cround fore de lady,
    Vhile his vace ish ash pale ash de tead;
Und she vhispers oonto him a rede
    Ash mit arrow point accents, she said:
"You hafe long dimes peen dryin to win me,
    You hafe vight, and mine braises you sing,
Boot I'm 'fraid dat de notion aint in me,
    De Lady Plectruda von Sling.

"Boot brafehood teserves a reward, sir;
    Dough you've hardly a chost of a shanse.
Sankt Werolf! medinks id ish hard, sir,
    I should allaweil lead you dis dance."
Like a bees vhen it it booz troo de clofer,
    Dese murmurin accents she flang,
Vhile singin, a stingin her lofer,
    Der woe-moody Ritter von Slang.

"Boot if von ding you do, I'll knock under,
    Our droples moost endin damit
Und if you pull troo it,- by donder!
    I'll own myself euchred, und bit.
I schvear py de holy Sanct Chlody!
    Py mine honor-und avery ding!
You may hafe me-soul, puttons und pody,
    Mit de whole of Plectruda von Sling."

"Und dish ish de test of your power:-
    Vhile ve shtand ourselfs round in a row,
You moost roll from de dop of dis tower,
    Down shdairs to de valley pelow.
Id ish rough and shteep ash my virtue:"
    (Mit schwanenshweet accents she sang:)
"Tont try if you dinks id vill hurt you,
    Mine goot liddle Ritter von Slang."

An Moormoor arosed mong de beoples;
    In fain tid she doorn in her shkorn,
Der vatchman on dop of de shdeeples
    Plowed a sorryfool doon on his horn.
Ash dey look down de dousand-foot treppe,
    Dey schveared dey vouldt pass on de ding,
Und not roll down de firstest tam steppe
    For a hoondred like Fraulein von Sling.

II.

'Twas audumn.  De dry leafs vere bustlin
    Und visperin deir elfin wild talk,
Vhen shlow, mit his veet in dem rustlin,
    Herr Steinli coomed out for a walk.
Wild dooks vly afar in de gloamin,
    He hear a vaint gry vrom de gang;
Und vished he vere off mit dem roamin:
    De heart-wounded Ritter Von Slang.

Und ash he vent musin und shbeakin,
    He se, shoost ahead in his vay,
In sinkular manner a streakin,
    A strange liddle bein, in cray,
Who toorned on him quick mit a holler,
    Und cuttin a dwo bigeon ving,
Cried, "Say, can you change me a thaler,
    Oh, guest of de Lady von Sling?"

De knight vas a goot-nadured veller,
    (De peggars all knowed him at sight,)
So he forked out each groschen und heller,
    Dill he fix de finances aright.
Boot shoost ash de liddle man vent, he,
    (Der Ritter,) ashtonished cried "Dang!"
For id vasn't von thaler boot tventy,
    He'd passed on der Ritter von Slang.

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!

"Ash vinter pring de ice-wind
    Vitch plow o'er Burg und hill,
Hard times pring in de landlord,
    Und de landlord pring the pill.
Boot sing Maidelein - rothe Waengelein!
    Mit wein glass in your paw!
Ve'll get troonk among de roses,
    Und pe soper on de shtraw!"

Dey dook der Breitmann homewarts,
    Boot efer on de vay
He nefer shpeaket no man,
    Und nodings else couldt say,
Boot, "Maidelein - rothe Waengelein!
    Mit wein-glass in her paw,
Ve'll get troonk among de roses,
    Und pe soper on de shtraw!"

Dey laid der Hans im bette,
    Peneat' de eider doun,
Und sembelet all de doktors
    Who doktor in de town,-
Dat ish, de Deutsche Aertzte,-
    For Breitmann alvays says,
De Deutschers ish de onlies
    Mit originell idees.

Der vas Doktor Moritz Schlinkenschlag,
    Dat vork ash Cafeopath,
Und de learned Cobus Schoepfskopf,
    Who use de milchy bath;
Und Korschalitschky aus Boehmen,
    Vhat cure mit slibovitz,
Und Wechselbalg, der Preusse,
    Who only 'tend to fits.

Dere vas Strobbich aus Westfalen,
    Who mofe all eart'ly ills
Mit concentrirter Schinken juice,
    Und Pumpernickel pills.
Und a bier-kur man from Munich,
    Und a grape-curist from Rhein,
Und von who shkare tiseases
    Mit a dose of Schlesier-wein.

So dey meet in consooldation,
    Mit Doktor Winkeleck,
Who proctice "renovation"
    Mit sauer-kraut und speck.
Und dat no man shouldt pe shlightet,
    Or dreatet ash a tunce,
Dey 'greed to dry deir systems
    Oopon Breitmann - all at vonce.

Dat ish, mit de exscepdion
    Of gifin' Schlesier-wein:
For de remedy vas dangerfull
    For von who trink from Rhein.
Ash der Teufel vonce deklaret,
    Vhen he taste it on a shpree,
Dat a man, to trink soosh liquor,
    Moost a porn Silesian pe.

So dey all vent los at Breitmann,
    Und woonderfool to dell,
He coom to his Gesundheit,
    Und pooty soon cot vell.
Some hinted at Natura,
    Mit her olt vis sanatrix,
Boot eash doktor shvore he curet him,
    Und de rest were taugenix.

I know not vot der Breitmann
    More newly has pegun;
Boot dey say he talks day-dayly
    Mit Dana of de Sun.
Dey talk in Deutsch togeder,
    Und volk say de end will be,
Philosopedal shanges
    In de Union Cavallrie.

Gott helf de howlin' safage!
    Got helf de Indi-an!
Shouldt Breitmann shoin his forces
    Mit Sheneral Sheridan!
Und denn, to sing his braises,
    I'll write anoder lied:
Hier hat dis dale an ende,
    Of Breitmann's Philosopede!


DIE SCHONE WITTWE[9]

(DE POOTY VIDOW.)

I.

VOT DE YANKEE CHAP SUNG.

DAT pooty liddle vidow
    Vot ve dosh'nt vish to name,
Ish still leben on dat liddle shtreet,
    A doin' shoost de same.
De glerks aroundt de gorners
    Somedimes goes round to zee
How die tarlin' liddle vitchy ees,
    Und ask 'er how she pe.
Dey lofes her ver' goot liquoer,
    Dey lofes her liddle shtore;
Dey lofes her little paby,
    But dey lofes die vidow more.
To dalk mit dat shveet vidow,
    Ven she hands das lager round,
Vill make der shap dat does id
    Pe happy, ve'll be pound.
Dat ish if we can vell pelieve
    De glerks vat drinks das beer,
Who goes in dere for noding elshe,
    Put simply for to zee her.


II.

HOW DER BREITMANN CUT HIM OUT.

Oh yes I know die wittwe,
    Mit eyes so prite und proun!
She's de allerschoenste wittwe
    Vot live in dis here down.
In her plack silk gown - mine grashious!-
    All puttoned to de neck-
Und a pooty liddle collar,
    Mitout a shpot or shpeck.
Ho! clear de drack you oder fraus-
    You can't pegin to shine
Vhen de lofely vidder cooms along-
    Dis vidder ash ish mine!
Ho! clear de drack you Yankee chaps,
    You Englishers und sooch,
You can't pegin to coot me out,
    Mitout you dalks in Dootch.
Ich hab die schoene wittwe
    Schon lange nit gesehn,
Ich sah sie gestern Abend
    Wohl bei dem Counter Stehn.
Die Wangen rein wie Milch and Blut
    Die Augen hell und klar.
Ich hab sie sechsmal auch gekusst-
    Potztausend! das ist wahr.[10]


BREITMANN IN BATTLE

"TUNC TAPFRE AUSFUHRERE STREITUM ET RITTRIS DIGNUM POTUERE ERIAGERE
LOBUM."

"Hiltibraht enti Hadubrant."

DER FADER UND DER SON.[11]

I DINKS I'll go a vightin'" - outshpoke der Breitemann.
"It's eighdeen hoonderd fordy-eight since I kits swordt in hand;
Dese fourdeen years mit Hecker all roostin' I haf been,
Boot now I kicks der Teufel oop and goes for sailin' in."

"If you go land out-ridin'," said Caspar Pickletongue,
"Foost ding you knows you cooms across some repels prave and young.
Away down Sout' in Tixey, dey'll split you like a clam"-
"For dat," spoke out der Breitmann, "I doos not gare one tam!

"Who der Teufel pe's de repels, und vhere dey kits deir sass?
If dey make a run on Breitmann he'll soon let out de gas;
I'll shplit dem like kartoffels; I'll schlog em on de kop;
I'll set de plackguarts roonin' so, dey don't know vhere to shtop."

Und de outshpoke der Breitmann, mit his schlaeger py his side:
"Forvarts, my pully landsmen! it's dime to run and ride;
Vill riden, vill vighten - der Copitain I'll pe,
It's sporn und horn und saddle now - all in de Cavallrie!"

Und ash dey rode droo Vinchesder, so herrlich to be seen,
Dere coomed some repel cavallrie a riden' on de creen;
Mit a sassy repel Dootchman - an colonel in gommand,
Says he, "Vot Teufel makes you here in dis mein Faderland?

"You're dressed oop like a shentleman mit your
     plackguart Yankee crew,
You mudsills and meganics! Der Teufel put you droo!
Old Yank, you ought to shtay at home und dake your liddle horn,
Mit some oldt voomans for a noorse" - der Breitmann
     laugh mit shkorn.

"Und should I trink mein lager beer und roost mine self to home?
I'fe got too many dings like you to mash beneat' my thoom:
In many a fray und fierce foray dis Dootchman will be feared
Pefore he stops dis vightin' trade - 'twas dere he grayed
    his peard."

"I pools dat peard out py de roots - I gifes him such a dwist
Dill all de plood roons out, you tamned old Apolitionist!
You creenpacks mit your swordt und vatch, right ofer
    you moost shell,
Und den you goes to Libby stright - und after dat to h-ll!"

"Mein creenpacks and mein schlaeger, I kits 'em in New York,
To gife dem up to creenhorns, young man, is not de talk;"
De heroes shtopped deir sassin' here und grossed deir sabres dwice,
Und de vay dese Deutschers vent to vork vos von pig ding on ice.

Der younger fetch de older such a gottallmachty shmack
Der Breitmann dinks he really hears his skool go shplit and crack;
Der repel shoomps dwelfe paces back, und so he safe his life:
Der Breitmann says: "I guess dem shoomps, you
    learns dem of your vife."

"If I should learn of vomans I dinks it vere a shame,
Bei Gott I am a shentleman, aristograt, and game.
My fader vos anoder - I lose him fery young-
Der Teufel take your soul!  Coom on!  I'll split your
    vaggin' tongue!"

A Yankee drick der Breitmann dried - dat oldt gray-pearded man-
For ash the repel raised his swordt, beneat' dat sword he ran.
All round der shlim yoong repels vaist his arms oldt
    Breitmann pound,
Und shlinged him down oopon his pack and laidt him on der ground.

"Who rubs against olt kittle-pots may keep vhite - if he can,
Say vot you dinks of vightin' now mit dis oldt shentleman?
Your dime is oop; you got to die, und I your breest vill pe;
Peliev'st dou in Moral Ideas?  If so, I lets you free."[12]

"I don't know nix apout ideas - no more dan 'pout Saint Paul,
Since I'fe peen down in Tixey I kits no books at all;
I'm greener ash de clofer-grass; I'm shtupid as a shpoon;
I'm ignoranter ash de nigs - for dey takes de Tribune.

"Mein fader's name vas Breitmann, I heard mein mutter say,
She read de bapers dat he died after she rooned afay;
Dey say he leaf some broperty - berhaps 'tvas all a sell-
If I could lay mein hands on it I likes it mighty vell."

"Und vas dy fader Breitmann?  Bist du his kit and kin?
Denn know dat ich der Breitmann dein lieber Vater bin?"
Der Breitmann poolled his hand-shoe off und shooked him py de hand;
"Ve'll hafe some trinks on strengt' of dis - or else may
        I be tam'd!"

"Oh! fader, how I shlog your kop," der younger Breitmann said;
"I'd den dimes sooner had it coom right down on mein own headt!"
"Oh, never mind - dat soon dry oop - I shticks him mit a blaster;
If I had shplit you like a fish, dat vere an vorse tisasder."

Dis fight did last all afternoon - wohl to de fesper tide,
Und droo de streets of Vinchesder, der Breitmann he did ride.
Vot vears der Breitmann on his hat?  De ploom of fictory!
Who's dat a ridin' py his side?  "Dis here's mein son," says he.

How stately rode der Breitmann oop! - how lordly he kit down!
How glorious from de great pokal he drink de beer so prown!
But der Younger bick der parrel oop und schwig him all at one.
"Bei Gott! dat settles all his dings - I know dou art mein son!"

Der one has got a fader; de oder found a child.
Bofe ride oopon one war-path now in pattle fierce und vild.
It makes so glad our hearts to hear dat dey did so succeed-
Und damit hat sein Ende DES JUNGEN BREITMANN'S LIED.


BREITMANN IN MARYLAND.

DER BREITMANN mit his gompany
    Rode out in Marylandt.
"Dere's nix to trink in dis countrie;
    ine droat's as dry as sand.
It's light canteen und haversack,
    It's hoonger mixed mit doorst;
Und if ve had some lager beer
    I'd trink oontil I boorst.
Gling, glang, gloria!
    Ve'd trink oontil ve boorst.[13]

Herr Leut'nant, take a dozen men,
    Und ride dis land around!
Herr Feldwebel, go foragin'
    Dill somedings goot is found.
Gotts-donder! men, go ploonder!
    Ve hafn't trinked a bit
Dis fourdeen hours!  If I had beer
    I'd sauf oontil I shplit!
Gling, glang, gloria!
    Ve'd sauf oontil ve shplit!"

At mitternacht a horse's hoofs
    Coom rattlin' droo de camp;
"Rouse dere! - coom rouse der house dere!
    Herr Copitain - ve moost tromp!
De scouds have found a repel town,
    Mit repel davern near,
A repel keller in de cround,
    Mit repel lager beer!!
Gling, glang, gloria!
    All fool of lager beer!"

Gottsdonnerkreuzschockschwerenoth!
    How Breitmann broked de bush!
"O let me see dat lager beer!
    O let me at him rush!
Und is mein sabre sharp und true,
    Und is mein var-horse goot?
To get one quart of lager beer
    I'd shpill a sea of ploot.
Gling, glang, gloria!
    I'd shpill a sea of ploot.

"Fuenf hoonderd repels hold de down,
    One hoonderd strong are ve;
Who gares a tam for all de odds
    Vhen men so dirsty pe."
And in dey smashed and down dey crashed,
    Like donder-polts dey fly,
Rash fort as der vild yaeger cooms
    Mit blitzen droo de shky.
Gling, glang, gloria!
    Like blitzen droo de shky.

How flewed to rite, how flewed to left
    De moundains, drees, und hedge;
How left und rite de yaeger corps
    Vent donderin' droo de pridge.
Und splash und splosh dey ford de shtream
    Vhere not some pridges pe:
All dripplin' in de moondlight peam
    Stracks vent de Cavallrie.
Gling, glang, gloria!
    Der Breitmann's cavallrie.

Und hoory, hoory, on dey rote,
    Oonheedin' vet or try;
Und horse und rider shnort and blowed
    Und shparklin' bepples fly.
Ropp! Ropp! I shmell de parley-prew!
    Dere's somedings goot ish near.
Ropp! Ropp! - I scent de kneiperei;
    Ve've got to lager beer!
Gling, glang, gloria!
    Ve've got to lager beer!

Hei! how de carpine pullets klinged
    Oopon de helmets hart!
Oh, Breitmann - how dy sabre ringed;
    Du alter Knasterbart!
De contrapands dey sing for shoy
    To see de rebs go down,
Und hear der Breitmann grimly gry:
    Hoorah! - ve've dook de down.
Gling, glang, gloria!
        Victoria, victoria!
    De Dootch have dook de down.

Mid shout and crash and sabre flash,
    And vild husaren shout
De Dootchmen boorst de keller in,
    Und rolled de lager out;
Und in de coorlin' powder shmoke,
    Vhile shtill de pullets sung,
Dere shtood der Breitmann, axe in hand,
    A knockin' out de boong.
      Gling, glang, gloria!
        Victoria! Encoria!
    De shpicket beats de boong.

Gotts! vot a shpree der Breitmann had
    Vhile yet his hand was red,
A trinkin' lager from his poots
    Among de repel tead.[14]
"Tvas dus dey vent at mitternight
    Along der moundain side;
'Tvas dus dey help make history!
    Dis vas der Breitmann's ride.
      Gling, glang, gloria!
      Victoria! Victoria!
      Cer'visia, encoria!
    De treadful mitnight ride
Of Breitmann's vild Freischarlinger,
    All famous, broad, und vide.


BREITMANN AS A BUMMER

DER SHENERAL SHERMAN holts oop on his coorse,
    He shtops at de gross-road und reins in his horse.
"Dere's a ford on de rifer dis day we moost dake,
    Or elshe de grand army in bieces shall preak!"
Vhen shoost ash dis vord from his lips had gone bast,
    There coomed a young orterly gallopin' fast,
Who gry mit amazement: "Herr Shen'ral! Goot Lord!
    Dat Bummer der Breitmann ish holdin' der ford!"

Der Shen'ral he ootered no hymn und no psalm,
    But opened his lips und he priefly say "D--n!
Dere moost hafe been viskey on dat side der rifer;
    To get it dose shaps vould set hell in a shiver;
But now dat dey hold it, ride quick to deir aid:
    Ho, Sickles! move promp'ly, send down a prigade!
Dat Dootchman moost vork mighty hard mit his sword
    If againsd a whole army he holds to de ford."

Dey spoored on, dey hoory'd on, gallopin' shtraight,
    But for Breitmann help coomed shoost a liddle too late,
For as de Lauwine goes smash mit her pound,
    So on to de Bummers de repels coom down:
Heinrich von Schinkenstein's tead in de road,
    Dieterich Hinkelbein's flat as a toad;
Und Sepperl - Tyroler - shpoke nefer a vord,
    But shoost "Mutter Gottes!" und died in de ford.

Itsch'l of Innspruck ish drilled droo de hair,
    Einer aus Boblingen[15] - he too vash dere-
Karli of Karlisruh's shot near de fence
    (His horse vash o'erloadet mit toorkies und hens),
Und dough he like a ravin' mad cannibal fought
    Yet der Breitmann - der capt'n - der hero vash caught;
Und de last dings ve saw, he vas tied mit a cord,
    For de repels had goppled him oop at de ford.

Dey shtripped off his goat und skyugled his poots
    Dey dressed him mit rags of a repel recruits;
But von gray-haared oldt veller shmiled crimly und bet
    Dat Breitmann vouldt be a pad egg for dem yet.
"He has more on his pipe[16] as dem vellers allows,
    He has cardts yet in hand und das Spiel ist nicht aus,
Dey'll find dat dey took in der Teufel to board,
    De day dey pooled Breitmann vell ofer de ford."

In de Bowery each beer-haus mit crape vas oopdone,
    Vhen dey read in de papers dat Breitmann vas gone;
Und de Dootch all cot troonk oopon lager und wein,
    At the great Trauer-fest of de Turner Verein.
Dere vas wein - en mit weinen ven beoplesh did dink
    Dat Sherman's great Sharman cood nefer more trink.
Und in Villiam Shtreet veepin' und vailen' vas hoor'd,
    Pecause der Hans Breitmann vas lost at de ford.

SECOND PART.

In dulce jubilo now ve all sings,
    A-vaifin' de panners like efery dings.
De preeze droo de bine-trees ish cooler und salt,
    Und der Shen'ral is merry venefer ve halt;
Loosty und merry he schmells at de preeze,
    Lustig und heiter he looks droo de drees,
Lustig und heiter ash vell he may pe,
    For Sherman, at last has marched down to the sea.

Dere's a gry from de guart - dere's a clotter und dramp,
    Vhen dat fery same orterly rides droo de camp
Who report on de ford.  Dere ish droples and awe
    In de face of de youf' apout somedings he saw;
Und he shpeak me in Fraentsch, like he always do: "Look!
    Sagre pleu! Fentre Tieu! - dere ish Breitmann - his spook!
He ish goming dis vay!  Nom de Garce![17] can it pe
    Dat de spooks of de tead men coom down to de sea!"

Und he looks, und ve sees, und ve tremples mit tread,
    For risin' all swart on de efenin' red
Vas Johannes - der Breitmann - der war es, bei Gott!
    Coom riding' to oos-vard, right shtraight to de shpot!
All mouse-still ve shtood, yet mit oop-shoompin' hearts,
    For he look shoost so pig as de shiant of de Hartz;
Und I heard de Sout Deutschers say "Ave Morie!
    Braise Gott all goot shpirids py land und by sea!"

Boot Itzig of Frankfort he lift oop his nose,
    Und be-mark dat de shpook hat peen changin' his clothes,
For he seemed like an Generalissimus drest
    In a vlamin' new coat und magnificent vest.
Six bistols beschlagen mit silber he vore,
    Und a cold mounded swordt like a Kaisar he bore,
Und ve dinks dat de ghosdt - or votever he pe-
    Moost hafe proken some panks on his vay to de sea.

"Id is he!""Und er lebt noch!" he lifes ve all say:
    "Der Breitmann - Oldt Breitmann! - Hans Breitmann! Herr Je!"
Und ve roosh to emprace him, und shtill more ve find
    Dat vherefer he'd peen, he'd left noding pehine.
In bofe of his poots dere vas porte-moneys crammed,
    Mit creen-packs stoof full all his haversack jammed,
In his bockets cold dollars vere shinglin' deir doons
    Mit dwo doozen votches und four dozen shpoons,
Und dwo silber tea-pods for makin' his dea,
    Der ghosdt hafe pring mit him, en route to de sea.

Mit goot sweed-botatoes, und doorkies, und rice,
    Ve makes him a sooper of efery dings nice.
Und de bummers hoont roundt apout, alle wie ein,
    Dill dey findt a plantaschion mit parrels of wein.
Den t'vas "Here's to you, Breitmann! Alt Schwed"[18] - bist zuruck?
    Vot teufels you makes since dis fourteen nights veek?"
Und ve holds von shtupendous and derriple shpree
    For shoy dat der Breitmann has got to de sea.

But in fain tid we ashk vhere der Breitmann hat peen,
    Vot he tid; vot he pass droo - or vot he might seen?
Vhere he kits his vine horse, or who gafe him dem woons,
    Und how Brovidence plessed him mit tea-pods und shpoons?
For to all of dem queeries he only reblies,
    "If you dells me no quesdions, I ashks you no lies!"
So 'twas glear dat some derriple mysh'dry moost pe
    Vhere he kits all dat ploonder he prings to de sea.

Dere ish bapers in Richmond dells derriple lies
    How Sherman's grand armee hafe raise deir sooplies:
For ve readt in brindt dat der Sheneral Grant
    Say de bummers hafe only shoost take vat dey vant.
But 'tis vhispered dat vhile a refolfer'll go round
    Der BREITMANN vill nefer a peggin' be found;
Or shtarvin' ash brisner - by doonder! - not he,
    Vhile der Teufel could help him to ged to de sea.


BREITMANN'S GOING TO CHURCH.

"Vides igitur, Collega carissime, visitationem canonicam esse rem
haud ita periculosam, sed valde amoenam, si modo vinum, groggio et
cibi praesto sunt."
        - Novissimae Epistolae Obscurorum Virorum, Berolini F.
             Berggold, 1869.  Epistola xxiii., p. 63.

D'VAS near de state of Nashfille,
    In de town of Tennessee,
Der Breitmann vonce vas quarderd
    Mit all his cavallrie.
Der Sheneral kept him glose in gamp,
    He vouldn't let dem go;
Dey couldn't shdeal de first plack hen,
    Or make de red cock crow.

Und virst der Breitmann vildly shmiled,
    Und denn he madly shvore;
"Crate h--l, mit shpoons und shinsherbread,
    Can dis pe makin war?
Verdammt pe all der discipline!
    Verdammt der Sheneral!
Vere I vonce on de road, his will,
    Vere wurst mir und egal.    [19]

"Oh vhere ish all de plazin roofs
    Dat claddened vonce mine eyes?
Und vhere de crand plantaschions
    Vhere ve gaddered many a brize?
Und vhere de plasted shpies ve hung
    A howlin loud mit fear?
Und vhere de rascal push-whackers
    Ve shashed like vritened deer?

"De roofs are shtandin fast and firm
    Mit repels blottin oonder;
De crand blantaschions lie round loose
    For Morgan's men to ploonder!
De shpies go valkin out und in,
    Ash sassy ash can pe;
Und in de voods de push-whackers
    Are makin foon of me!

"Oh vere I on my schimmel grey
    Mein sabre in mein hand,
Dey should drack me py de ruins
    Of de houses troo de land.
Dey should drack me py de puzzards
    High sailen ofer head,
A vollowin der Breitmann's trail
    To claw de repel dead."

Outspoke der bold Von Stossenheim,
    Who had theories of Gott:
"O Breitmann, dis ish shoodgement on
    De vays dat you hafe trot.
You only lifes to joy yourself,
    Yet you, yourself moost say,
Dat self-defelopment requires
    De religios Idee."

Dey sat dem down and argued id,
    Like Deutschers vree from fear,
Dill dey schmoke ten pounds of knaster,
    Und drinked drei fass of bier.
Der Breitmann go py Schopenhauer,
    Boot Veit he had him denn;
For he dook him on de angles
    Of de moral oxygen.

Der Breitmann 'low, dat 'pentence,
    Ish known in efery glime,
Und dat to grin und bear it
    Vas healty und soopline.
"For mine Sout German Catolicks,
    Id vas pe goot, I know;
Likevise dem Nordland Luterans,
    If vonce to shoorsh dey go.

"Boot how vas id mit oders
    Who dinks philosophie?
I don't begreif de matter,"
    Said Stossenheim: "Denn see.
De more dat shoorsh disgoostet you,
    Und make despise und bain,
De crater merid ish to go,
    Und de crater ish your gain.

"I know a liddle shoorsh mineself,
    Oopon de Bole Jack road:
(De rebs vonce shot dree Federals dere,
    Ash into shoorsh dey goed.)
Dere you might make a bilcrimage,
    Und do id in a tay:
Gott only knows vot dings you mighdt
    Bick oop, oopon de vay."

Denn oop dere shpoke a contrapand,
    Vas at de tent id's toor-
"Dere's twenty bar'ls of whiskey, hid,
    In dat tabernacle, shore.
A rebel he done gone and put
    It in de cellar, true,
No libin man dat secret knows,
    'Cept only me an' you."

Der Stossenheim, he grossed himself,
    Und knelt peside de fence,
Und gried: "O Coptain Breitmannn, see,
    Die finger Providence."
Der Breitmann droed his hat afay,
    Says he, "Pe't hit or miss,
I'fe heard of miragles pefore,
    Boot none so hunk ash dis."

"Wohlauf mine pully cafaliers,
    Ve'll ride to shoorsh to-day,
Each man ash hasn't cot a horse
    Moost shteal von, rite afay.
Dere's a raw, green corps from Michigan,
    Mit horses on de loose,
You men ash vants some hoof-irons,
    Look out and crip deir shoes."

All brooshed und fixed, de cavallrie,
    Rode out py moonen shine,
De cotton fields in shimmerin light,
    Lay white as elfenbein.
Dey heard a shot close py Lavergne,
    Und men who rode afay,
In de road a-velterin his his ploot,
    A Federal picket lay.

Und all dat he hafe dimes to say,
    "Vhile shtandin at my post,
De guerillas got first shot at me,"
    Und so gafe oop de ghost.
Denn a contrapand, who helt his head,
    Said: "Sah - dose grillers all
Is only half a mile from hy'ar,
    A dancin at a ball."

Der Breitmann shpoke and brummed it out
    Ash if his heart tid schvell:
"I'll gife dem music at dat pall
    Vill tantz dem into hell."
Hei! - arrow-fast - a teufel's ride!
    De plack man led de vay,
Dey reach de house - dey see de lights-
    Dey heard de fiddle blay.

Dey nefer vaited for a word
    Boot galloped from de gloom,
Und, bang! - a hoonderd carpine shots
    Dey fired indo de room.
Oop vent de groans of vounded men,
    De fittlin died away:
Boot some of dem vere tead pefore
    De music ceased to blay.

Denn crack und smack coom scotterin shots
    Troo vindow und troo door,
Boot bang and clang de Germans gife
    Anoder volley more.
"Dere - let 'em shlide.  Right file to shoorsh!"
    Aloudt de orders ran.
"I kess I paid dem for dat shot,"
    Shpeak grim der Breitemann.

All rosen red de mornin fair
    Shone gaily o'er de hill,
A violet plue de shky crew teep
    In rifer, pond, und rill;
All cloudy grey de limeshtone rocks
    Coom oop troo dimmerin wood;
All shnowy vite in mornin light
    De shoorsh pefore dem shtood.

"Now loudet vell de organ, oop,
    To drill mit solemn fear;
Und ring also dat Lumpenglock
    To pring de beoples here.
Und if it prings guerillas down,
    Ve'll gife dem, py de Lord,
De low-mass of de sabre, and
    De high-mass of de cord.[20]

"Du, Eberle aus Freiburg,
    Du bist ein Musikant,
Top-sawyer on de counterpoint
    Und buster in discant,
To dee de soul of musik
    All innerly ish known,
Du canst mit might fullenden
    De art of orgel-ton.

"Derefore, a Miserere
    Vill dou, be-ghostet, spiel,
Und vake be-raised, yearnin,
    Also a holy feel:-
Pe referent, men - rememper
    Dis ish a Gotteshaus-
Du Conrad - go along de aisles
    Und schenk de whiskey aus!:

Dey blay crate dings from Mozart,
    Beethoven, und Mehul
Mit chorals of Sebastian Bach
    Soopline und peaudiful.
Der Breitmann feel like holy saints,
    De tears roon down his fuss;
Und he sopped out, "got verdammich - dis
    Ist wahres Kunstgenuss!"[21]

Der Eberle blayed oop so high,
    He maket de rafters ring;
Der Eberle blayed lower, und
    Ve heardt der Breitmann sing
Like a dronin wind in piney woods
    Like a nightly moanin sea:
Ash de dinked on Sonntags long agone
    Vhen a poy in Germany.

Und louder und mit louder tone
    High oop de orgel blowed,
Und plentifuller efer yet
    Around de whiskey goed.
Dey singed ash if mit singin, dey
    Might indo Himmel win:-
I dink in all dis land soosh shprees
    Ash yet hafe nefer peen.

Vhen in de Abendsonnenschein,
    Mit doost-clouds troo de door,
All plack ash night in golden lighdt
    Der shtood ein schwartzer Mohr,
Dat contrapand so wild und weh,
    Mit eye-palls glaring roun,
Who cried "For Gott's sake, hoory oop!
    De reps ish gomin down!"

Und while he yet was shpeakin,
    A far-off soundt pegan,
Down rollin from de moundain
    Of many a ridersmann.
Und vhile de waves of musik
    Vere rollin o'er deir heads,
Dey heard a foice a schkreemin,
    "Pile out of thar, you Feds!

"For we uns ar' a comin
    For to guv to you uns fits,
And knock you into brimstun
    And blast you all to bits"-
Boot ere it done ids shpeakin,
    Der vas order in de band,
Ash Breitmann, mit an awfool stim
    Out-dondered his gommand.

Und ash fisch-hawk at a mackarel
    Doth make a splurgin flung,
Und ash eagles dab de fish-hawks
    Ash if de gods vere young,
So from all de doors and vindows,
    Like shpiders down deir webs
De Dootch went at deir horses,
    Und de horses at de rebs.

Crate shplendors of de treadful
    Vere in dat pattle rush,
Crate vights mit swords und carpine,
    Py efery fence and bush.
Ash panters vight mit crislies
    In famished morder fits-
For de rebs vere mad ash boison,
    Und de Dootch vere droonk ash blitz.

Yet vild ash vas de pattle,
    So quickly vas it o'er,
O, vhy moost I forefer
    Pestain mine page mit gore?
Py liddle und py liddle
    Dey drawed demselfs afay,
Oft toornin' round to vighten
    Like boofaloes at bay.

De scatterin shots grew fewer,
    De scatterin gries more shlow,
Und furder troo de forest
    Ve heard dem vainter grow.
Ve gife von shout - "Victoria!"
    Und denn der Breitmann said,
Ash he wiped his ploody sabre:
    "Now, poys, count oop your dead!"

Oh small had been our shoutin
    For shoy, if ve had known
Dat der Stossenheim im oaken wald,
    Lay dyin all alone.
Vhile his oldt vhite horse mit droopin het
    Look dumbly on him doun,
Ash if he dinked, "Vy lyest dou here
    Vhile fightin's goin on?"

Und dreams coom o'er de soldier
    Slow dyin on de eart;
Of a schloss afar in Baden,
    Of his mutter, und nople birt!
Of poverty and sorrow,
    Vhich drofe him like de wind,
Und he sighed, "Ach weh for de lofed ones,
    Who wait so far pehind!"

"Wohl auf, my soul o'er de moundains!
    Wohl auf - well ofer de sea!
Dere's a frau dat sits in de Odenwald
    Und shpins, und dinks of me.
Dere's a shild ash blays in de greenin grass,
    Und sings a liddle hymn,
Und learns to shpeak a fader's name
    Dat she nefer will shpeak to him.

"But mordal life ends shortly
    Und Heafen's life is long:-
Wo bist du Breitmann? - glaub'es-[22]
    Gott suffers noding wrong.
Now I die like a Christian soldier,
    My head oopon my sword:-
In nomine Domini!"-
    Vas Stossenheim his word.

O, dere vas bitter wailen
    Vhen Stossenheim vas found.
Efen from dose dere lyin
    Fast dyin on de ground.
Boot time vas short for vaiten,
    De shades vere gadderin dim:
Und I nefer shall forget it,
    De hour ve puried him.

De tramp of horse und soldiers
    Vas all de funeral knell;
De ring of sporn und carpine
    Vas all de sacrin bell.
Mit hoontin knife und sabre
    Dey digged de grave a span,
From German eyes blue gleamin
    De holy water ran.

Mit moss-grown shticks und bark-thong
    De plessed cross ve made,
Und put it vhere de soldier's head
    Towards Germany vas laid.
Dat grave is lost mit dead leafs,
    De cross is goned afay:
Boot Gott will find der reiter
    Oopon de Youngest Day.

Und dinkin of de fightin,
    Und dinkin of de dead,
Und dinkin of de organ,
    To Nashville, Breitmann led
Boot long dat rough oldt Hanserl
    Vas earnsthaft, grim und kalt,
Shtill dinkin o'er de heart's friend,
    He'd left im gruenen wald.[23]

De verses of dis boem
    In Heidelberg I write;
De night is dark around me,
    De shtars apove are bright.
Studenten in den Gassen[24]
    Make singen many a song;
Ach Faderland! - wie bist du weit!
    Ach Zeit! - wie bist du lang![25]


BREITMANN IN KANSAS.[26]

VONCE oopon a dimes, goot vhile afder der var vas ofer, der Herr
Breitmann vent oud Vest, drafellin' apout like efery dings -
"circuivit terram et perambulavit eam," ash der Teufel said ven
dey ask him: "How vash you und how you has peen?"

    Von efenings he vas drafel mit some ladies und shendlemans, und he
shtaid incognitus.  Und dey singed songs, dill py und py one of
de ladies say: "Ish any podies here ash know de crate pallad of Hans
Breitmann's Barty?"  Den Hans say: "Ecce Gallus! I am dat
rooster!"  Den der Hans dook a trink und a let-bencil und a biece of
baper, und goes indo himself a little dimes und den coomes out again
mit dis boem:

Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas:
    He drafel fast und far;
He rided shoost drei dousand miles
    All in von rail-roat car.
He knowed foost rate how far he goed-
    He gounted all de vile,
Dere vash shoost one bottle of champagne,
    Dat bopped at efery mile.

Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas;
    I dell you vot, my poy,
You bet dey hat a pully dimes
    In crossin' Illinoy.
Dey speaked deir speaks to all de folk
    A shtandin' in de car;
Den ask dem in to dake a trink,
    Und corned em gans und gar.

Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas;
    By shings! dey did it prown.
When he got into Leafenvort,
    He found himself in town.
Dey dined him at de Blanter's House,
    More goot as man could dink;
Mit efery dings on eart' to eat,
    Und dwice as mooch to trink.

Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas;
    He vent it on de loud.
At Ellsvort, in de prairie land,
    He foundt a pully crowd.
He looked for bleedin' Kansas,
    But dat's "blayed out," dey say;
De vhiskey keg's de only ding
    Dat's bleedin' dere to-day.

Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas,
    To see vot he could hear.
He foundt soom Deutschers dat exisdt
    Py makin' lager beer.
Says he: "Wie gehts du Alt Gesell?"
    But nodings could be heard;
Dey'd growed so fat in Kansas
    Dat dey couldn't speak a vord.

Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas;
    Py shings! I dell you vot,
Von day he met a crisly bear
    Dat rooshed him down, bei Gott!
Boot der Breitmann took und bind der bear
    Und bleased him fery much-
For efery vordt der crisly growled
    Vas goot Bavarian Dutch!

Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas!
    By donder dat is so!
He ridet oout upon de blains
    To shase de boofalo.
He fired his rifle at de bools,
    Und gallop droo de shmoke,
Und shoomp de canyons shoost as if
    Der teufel vas a choke!

It's hey de trail to Santa Fe;
    It's ho! agross de plain;
It's lope along de Denver road,
    Until ve toorn again.
Und de railroad drafel after us
    Apout as quick as ve;
Dis Kansas ish de fastest land
    Ash efer I did see.

Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas;
    He have a pully dime;
But 'twas in old Missouri
    Dat dey rooshed him up subline.
Dey took him to der Bilot Nob,
    Und all der nobs around;
Dey shpreed him und dey tea'd him
    Dill dey roon him to de ground.

Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas,
    Und made his carpine pop!
Ven he shooted at a drifer man
    To make de wagon shdop.
A noble Tribune shendleman
    Shoost dodged dat pullet's bore,
Und de driver shwore dat soosh a crowd
    He nefer druv pefore.

Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas;
    Droo all dis earthly land,
A vorkin' out life's mission here
    Soobyectifly und grand.
Some beoplesh runs de beautiful,
    Some vorks philosophie;
Der Breitmann solfe de infinide
    Ash von eternal shpree!


HANS BREITMANN'S CHRISTMAS.

"Haec est illa bona dies
 Et vocata laeta quies
 Vina sitientibus.

"Nullus metus, nec labores,
 Nulla cura, nec dolores,
 Sint in hoc symposio."
        [De Generibus Ebriosorum, Francoforti
            ad Moenum, A.D. 1585.

ID vas on Weihnachtsabend - Vot Ghristmas Efe dey call-
Der Breitmann mit his Breitmen tid rent de Musik Hall;
Ash de Breitmen und die vomen who vere in de Liederkranz
Vouldt blend deir souls in harmonie to have a bleasin tantz.

Dey reefed de Hall 'mid pushes so nople to pe seen,
Aroundt Beethoven's buster dey dey on-did a garlandt creen:
De laties vork like teufels dwo tays to scroob de vloor
Und hanged a crate serenity mit WILLKOMM! oop de toor!

Und vhile dere vas a Schwein-blatt whose redakteur tid say,
Die Breitmann he vas liederlich: ve ant-worded dis-a way,
Ve maked anoder serenity mid ledders plue und red:
"Our Leader lick de repels! N.G." (enof gesaid.)

Und anoder serene dransbarency ve make de veller baint,
Boot de vay he potch und vertyfeled id, vas enof to shvear a saint,
For ve vanted LA GERMANIA; - boot der ardist mit a bloonder,
Vent und vlorished LAGER agross id - und denn poot MANIA oonder!

"Now ve moost pe guest-friendlich," said Breitmann, said he;
"Und shoot te toor vide oben, for beople all to see.
Four elemends indernally unided make a punsch;
Boot id dakes a tausend fellers vhen you gifes dem freie lunsch."

Und as Ghristmas Efe vas gekommen, de beoplesh weren im Hall;
I shvears you id vas Gott-full - dat shplendit, peglory'd ball;
Ve hat foon wie der Teufel in Frankreich - ve coot oop
        like der teufel in France,
Und valk pair-wise in, vhile de musik blayed loudt de Fackel-Tanz.

Boot vhen de valtz shtrike oopwart ve most went out of fits,
Ash der Breitmann led off on a dwister mit de lofely
        Helmine Schmitz.
He valtz yoost like he vas shtandin' shtill mit a
        peaudiful solemn shmile,
Und Helmine say he nefer shtop poussiren alla weil.

"Es toent, es rauschet Saitenklang - I hear de musik call
Den herzenhellen Saal entlang - all droo de gleamin' Hall.
O moecht ich schweben stolz und froh - O mighdt I efer pe
Mit dir durchs ganze Leben so! - mine Lebanlang py dee!"

Und vaster blay de musik de Wellen und Wogen von Strauss;
Und soom drop indo de tantzen, und soom of dem drop aus;
Und soon like a shtorm in de Meere I veel de reelin' vloor,
So de shpinners shtop mit de shpinsters, for dey couldn't
        shpin no more.

Now weren ve all frolic, und lauter guter ding,
Und dirsty ash a broosh-pinder - vhen ve hear some glasses ring;
Foors mild und sonft in de distants - like de song of
        a nightingall,
Denn a ringin' und rottlin und clotterin' - ash de Gluck
        of Edenhall?

Hei! how ve roosh on de liquor! - hei: how de kellners coom:
Hei! how ve busted de bier-kegs und poonished de Punsch a la Rhum.
Like lonely wafes at mitternight oopon some shiant shore-
Like an awful shtorm in de Waelder - vas de dirsty Deutschers' roar!

I pyed some carts for a dime abiece - I pyed shoost fifdy-dwo,
Dey vere goot for bier, or schnapps, or wein - by
        doonder how dey flew!
I ring de deck on de vaiters for liquor hot und cool,
Und efery dime I blays a cart, py shings, I rake de pool![27]

Und ash ve trinked so comforble, like boogs in any roog,
De trompets blowed tan da ra dei, und dere come in a Maskenzug,
A peaudiful brocession, soul-raisin' and sooplime,
De marmorbilds of de heroes of de early Sharman dime.

Dere vent der gros Arminius, mit his frau Thusnelda, doo,
De vellers ash lam de Romans dill dey roon mit noses plue;
Denn vollowed Quinctilius Varus who carry a Roman yoke,
Und arm in arm mit Gambrinus coom der Allemane Chroc.

Der Alte Friedrich Rothbart, und Kaiser Karl der crate,
Mit Roland und Uliverus vent shveepin' on in shtate;
Und Conradin, whose sad-full deat' shtill makes our heartsen pleed,
Und all ov dem oldt vellers aus dem Nibelungen Lied.

Und as dey mofed on, der Breitmann maked a tyfeled shplendid witz
In anti-word to dis quesdion from de lofely Mina Schmitz:
"Vhy ish id dey always makes in shtone dem vellers so andiquadet?"
"Vhy - dey set in de laps of Ages dill dey got lapi-dated!"

Und shoost as de last of dis hisdory hat fanished droo de door,
Ve heardt a ge-screech, and Pelz Nickel coom howlin' on de vloor;
Denn de laties yell like der teufel, und vly like gulls mit wings,
Und der Pelz Nickel lick em mit svitches, und ve
        laugh like eferydings.

I nefer hafe sooch laughen before dat I vas geborn;
Und Pelz Nickel, vhen 'tvas ober, he plow on a yaeger horn,
Und denounce do all de beople gesembled in de hall:
"Dat a Ghristmas dree vas vaiten', mit bresents for oos all!"

So ve vollowed him into de zimmer so quick ash dese vords he said,
To kit dem peaudiful bresents, all gratis und on de dead;
Und in facdt a shplendid Weihnachtsbaum mit lighds ve druly vound,
Und liddel kifts dat ge-kostet a benny abiece all round!

Dere vas Rike Strange die Dessauerinn - a maedchen
        shtraigdt und tall,
She cot a bicture of Cubid - boot she tidn't see it ad all,
Dill der Breitmann say, mit his shplendid shtyle dat
        all de laties dake:
"Dat pend of de bow ish de Crecian pend dat you so ofden make!"

Anoder scharmante laity, Maria Top, did cot,
A schwingin' mit a ribbon, a liddle benny pot;
Boot Breitmann hafe id de roughest of any oder mans,
For he kit a yellow gratle mit a liddle vooden Hans.

Denn next Beethoven's Sinfonie, die orkester tid blay;
Adagio - allegro - andante cantabile.
Ve sat in shtill commotion so dat a bin mighdt drops,
Und de deers roon town der Breitmann's sheeks,
        mitwhiles he was trinkin' schnapps.

Next dings ve had de Weinnachtstraum ge-sung by de Liederkranz,
Denn I trinked dwelf schoppens of glee-wine to sed
        me oop for a tantz;
Dis dimes I tanz wie der Teufel - we shriek de volk on de vloor;
Und boost right indo de sooper room - vor ve tanzt a
        hole droo de door!

Denn 'twas rowdy tow und hop-sassa, ve hollered,
        Mann und Weib;
"Rip Sam und sed her oop acain! - ve're all of de Shackdaw tribe!"
Vhen Pelz Nickel plow his tromp vonce more, und
        peg oos to shtop our din,
Und droo de oben door dere coomed nine den-pins marchin' in.

Nine vellers tressed like den-pins - dey goed to de end' der hall.
Und dwo Hans Wurst, shack-puddin' glowns - dey
        rolled at em mit a ball.
De balls vas paintet peaudiful; dey was vifdeen feet aroundt;
Und de rule ov de came: "whoefer cot hidt, moost
        doomple on de croundt."

Sometimes dey hit de den-pins - sometimes de oder volk-
Und pooty soon de gompany vas all laid out in shoke;
Boot I dells you vot, it maked oos laugh dill we by-nearly shplits,
Vhen der Breitmann he roll ofer, und drip oop de Mina Schmitz.

Dis lets itself in Sharman pe foost-rade word-blayed on,
Und 'mongst oos be-gifted vellers you pet dat id vas tone!
How der Breitmann mighdt drafel ash bride-man on
        de roadt dat ish breit und krumm:[28]
Here de drumpets soundt, and pair-wise ve goed for de sooper-room.

Ve goed for ge-roasted Welsh-hens, ve goed for ge-spickter hare,
Ve goed for kartoffel salade mit butter brod,-kaviar:
Ve roosh at de lordtly sauer-kraut und de wurst which lofely shine,
Und oh, mein Gott im Kimmel! how we goed for de Mosel-wein!

Und troonker more, und troonker yet, und troonker shtill cot ve,
In rosy lighdt shtill drivin on agross a fairy sea;
Denn madder, vilder, frantic-er, I proked a salat dish!
Und shoost like roarin' elefants ve tantzed aroundt de tish.

I'fe shvimmed in heafenly droonks pefore - boot nefer von like dis;
De morgen-het-ache only seemt a bortion of de pliss.
De vhile in trilling peauty roundt like heafenly vind-harps rang
A goosh of goldnen melodie - de Rheinweinbechers' Klang.

De meltin' minnesingers' song - a droonk of honey'd rhyme-
De b'wildrin-dipsy Bardic shants of Teutoburgic dime;
Back to de runic dim Valhall und Balder's foamin' mead:-
Here ents in heller glorie schein des Breitmann's Weihnachtslied!


BREITMANN ABOUT TOWN

DER SCHWACKENHAMMER coom to down,
    Pefore de Fall vas past,
Und by der Breitmann drawed he in
    Ash dreimals honored gast.
"Led's see de sighdts!  In self und worldt,-
    Dere's 'sighdts' for him, to see,
Who Selbstanschauungsvermogen hat,"
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vented to de Opera Haus,
    Und dere dey vound em blayin',
Of Offenbach (der open brook),
    His show spiel Belle Helene.
"Dere's Offenbach, - Sebastian Bach,-
    Mit Kaulbach, - dat makes dree:
I alvays like sooch brooks ash dese;"
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vented to de Bibliothek,
    Vhich Mishder Astor bilt:
Some pooks vere only en broschure,
    Und some vere pound und gilt.
"Dat makes de gold - dat makes de sinn,
    Mit pooks, ash men, ve see,
De pest tressed vellers guilt de most:"-
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vent to see an edidor,
    Who'd shanged his flag und doon,
Und crowed oopon der oder side,
    Dat very afdernoon.
"De anciends vorshipped wettercocks,
    To wetter fanes pent de knee;
Pow down, mein Schwackenhammer, pow!"
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vented by a panker's hause,
    Und Schwackenhammer shvore,
He only vant a pig red shield
    Hoong oop pefore de toor;
One side of red, one side of gold,
    Like de knighds in hisdorie-
"De schildern of dat schild is rich,"
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vent oonto a bicture sale.
    Of frames wort' many a cent,
De broperty of a shendleman,
    Who oonto Europe vent.
"Don't gry - he'll soon pe pack again
    Mit anoder gallerie:
He sells dem oud dwelf dimes a year,"
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vented to dis berson's house,
    To see his furnidure,
Sold oud at aucdion rite afay,
    Beremdory und sure.
"He geeps six houses all at vonce,
    Each veek a sale dere pe,
Gotts! vot a dime his vife moost hafe!"-
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vent to vind a goot cigar,
    Long dimes dey roamed apout,
Von veller had a pran new sort,
    De fery latest out
"Mein freund - I dinks you errs yourself
    De shmell ish oldt to me;
Dat Infamias Stinkadores brand,"-
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vented to de virst hotel,
    De prandy make dem creep,
A trop of id's enough to make
    A brazen monkey veep.
"Dey say a viner house ash dis,
    Vill soon ge-bildet pe,
Crate Gott! - vot can dey mean to trink?"
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vented droo de Irish shtreeds,
    Dey saw vrom haus to haus,
Und gountet oop, 'pout more or less,
    Vive hoondred awful rows.
"If all dese liddle vights dey waste,
    Could von crate pattle pe,
Gotts! how de Fenian funds vouldt rise!"
    Said Breitmann, said he.

Dey vent to see de Ridualisds,
    Who vorship Gott mit vlowers,
In hobes he'll lofe dem pack again,
    In winter among de showers.
"Vhen de Pacific railroat's done,
    Dis dings imbrofed vill pe,
De joss-sticks vill pe santal vood,"-
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vent to hear a breecher of
    De last sensadion shtyle,
'Twas 'nough to make der teufel weep
    To see his "awful shmile."
"Vot bities dat der Fechter ne'er
    Vas in Theologie,
Dey'd make him pishop in his shoorsh,"
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vent indo a shpordin' crib,
    De rowdies cloostered dick,
Dey ashk him dell dem vot o'glock,
    Und dat infernal quick.
Der Breitmann draw'd his 'volver oud,
    Ash gool ash gool couldt pe,
"Id's shoost a goin' to shdrike six,"
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vent polid'gal meedins next
    Dey hear dem rant and rail,
Der bresident vas a forger,
    Shoost bardoned oud of jail.
He does it oud of cratitood,
    To dem who set him vree:
"Id's Harmonie of Inderesds,"
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vent to a clairfoyand witch,
    A plack-eyed handsome maid,
She wahrsagt all deir vortunes - denn
    "Fife dollars, gents!" she said.
"Dese vitches are nod of dis eart',
    Und yed are on id, I see,
Der Shakesbeare knew de preed right vell,"
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vented to a restaurand,
    Der vaiter coot a dash;
He garfed a shicken in a vink,
    Und serfed id at a vlash.
"Dat shap knows vell shoost how to coot
    Und roon mit poulderie,
He vas copitain oonder Turchin vonce,"
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vented to de Voman's Righds,
    Vhere laties all agrees,
De gals should all pe voters,
    Und deir beaux all de votees.
"For efery man dat nefer vorks,
    Von frau should vranchised pe:
Dat ish de vay I solfe dis ding,"
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Dey vented oop, dey vented down,
    'Tvas like a roarin' rifer,
De sighds vere here - de sighds vere dere-
    Und de vorldt vent on forefer.
"De more ve trinks, de more ve sees,
    Dis vorldt a derwisch pe;
Das Werden's all von whirling droonk,"
    Said Breitemann, said he.


BREITMANN IN POLITICS.

I.

I.-THE NOMINATION

VHEN ash de var vas ober, und Beace her shnow-wice vings
Vas vafin' o'er de coondry (in shpodts) like efery dings
Und heroes vere revardtet, de beople all pegan
To say 'tvas shame dat nodings vas done for Breitemann.

No man wised how id vas shtartet, or vhere de fore shlog came,
Boot dey shveared it vas a cinder, dereto a purnin' shame:
"Dere is Schnitzerl in de Gustom-House -- potzblitz!
        can dis dings be!
Und Breitemann he hafe nodings: vot sighds is dis to see!

"Nod de virst ret cendt for Breitmann! ish dis do pe de gry
On de man dat sacked de repels und trinked dem high und dry?
By meine Seel' I shvears id, und vhat's more I deglares id's drue,
He vonce gleaned oudt a down in half an our, und
        shtripped id strumpf und shoe.

"Vhen dey ploondered de down of Huntsville, I dells
        you vot, py tam!
He burned oop four biano-fords and a harp to roast a ham;
Vhen he found de rouge und email de Paris, which de
        laties hafe hid in a shpot,
He whited his horse all ofer - und denn pinked his ears, bei Gott!

"Vhen he found dat a blace was ploonder-fool, he
        alvays tell dem, sure:
'Men, sack und pack! I shoots mine eyes for only shoost an uhr.'
Boot if de blace vas fery rich, he vouldt say mit a solemn mien:
'Men - I only shleep for von half uhr more - ve moost
        hafe tiscipline.'

"He vas shoost like Koenig Etzel, of whom de shdory dell,
Der Hun who go for de Romans und gife dem shinin hell:
Only dis dat dey say no grass vouldt crow vhere
        Etzel's horse had trot.
Und I really peliefe vhere Breitmann go, de hops
        shpring oop, bei Gott!"

If once you tie a dog loose, dere ish more soon geds aroundt,
Und vhen dis vas shtartedt on Breitmann id was
        rings aroom be-foundt;
Dough vhy he moost hafe somedings vas nod by no means glear,
Nor tid id, like Paulus' confersion, on de snap to all abbear!

Und, in facdt, Balthazar Bumchen saidt he couldtent
        nicht blainly see
Vhy a feller for gaddrin' riches shood dus revartedt pe:
Der Breitmann own drei Houser, mit a weinhandle in a stohr,
Dazu ein Lager-Wirthschaft, und sonst was - somedings more.

Dis plasted plackguard none-sense ve couldn't no means shtand
From a narrow-mineted shvine's kopf, of our nople captain grand:
Soosh low, goarse, betty bornirtheit a shentleman deplores;
So ve called him verfluchter Hundsfott, und shmysed
        him out of toors.

So ve all dissolfed dat Breitmann shouldt hafe a nomination
To go to de Legisladoor, to make some dings off de nation;
Mit de helb of a Connedigut man, in whom ve hafe great hobes,
Who hat shange his boledics fivdeen dimes, und
        derefore knew de robes.

2. - THE COMMITTEE OF INSTRUCTION.

Denn for our Insdructions Comedy de ding vas protocollirt,
By Docktor Emsig Grubler, who in Jena vonce studiret;
Und for Breitmann his insdrugtions de comedy tid say
Dat de All out-going from de Ones vash die first Moral Idee.

Und de segondt crate Moral Idee dat into him ve rings,
Vas dat government for every man moost alfays do efery dings;
Und die next Idee do vitch his mindt esbecially ve gall,
Is to do mitout a Bresident und no government ad all.

Und die fourt' Idee ve vish der Hans vouldt alfays keeb in fiew,
Ish to cooldifate die Peaudifool, likevise de Goot und Drue;
Und de form of dis oopright-hood in proctise to present,
He must get our liddle pills all bassed, mitout id's
        gostin' a cent.[29]

Und die fift' Idee - ash learnin' ish de cratest ding on eart',
Und ash Shoopider der Vater to Minerfa gife gebirt'-
Ve peg dat Breitmann oonto oos all pooplic tocuments
Vhich he can grap or shteal vill sendt - franked - mit
        his gompliments.

Die sechste crate Moral Idee - since id fery vell ish known
Dat mind is de resooldt of food, ash der Moleschott has shown,
Und ash mind ish de highest form of Gott, as in Fichte dot' abbear-
He moost alfays go mit de barty dat go for lagerbier.

Now ash all dese insdrugdions vere showed to Mishder Twine,
De Yangee boledician, he say dey vere fery fine:
Dey vere pesser ash goot, und almosdt nice - a tarnal tall concern;
Boot dey hafe some liddle trawbacks, und in fagdt
        weren't worth a dern.

Boot yet, mit our bermission, if de shentlemans allow-
Here all der Sharmans in de room dake off deir hats und pow-
He vouldt gife our honored gandidate some nodions of his own,
Hafing managed some elegdions mit sookcess, as vell vas known.

Let him plow id all his own vay, he'd pet as sure as born,
Dat our mann vouldt not coom oud of der liddle endt der horn,
Mit his goot proad Sharman shoulders - dis maket
        oos laugh, py shink!
So de comedy shtart for Breitmann's - Nota bene - after a trink!

3. - MR. TWINE EXPLAINS BEING "SOUND UPON THE GOOSE."

Dere in his crate corved oaken shtuhl der Breitemann sot he:
He lookt shoost like de shiant in de Kinder hishdorie:
Und pefore him, on de tische, was - vhere man alfays foundt it-
Dwelf inches of good lager, mit a Boemisch glass around it.

De foorst vordt dat der Breitmann spoke he maked no sbeech or sign!
De nexd remark vas "Zapfet aus!" - de dird vas, "Schenket ein!"
Vhen in commed liddle Gottlieb und Trina mit a shtock
Of allerbest Markgraefler wein - dazu dwelf glaeser Bock.

Denn Mishder Twine deglare dat he vas happy to denounce
Dat as Coptain Breitmann suited oos egsockdly do an ounce,
He vas ged de nomination, and need nod more eckshblain:
Der Breitmann dink in silence, and denn roar aloudt, CHAMPAGNE!

Denn Mishder Twine, while drinkin' wein, mitwhiles
        vent on do say,
Dat long instruckdions in dis age vere nod de dime of tay;
Und de only ding der Breitmann need to pe of any use
Vas shoost to dell to efery man he's soundt oopon der coose.

Und ash dis liddle frase berhops vas nod do oos bekannt,
He dakes de liberdy do make dat ve shall oonder-shtand,
And vouldt dell a liddle shdory vitch dook blace pefore de wars:
Here der Breitmann nod to Trina, und she bass aroundt cigars.

"Id ish a longe dime, now here, in Bennsylfanien's Shtate,
All in der down of Horrisburg dere rosed a vierce depate,
'Tween vamilies mit cooses, und dose vhere none vere foundt-
If cooses might, by common law, go squanderin' aroundt?

"Dose who vere nod pe-gifted mit cooses, und vere poor,
All shvear de law forbid dis crime, py shings und cerdain sure;
But de coose-holders teklare a coose greadt liberdy tid need,
And to pen dem oop vas gruel, und a mosdt oon-Christian teed.

"Und denn anoder barty idself tid soon refeal,
Of arisdograts who kepd no coose, pecause 'twas nod shendeel:
Tey tid not vish de splodderin' keese shouldt on deir
        pafemends bass,
So dey shoined de anti-coosers, or de oonder lower glass!"

Here Breitmann led his shdeam out: "Dis shdory goes to show
Dat in poledicks, ash lager, virtus in medio.
De drecks ish ad de pottom - de skoom floads high inteed;
Boot das bier ish in de mittle, says an goot old Sharman lied.[30]

"Und shoost apout elegdion-dimes de scoom und drecks, ve see,
Have a pully Wahl-verwandtschaft, or election-sympathie."
"Dis is very vine," says Mishder Twine, "Vot here you indrotuce:
Mit your bermission I'll grack on mit my shdory of de coose.

"A gandertate for sheriff de coose-beholders run
Who shvear de coose de noblest dings vot valk peneat' de sun;
For de cooses safe de Capidol in Rome long dimes ago,
Und Horrisburg need safin' mighty pad, ash all do know.[31]

"Acainsd dis mighdy Coose-man anoder veller rose,
Who keepedt himself ungommon shtill vhen oders came to plows;
Und if any ask how 'twas he shtoodt, his friendts
        wouldt vink so loose,
Und vhisper ash dey dapped deir nose: 'He's soundt oopon de coose!

"'He's O.K. oopon de soobject:[32] shoost pet your pile on dat:
On dis bartik'ler quesdion he indends to coot it fat.'
So de veller cot elegded pefore de beople foundt
On vhitch site of der coose it vas he shtick so awful soundt.

"Und efer in America, hencevorwart from dat day,
Ash mit de Native Mericans, de fashion vas to say-
Likes well in de Kansas droples - de shap who tid not refuse
To go mit beoples ash vanted him, vas soundt oopon der coose.

"Dis shdory's all I hafe to dell," says Mishder Hiram Twine;
"Und I advise Herr Breitmann shoost to vight id on dis line."
De volk who of dese boledics would oder shapders read,
Moost waiten for de segondt pardt of dis here Breitmann's Lied.

II.

4.-HOW BREITMANN AND SMITH WERE REPORTED TO BE LOG-ROLLING

ID hoppinet in de yar of crace, vhen all dese dings pegan,
Dat Mishder Schmit, de shap who rooned acainsd der Breitmann,
Vas a man who look like Mishder Twine so moosh dat beoples say
Dey pliefe dey moost ge-brudert pe - Gott weiss in vot a vay!

Und id vas also moosh be-marked - vhitch look shoost like a bruder-
Dat vhen Twine vas vork on any side der Schmit vas on der oder
A fery gommon dodge ish mit de arisdocracie;
So dat votefer cardt doorns op, id's game for de familie!

Nun, goot! Howefer dis might pe, 'tvas cerdain on dis hit
Der Twine vas do his tyfelest to euchre Mishder Schmit;
Und Schmit, I criefe to say, exglaimed: "Gaul darn me for a fool,
But I'll smash old Dutch to cholera fits and rake the
        eternal pool!"

So dey cot some liddle ledders, ash brifate ash could pe,
Vhitch Breitmann writed long agone to friendts in Germany;
Und dey brinted dem in efery vay to make de beoples laugh,
Und comment on dem in de shtyle dat "sports" call "slasher-gaff."

Dere-to - as vash known py shoodshment und glearly ascertained,
Dat Breitmann hafe lossed money py a valse und schwindlin' friendt-
So dey roon it droo de newsbapers, und shbeech to make pegan,
Dat Breitmann shtole de gelt himself und rop de oder man.[33]

Boot de ding dat jam de hardest on de men dat bull de vires,
Und showed that Copitain Breitmann shtood pedween dwo heafy vires,
Vas, pecause he vas a soldier - von could see id at a clanse-
Dey had pud him in a tisdrigt vhere he hadn't half a shanse.

For ash de pold solidaten ish more prafe ash oder mans,
Dey moost lead de hope verloren und pattle in de vans;
Und ash defeat ish honoraple to men in honor shtrict,
Dey honor dem py puttin' em vhere dey're cerdain to be licked.

Boot dis dimes it shlopped over.  'Tvas de dird or secondt heat,
Dat a soldier in dis tisdrigt had been poot oop und beat;
So de Plue Goats dink it over und go quietly to vork:
De bow vhen too moosh aufgespannt vlies packward mit a yerk.

Now Mishder Twine deglaret dat de ding seemed doubtenful,
Boot mitout delay he dook de horns so poldly py de bull,
Und shpread de shdory eferyvhere, dill folk to pliefe pecan,
Dat Mishder Schmit had sold de vight unto der Breitemann!

He fix de liddle tedails - how moosh der Schmit hafe got
For sellin' out his barty to let Breitmann haul de pot;
Und he showed a brifate letter from Breitemann to Schmit,
Vhere he bromise him for Congress if he shoost let oop a bit.

Der Twine vas writet dis ledder; for der Copitain Breitemann
Vould nefer hafe shtood soosh hoompoogks since virst
    his life pegan:
He hat tone some rough dings in de war, in de
        ploonder-und-morder line,
Boot vas hoockleperry-persimmoned mit dese boledics of Twine.

Howefer, dis ledder vorket foorst-rate - mit de
        Mericans pest of all,
For dey mostly dinked it de naturalest ding as efer couldt pefall;
For to sheat von's own gonstituents ish de pest mofe in de came,
Und dey nefer sooposed a Dootchman hafe de sense to do de same.

------------------

5.-HOW THEY HELD THE MASS MEETING.

Dere's nodings in dis vorldt so pad, ash all oov us may learn,
Boot may shange from dark to lighthood, if loock
        should dake a doorn;
So it hoppinet mit Breitmann, who in spite of sin and Schmit,
Gontrifed ad shoost dis yooncture do make a glucky hit.

Dey hat sendet out some plackarts to de Deutsche burgers all
(N.B. - Dish ish not mean blackguards, boot de pills
        dey shtick on de vall),
To say dat a Massenversammlung - or a meeding of all dem asses-
Vouldt be held in de Arbeiter-Halle, to consisd of de
        Sharman classes.

Now dey gife de brinting of de pills to a new gekommene man,
Who dinked dat Demokratisch vas de same ash Repooblican:
Got im Himmel weiss vhere he'd hid himself on dis
        free Coloompian shore
Dat he scaped de naturalizationisds, und hand't found out pefore.

Boot to dis Deutsche brinter, de only tifference he
Petween Repooplicanish and Demokratisch tid see,
Vas dat von vash dwo ledders longer; so he dook
        shoost vot seem pat
To make de poster handsome - likewise a liddle fat.

How ofden in dis buzzlin' life shmall grubs grows oop to vings!
How often shoost from moostard seet a virst-glass
        pusiness shprings!
Van't klein komt men tot't groote, ash de Hollanders hafe said:
Mit dese dwo ledders Breitmann caved in der Schmitsy's head.

----------------

6.-BREITMANN'S GREAT SPEECH.

Dis tale dat Schmit hafe sell de vight cot so mooch put apout,
Dat many of his beoples vere in fery tupious toubt;
'Pove all, dose who were on de make, and easy change deir lodge,
Und, pein awfool smart demselfs, pelieve in efery dodge.

Vhen de meeding vas gesempled, und dey found no Schmit vas dere,
Dey looket at von anoder mit a ganz erstaunished air;
But dey saw it glear as taylighd, und around a vink dere ran,
Vhen pefore dem rose de shiant form of Copitain Breitemann!

Denn Breitemann vent los at dem: "He could nichts vell exbress
De rapdure dat besqueezed his hearts - de wonnevol hoppiness-
To meed in friendtlich council and glasp de hand of dose,
Who had peen mit most oonreason and unkindly galled his foes.

"Berhaps o'er all dis shmilin' eart' - he vould say it
        dere un denn-
Soosh shpecdagles couldt nod pe seen of soosh imbardial men,
So tefoid of base sospicion, so apofe all betty dricks,
Ash to gome und lisden vairly to a voe in poledicks;

"Dat ish to say, a so-galled voe - for he feeled id in his soul
Dat de brinciples vitch mofed dem vere de same oopon de whole;
But he lack a vord to exbress dem in manners opportunes"-
Here a veller in de gallery gry oud, oonkindly, "Shpoons!"

Und dere der Breitmann goppled him: "If shpoons our modifes pe.
Dere's nod a man pefore oos who lossed a shpoon by me:
Far rader had I gife you all a shpoons to eaten mit,
Und I hope to ged a ladle for mein friendt, der Mishder Schmit."

Dis fetch das Haus like doonder - it raise der tyfel's dust,
Und for sefen-lefen minudes dey ooplouded on a bust;
Und de chaps dat dinked of hedgin' saw a ring as round as O;
So dey boked each oder in de rips und said, "I dold you so!"

For dis d'lusion to de ladle vas as glear ash city milk,
Und drawd it on de beoples so vine ash flossen silk,
Dat Hans und Schmit vere rollin' locks, und de locks
        vere ready cut;
Only Breitmann hafe de liddle end, und Schmitsy dake de butt!

Denn Breitmann he crack onward: "If any 'lightened man
Vill seeken in his Bibel, he'll find dat a publican
Is a barty ash sells lager; und de ding is fery blain,
Dat a re-publican ish von who sells id 'gain und 'gain.

"Now since dat I sells lager, I gant agreen mit
De demprance brinciples I hear dishtriputet to Schmit;
Boot dis I dells you vairly, und no one to teseife-
If I were Schmit, I'd pliefen shoost vot der Schmit peliefe.

"And to mine Sharman liperal friendts I might mention in dis shpot,
Dat I hear an oonfoundet rumor dat der Schmit peliefe in Gott;
Und also dat he coes to shoorsh - mit a brayer-book -
        for salfadion:
I vould not for die welt say dings to hoort his repudation.

"Und noding is more likely dat it all a shlander pe,
So also de rumor dat vhen young he shtoody divinidy:
I myself, ash a publican, moost pe a sinner py fate,
Und in dis sense I denounce mineself ash Republican-didate!

"Ash Deutschers say - und Yankees doo - vhen der
        wein ish in der man,
So ish oopon de oder part, de wise-hood in de can,
Vhitch brofes dat wein und wise-hood ish all de same, py shinks!
Und de only real can-didate ish der veller ash coes for trinks:

"Und dat ve may meed in gommon, I deglare here in dis hall-
Und I shvears mineself to holt to it, votefer may pefall-
Dat any man who gifes me his fote - votefer his boledics pe-
Shall alfays pe regartet ash bolidigal friendt py me."

(Dis voonderfol Condescension pring down drementous applause,
Und dose who catch de nodion gife most derriple hooraws:
Eshbecially some Amerigans ash vas shtandin' near de door,
Und who in all deir leben long nefer heard so moosh sense pefore.)

"Dese ish de brinciples I holts, and dose in vitch I run:
Dey ish fixed firm und immutaple ash de course of de 'ternal sun:
Boot if you ton't approve of dem - blease nodice vot I say-
I shall only pe too happy to alder dem right afay.

"Und undo my Demogratic friendts I vould fery glearly shtate-
Since dis useless mit oop-gecleared minds to hold a long depate-
Dat dere's no man in de cidy who sells besser liquor ash I,
Und I shtand de treadts free-gradis vhenefer mine friendts ish try.

"Ad finem - in de ende - I moost mendion do you all,
Dat a dootzen parrels of lager bier ish a-gomin' to dis hall:
Dere ish none of mine own barty here, bot we'll do
        mitout deir helfs;
Und I kess, on de whole, 'twill pe shoost so goot if ve
        trink it all ourselfs."

Soosh drementous up-loudation pefore vas nefer seen,
Ash dey svored dat der Copitain Breitmann vas a
        brickpat, und no sardine;[34]
Und dey trinked demselfs besoffen, sayin', "Hobe you
        wird sookceed!"-
De nexter theil will pe de ent of dis historisch lied.

III.

PARDT DE VIRST.

THE AUTHOR ASSERTS THE VAST INTELLECTUAL
SUPERIORITY OF GERMANS TO AMERICANS.

DERE'S a liddle fact in hishdory vitch few hafe oondershtand,
Deutschers are, de jure, de owners of dis land,
Und I brides mineslf oonshpeak-barly dat I foorst make be-known,
De primordial cause dat Columbus vas derivet from Cologne.

For ash his name vas Colon, it fisiply does shine,
Dat his Eldern are geboren been in Cologne on der Rhein,
Und Colonia peing a colony, it sehr bemerkbar ist,
Dat Columbus in America was der firster colonist.

Und ash Columbus ish a tove, id ish wort' de drople to mark,
Dat an bidgeon foorst tiscofer land a-vlyin' from de ark;
Und shtill wider - in de peginnin', mitout de leastest toubt,
A tofe vas vly ofer de wassers und pring de vorldt herout.

Ash mein goot oldt teacher der Kreutzer to me tid ofden shbeak,
De mythus of name rebeats itself - vhitch see in his "Symbolik,"
So also de name America, if we a liddle look,
Vas coom from der oldt king Emerich in de Deutsche Heldenbuch.

Und id vas from dat fery Heldenbuch - how voonderful it ron,
Dat I shdole de Song of Hildebrand, or der Vater und der Sohn,
Und dishtripude it to Breitemann for a reason vhitch now ish plain,
Dat dis Sagen Cyclus full-endet, pring me round to der Hans again.

Dese laws of un-endly un-windoong ish so teep and broad and tall,
Dat nopody boot a Deutscher hafe a het to versteh dem at all,
Und should I write mine dinks all out, I tont peliefe inteed,
Dat I mineslf vould versteh de half of dis here Breitmann's Lied.

Ash der Hegel say of his system - dat only von mans knew,
Vot der tyfel id meant - und he couldn't tell - und der
        Jean Paul Richter, too,
Who saidt: "Gott knows I meant somedings vhen
        foorst dis buch I writ,
Boot Gott only wise vot das buch means now - for I
        hafe fergotten it!"

Und all of dis be-wises so blain ash de face on your nose,
Dat der Deutscher hafe efen more intellects dan he himself soopose,
Und his tifference mit de over-again vorldt, as I really
        do soospect,
Ish dat oder volk hafe more soopose - und lesser intellect.

Yet oop-righty I confess it - mitout ashkin' vhy or vhence,
Dere ish also dimes vhen Amerigans hafe shown sharp-pointet sense,
Und a fery outsigned exemple of genius in dis line,
Vas dishblayed in dis elegdion py Mishder Hiram Twine.

-------------------

PARDT DE SECONDT.

SHOWING HOW MR. HIRAM TWINE "PLAYED OFF" ON SMITH.[35]

Vide licet.  Dere vas a fillage whose vote alone vouldt pe
Apout enof to elegdt a man und give a mayority,
So de von who couldt "scoop" dis seddlement vouldt
        make a lucky hit,
But dough dey vere Deutschers, von und all, dey all
        go von on Schmit.

Now id hoppinet to gome to bass, dat in dis little town,
De Deutsch vas all exshpegdin' dat Mishder Schmit coom down,
His brinciples to foresetzen und his idees to deach-
(Id est, fix oop de brifate pargains) - und telifer a
        pooplic shbeech.

Now Twine vas a gyrotwistive cuss ash blainly ish peen shown,
Und vas always an out-findin' votefer might pe known,
Und mit some of his circumswindles he fix de matter so,
Dat he'd pe himself at dis meeding, und see how dings vas go.

Oh shdrangely in dis leben de dings kits vorked apout,
Oh voonderly Fortuna makes doorn us inside out.
Oh sinkular de loock-vheel rolls - dis liddle meeding dere,
Fixt Twine ad perpendiculum: - shoosh suit him to a hair.

Now it hopponet on dis efenin', de Deutschers von und all,
Vere erwaitin' mit oonpatience de onfang of de Ball,
Und de shates of nighdt vere fallin' und de shdars pegin to plink,
Und dey vish dat Schmit vouldt hoory, for 'twas dime
        to dake a trink.

Dey hear some hoofs a dramplin' - und dey saw und
        dinked dey know'd,
De bretty greature coomin' on his horse entlang de road,
Und ash he ride town invard de likeness vas so blain,
Dey donnered out "Hoora for Schmit!" enof to make it rain.

Der Twine vas shdart like plazes - boot oop shdardet too his vit,
Und he dinks, "Great turnips! - vhot if I couldt bass
        for Colonel Schmit!
Gaul darn my heels I'll do it - and go the total swine,
Oh soap balls! - what a chance!" said dis dissembulatin' Twine.

Denn'twas "Willkomm! willkomm! Mishder Schmit!"
        rings aroom on efery site,
Und "First-rate - how dy do, yourself?" der Hiram Twine replied,
Dey ashk him "Coom und dake a trink" - boot dey
        find id mighdy gueer,
Vhen Twine informed em none boot hogs vould
        trink dat shtinkin' bier.

Dat lager vas nodings boot boison, und as for Sharman wein,
He dinks it vas erfounden exbressly for Sharman schwein,
Dat he himself was a demperanceler, dat he gloria in de name,
Und adfised dem all for tecence's sake to go und do de same.

Dese bemarks, among de Deutschers, vere apout as vell receife,
Ash cats in a game of den-pins - ash you may of coorse peliefe,
De heats of de recebtion vent down a dootzen degrees,
Und in blace of hurraws was only heardt de roostlin' of de drees.

Und so in solemn stille dey scorched him to de hall,
Vhere he maket de crate oradion vhitch vas so moosh
        to blease dem all,
Und dis vay he pegin it: "Pefore I furder go,
I vish dat my obinions, you puddin-het Dutch, shouldt know.

"Und eher I norate furder, I dink it only fair,
Ve shouldt oonderstand each oder, prezackly, chunk and square;
Dere are points on vitch ve tisagree, und I will plank de facts-
I tont go round slanganderin' my friendts pehind deir packs.

"So I beg you dake it easy, if on de raw I touch,
Vhen I say I can't apide de sound of your groonting
        shishing Dootch,
Should I in de Legisladure as your slumgullion stand,
I'll have a bill forbidding Dutch, droo all dis 'versal land.

"Should a husband talk it to his frau, to deat' he should pe led,
If a mutter breat' it to her shild, I'd bunch her in de head;
Und I'm sure dat none vill atvocate id's use in pooplic schools,
Oonless dey're peastly, nashdy, prutal, saur-kraut eadin' fools."

Here Mishder Twine, to gadder breat', shoost make a liddle pause,
Und see sechs hundert gapin' eyes - sechs hundert shdaring' chaws!
Dey shtanden erstarrt like frozen - von faindly dried to hiss:-
Und von saidt: "Ish id shleeps I'm treamin' -
        Gottstausend! - vhot ish dis?

Twine keptet von eye on de vindow, - boot boldly vent ahet,
"Of your oder shtinkin' hobits no vordt needt here pe set;
Shdop goozlin' bier - shdop shmokin' bipes - shdop rootin'
        in de mire,
Und shoost un-Dutchify yourselfs! - dat's all dat I require."

Und denn dere coomed a shindy ash if de shky hat trop:
"Trow him mit ecks, py doonder! - go - shlog him on de kop!
Hei! shoot him mit a powie-knifes! - go for him, ganz and gar!
Shoost tar him mit some fedders! - led's fedder him mit tar!"

Sooch a teufel's row of furie vas nefer oopkicket pefore,-
Some roosh to on-climb de blatform, - some hoory
        to festen de toor,-
Von veller vired his refolfer - boot de pullet missed her mark,
She coot de cort of de shandelier - it vell - und de hall vas tark!

Oh vell vas it for Hiram Twine dat nimply he couldt shoomp!
Und vell dat he light on a mist-hauf und nefer feel de boomp!
Und vell for him dat his coot cray horse shtood sottelet
        shoost outside!
Und vell dat in an augenblick he vas off on a teufel's ride!

Bang! bang! de sharp pistolen shots vent pipin' py his ear,
Boot he tortled oop de barrick road like any moundain deer,
Dey trowed der Hiram Twine mit shteins - boot dey
        only could be-mark
Von climpse of his vhite ober-coat - und a clotterin'
        droo de dark.

So dey gesempeled togeder, ein ander to sprechen mit,
Und allow dat soosh a Rede dey nefer exshpegt from Schmit!
Dat he vas a foorst-glass plackguard, und so pig a lump ash ran,
So - nemine contradicente - dey vented for Breitemann.

Und 'twas annerthalb yar dere after before de Schmit vas know,
Vhat maket dis rural fillage go pack oopon him so,
Und he schwored at de Dutch more schlimmer ash
        Hiram Twine had done,-
Note bene: he tid it in earnest, while der Hiram's vas
        pusiness-fun.

Boot vhen Breitmann heardt de shtory how de fillage
        hat been dricked,
He schwore bei Leib und Leben, dat he'd rader hafe peen licked,
Dan be helpet droo sooch slumgoozlin', - und 'twas
        petter to pe a schwein,
Dan a schvindlin', honeyfooglin' shnake, like dat lyin'
        Yankee Twine.

Und pegot so heavy disgootet mit de boledics of dis land,
Dat his friendts could barely keep him from trowin' oop his hand,
Vhen he held shtraight-flush mit an ace in his poot-
        vitch phrase ish all de same,
In de science of pokerology, ash if he got de game.

So Breitmann cot elegdet, py vollowin' de vay,
Ve manage our elegdions oonto dis fery day.
Dis shows de Deutch Dummehrlichkeit - also de Yankee "wit:"-
Das ist das abenteuer how Breitmann lick der Schmit.


BREITMANN AS AN UHLAN.

"Bjo foeri ek ther,
Brynthings apaldr!
Magni blandinn
Ok magentiri,
Fullr er hann ljoda."
            -Sigrdrifurnal

"Beer I bear to thee,
Battle's great apple-tree!
Mingled with might
And with bright glory,
All full of song."
            -The Edda.

-----

I.

THE VISION.

    "Dere vas vonce oopon a dimes a Frantchman who asket if a Sharman
could hafe esprit.  Allowin for his pad shbellin, de reater will
find dat der Herr Breitmann was hafe a spree goot many dimes.  You
gant ged rount de Dootch." - FRITZ SWACKENHAMMER.

GOTTS blitz! blau Feuer, potz bomben Tod!
Vot shimmers in de mitnacht roth?
Like hell-shtrom boorst o'er heafen's plain,
Trowin dead light on eart acain:-
Ja! - wide im nord om Odin shtone
Lies a shiant form im glare alone.
Troonk py de eis-kalt roarin shdream
Der Hans ish hafe ein wunder tream.

Troonk om haunted Odinstein
Im Hexenlicht und Elfenschein
Vhere blooty Druids omens trew
From grin und screech of shaps dey slew;
Or vhere der Norseman long of yore
Vas carven eagles on de shore,
As o'er him yell de Valkyr broot
Und crows valk round knee teep im ploot,
Vhile rabens schkreem o'er ruddy bay;
Dere - ten pottles troonk - Hans Breitmann lay.

Fast und rof der war-man shnore
Like de hammer-shlog of Thor,
Schnell ash Mjollner's bang und beat
Heaved de form from het to veet
Vhile apofe him in de shkies
Dere he saw a glorie rise,
Und im mittle von it all
De iron lords of crate Valhall.

Long he gaze mit wolfen glare
At de Aesir in de air,
Long mit schneerin baren grin
He toorn his nase auf und hin
(For ne'er a Sherman - tam de otts-
Vas efer yet gife in to Gotts),
Dill avery Aes owned oop dat he
A gott-like man of brass moost pe.

Shtern der Breitmann raise his het,
To his fader Gotts he set:
"Let your worts of wisehood shlip;
Rush your runes, und let 'em rip!
For you de gotts hafe efer pe
Of dose who vere ash gotts to me:-
Alt Thor der Thoren here pelow-
Vot hell you vants,[36] I'd like to know?"

Antworded ash de donner clangs,
Der fader of de iron bangs:
"De gotts will let de hell-dogs go,
Und raise damnation here pelow;
Until de sassy Frenchmen schmell
De rifers ten dat roon troo hell
To telle dis I comme dence,
Dou lord of lion impudence.

"Drafeller! I know dee vell!
Breitmann improturbable!
Vhen on eart I hat my shy,
Breitmann of dat age vas I.
I schwear py Thor! so crate und gay,
I smashed de Jotuns in my tay,
Und dou shall pe ge-writ sooplime
Ash de crate Thor of deiner time.

"Now ve lets de eagles vly
Skreemin troo de vlamin shky,
Our own specials: - dare nod laugh;
For in de London Telegraph,
A voondrous poy vot make oos shdare,
For hop vhat may, he's alvays dere!
Vill dell de worlt, troo blut and flame,
Hans Breitmann ist der Uhlan's name.

"Und all dou e'er on eart has done,
From oop gang oontil settin sun,
Vill pe ash nix - I schvear py Thor!
To vat dou'lt do in dieser war;
Plazin roofs und mordered men,
Hell set loose on eart again;
Rush und ride in shtorm und floot,
Cannon roarin, pools of bloot;
Deutschland mad in fool career,
Led py dy Uhlanen speer,
Hell's harfest - sheafs of fictorie,
Reaped mit deat's sword und reapt by dee!

"Ja!  On many a dorf und disch,
Dou shalt pring a requisish;[37]
Dwendy dimes de Frantscher men
Hafe sporned dy land in blut acain-
All dose dwenty dimes in von,
Py Deutschland shall to France pe done,
Und dwenty dimes in blut and wein
Shalst dou refenge de Palatine.

"Go! - mit shpeer und fiery muth!
Go! - mit durst for bier und blut!
Go! - mit lofe for Vaterland,
Into burning fury fanned:
Towns und hen-roosts shall hafe shown
Vhere der Uhlan ist peen gone,
Und cocks vill roon und men crow tame
To hear of der Uhlanen name."

Der fision fadet in de shky,
Und hours vent on und time goed py.
Vot heardest dou, Napolium?
De rumpitty, rumpitty, rumpitty poom!
Ven you hear de sound of de droom,
Oh denn you know dat de Dootch hafe coom,
De treadful roarin Dootch, mit de droom
Und de roompitty, pumpitty, poompity pum!
De wild ferocious Dootch on a bum,
Mit cannon roar und pattle hum,
Mit fee und faw on de foe und fum!
Led py de awful Breitemum!
        Bitty boom!! BOOM!!

II.

BREITMANN IN A BALLOON.

WHO vas efer hear soosh voonders,
    Holy breest or virshin nonn?
As pefelled de Coptain Breitmann,
    Vhen he hoont an air-ballon.
Der Bizzy[38] und der Dizzy,[39]
    Mit lothairingen und Lothair,
Vas nodings to dis Deutscher,
    Who vent kitin troo de air.

Id was in yar Nofember,
    In eighdeen sefendee,
Der Breitmann vent a prowlin,
    By monden light vent he.
In fillages deserted
    He hear de Uhu moan;
For you alvays hear der Uhu[40]
    Vhere der Uhu-lan ish gone.

Alone allonsed[41] der Uhlan,
    Boot nodings could he find
Safe whitey clouds a drivin
    In moonshine fore de wind.
Boot ash he see dese cloudins
    He bemark dat von vas round,
Und inshtead of goin oopwarts
    It kep risin towards de ground.

"Oh, vot ish dis a gomin?
    Some planet, py de Lord!
Too boor to life in heafen,
    Coom down on eart to poard;
Und pelow it schwing tree engels-
    Two he-vons mit a wench.
Boot, mein Gott! vot sort of engels
    Can dose pe, dalkin Fraentsch!

"I hafe read in Eckhartshausen
    Dat oop in heafen - py tam!
De engels dalk in Sherman,
    Und sing Mardin Luther's psalm.
O nein - es sind kein engeln
    Vot sail so smoofly on,
Das sind verfluchte Franzosen
    In einem luft-ballon!"[42]

Hei! how der Breitman streak it
    Ven vonce he kess de trut'!
He spurred id like de wild fire
    Of hope in early yout'.
Troo de weingarts like der teufel
    Vhen he shase a lawyer's soul;
Down der moundain mit his lanze
    Und his wafin banderol.

Down de moundain, o'er de valley,
    Troo de village he ish gone;
Dog-barks die out pehind him,
    Oders bark ash he come on.
Liddle heedet he deir bellin,
    Liddle mind der Hahnen crow;
Liddle hear der Bauern yellin,
    Clotter, clodder, on he go.

"Oh, vot ish hoontin foxen,
    Und vot ish yager pliss,
Und vot ish shasin bison
    On de blains, to soosh ash dis?
I hafe dinked dat roonin rebels
    Vas de best of eartly fun;
Boot id isn't half so sholly
    Ash to go a luft-ballon."

Und ash id shdill vent onwart,
    Shdill onwarts mit der wind,
Der coom a real madness
    To catch id, o'er his mind.
Und had'st dou seen him vylin,
    Dat wild onfuriate brick,
Dou'st hafe schworn dat Coptain Breitmann
    Was pecome balloonatic.

In fain dey trow deir sand-bags,
    In fain all dings let fall,
De ballon shdill kep a sinkin,
    Und id vouldn't rise at all.
Yet de wild wind trife id onwarts,
    Onwarts shdill der Breitmann go,
Dill he cotch id py a rope-ent
    Vot vas hangin town pelow.

Boot vhen it risen oopwarts,
    Ash he cling to id, of corse,
Mit de lefter hand he holtet
    To de pridle of his horse.
Der horse valk on his hind-legs:
    Too schwer to rise vas he;
Mein Gott! vot fix for Breitmann
    Of de Uhlan cavallrie!

So he go for seferal stunden
    Petween himmel und eart pelow,
Boot der teufel und die engels
    Couldn't make der Hans let go.
Dill all at vonce an idee
    Coom from his loocky shtar-
He led co his horse's pridle
    Und glimb oop indo de car.

Und vot you dinks he foundet
    Vhen in dat air-ballon?
A nople Englisch vicomte,
    Milord de Robinson;
Und mit him vas a laity,
    Mit whom he'd rooned afay,
Whom he indroduce to Breitmann
    Ash die Jungfer Salome.

Und der dritte was a barson,
    Whom Milord, mit prudent view,
Hat took als secretaire,
    Likevise for pallast doo.
Dey should hafe bitched him ofer
    Vhen de gas was out, dey say;
Boot de dame vould not 'low it:-
    She'd an arriere pensee.

Sait Milord: "Afar we've wandered,
    We are completely brown;
And I'll give a thousand shiners
    If you'll take me to a town
Where no one will molest us
    Till we find our way to Lon--"
Here der Breitmann ent de sentence
    Ash he gry out, shortly, "done."

"And as for this fair lady
    To whom I would be bound,"
Sait Milord, "we'll have a wedding
    Before we reach the ground.
To escape her father's anger
    We fled to live in peace,
But she's relatives in London,
    And they have - the police."

O vas not dis a voonders
    To make de Captain shdare?-
A tausend pounds in bocket
    Und a veddin in de air?
He gafe avay de laity,
    Und als sie wieder kam
Zur festen Erde wieder,
    Ward sie Robinson Madame.[43]

"O go mit me," said Breitmann,
    "O go in mein Quartier!
Don't mind dem gommon soldiers,
    For I'm an officier."
He guide dem troo de coontry
    Till dey reach de ocean strand;
Now dey sit und pless Hans Breitmann,
    In de far-off English land.

Dis ish Breitmann's last adfenture
    How troo Himmel air flew he:
Und it's dime, oh nople reader!
    For a dime to part from dee.
Dou may'st dake it all in earnest
    Or pelieve id's only fon;
Boot dere's woonder dings has hoppent
    Fery oft in Luft-ballon.
III.

BREITMANN AND BOUILLI.

"Tres estime ami, - Ick seyn nock nit verdorb,
Vielleickt Sie denck wohl kar, das ick sey tod gestorb,
Ock ne Kott loben Danck, ick leb nock kanss wohl auf.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Naturlich wie Kespenst die off die Kasse keh."
                    - Deutsch-Franzos, Leipzig, 1736.

Vot roombles down de Bergstrass?
    Vot a grash ish in de air!
Mit a desberate gonfusion,
    Und a gry of wild tespair,
Das sind gethrasht Franzosen,[44]
    Und dose who after flee
Are de terror of Champagner,
    Die Uhlan cavallrie.

So liddle say die hoonted,
    De hoonters lesser shdill;
Der Frank is ride for's leben,
    Der Deutscher rides to kill.
Ofer dickly-doosty faces
    Deir eyes like wild-katzs glare;
De blut und iron ridin
    Of furie und despair.

Boot of all de wild Uhlanen,
    Der Breitmann ride de pest;
For he mark de Frantsch gommanter
    Ish most elegandtly tresst.
Und ash he coom down on him,
    Dere's a deat' look in his eye:
"Gotts! if I carfe dat toorkey,
    How I'll make de stoofin vly!"

Mit a clotter und a flotter
    Like a hell-sturm dey are on:
Mit a rottle to de pattle
    Coom de Deutschers, knockin' down,
Down de moundain to a brucke-
    Vhy die Frantschmen toorn ad bay?
Oder Deutsch were dere pefore dem,
    Und die pridge ish coot avay!

Von second der Franzose
    Look down mit blitzen eye;
Von second at de brucke,
    Den toorn him round to die.
Vhile mit out-ge-poke-te lanze,
    Like ter teufel shot from hell,
Rode der ploonder-shtarvin Breitmann
    On der grau-bart Colonel.

Vot for der Coptain Breitmann
    Ish shdop in his career?
Vot for he pool his pridle?
    Vot for let down his speer?
Vot for his eyes like saucers
    Grow pigger, rimmed mit staub?
Vot for his hair, a pristlin,
    Lift oop his pickel-haub?[45]

So awfool - so oneart'ly,
    So treadful was his glare,
So unbeschreiblich gastly,
    Dat der Colonel self was shkare.
Oop come der Breitmann ridin,
    Und mit gratin force he said:
"Bist - du - wirkelich - lebendig?[46]
    Can de grafe gife oop its tead?

"Dou livest yet - dou breaf'st yet,
    Dough oldter now you pe
Since I mordered you in Strasburg,
    Mein freund - mon Jean Bouilli.
We lofed de selfe maiden
    Wohl forty years agone:-
She died to hear I kilt you:-
    Jean - how weiss your beard ish grown!

"I would gife my Hab' und Guter,[47]
    Dereto mein bit of life
Couldt I pring dat shild to leben,
    Und make her, Jean, dy wife!"
Here der Breitmann boorst out gryin,
    Like a liddle prook vept he;
Und dey hugged and gissed einander,
    Der Breitmann und Bouilli.

"Ach, de efils dat from efil
    Troo a life ish efer grow!
Had I nefer dink I killed you,
    Many a man were livin now-
Many a man dat shleeps in cane-brakes,
    Many a man py pillow-shore;
For dy morder mate me reckelos,
    Und von tead man gries for more!

"O Madchen! schon im Himmel![48]
    (Warst schon on eart' difine)-
Can'st dink among de Engeln
    Of soosh as me und mine?
Den look on soosh a Reue,
    Ash eart' has nefer known:-
Whereto hast dou a sabre?
    Wherefore not kill me, Jean?"

"O, ne pleurez pas, mon Breitmann!
    Je trouve cela trop fort,"
Gry der Colonel sehr politely;
    "How! - you crois dat I was mort!
Mon Dieu!  'Tis but one minute,
    As we galloped to this plain,
I thought your spear, mon gaillard,
    Would kill me o'er again.

Je vous fais mon compliment,
    Your tendresse becomes you well;
Et ne pleurez pas, mon brave,
    Pour la petite demoiselle.
I have had a thousand since;
    One can always find such game;
Et pour dire la verite,
    I have quite forgot her name."

Der Breitmann lok so earnest,
    Long and earnest at his foe,
Ash if seein troo his augen
    To de forty years ago.
Mit vot a shmile der Breitmann
    Toorned roundt und rode away:
Dat was all his parting greetin
    To der Colonel Francais.
IV.

BREITMANN TAKES THE TOWN OF NANCY.

O HEAR a wondrous shdory
Vot soundet like romance,
How Breitmann mit four Uhlans
Vas dake de town of Nantz.
De Frantschmen call it Nancy,[49]
Und dey say its fery hard
Dat Nancy mit her soldiers
Vas getook py gorpral's guard.

Dey dink id vas King Wilhelm
Ash Hans ride in de down,
Und like Odin in his glorie
Gazed derriply aroun'.
Denn mit awfool condesenchen
He at de Frantschmen shtare,
Und say, "Ye wretsched shildren?
Abbortez mir vodre mere!"

Hans mean de city Syndic,
Whom maire de Frantschmen call;
So mit a tousand soldiers
Dey 'scort him to de Hall;
In de shair of shtade dey sot him,
Der maire coom to pe heard,
Und Hans glare at him fife minutes
Pefore he shbeak a word.

Den in iron dones he ootered:
"Ich temand que rentez fous:
Shai dreisig mille soldaten
Bas loin l'ici, barploo!
Aber tonnez-moi Champagner;
Shai an soif exdrortinaire-
Apout one douzaine cart-loads;
Und dann je fous laisse faire."[50]

Denn he say to Schwackenhammer,
His segretaire - "Read
A liddle exdra liste
Of dings de army need,
Und dell dem in Franzosisch
Dey moost shell de neetfool down
In less dan dwendy minudes,
Or, py Gott, I'll purn de town."

"Item - one tousand vatches
Of purest gold so fair;
Dazu funf tousand silbern,
For de gommon soldiers' wear;
Und tree dousand diamant ringe
Dey moost make tirectly come,
We need dem for our schweethearts
Ven we write to em at home!

"Von million cigarren
Ve'll accept ash extra boons
For not squeezin dem seferely,
Dazu dwelf tousand shboons."
Here der maire fell down in schwoonin,
Denn all dat he could say
Vas ,"O mon dieu, de dieu, dieu!
Nous voila ruinees!"[51]

No wort der Breitmann ootered,
He only make a sgratch,
Calm and silend on de daple,
Mit a liddle friction match.
De maire versteh de motion,
So went him to de task
Of raisin mong de peoples
Vot it vas der Breitmann ask.

So kam he mit de ringe,
Dey vind dem pooty soon;
So kam he mit de vatches,
Und avery silber spoon.
Boot ash for de champagner,
He wept and loudly call
Dat par dieu! he hadn't any,
For de Deutsch hafe troonk it all.

Ja! - de gorporal's guart have trinket
Efery pottle in de down,
Vhile dese negotiations
Oop-stairs vere written down.
Boot der Breitmann sooplimely,
Like von who nodings felt,
Said, "Instet of le champagner
Nous brentirons du gelt."[52]

Ja wohl! Donnes cent mille franken,
C'est mir egal, you know;[53]
Pid dem pring id in a horry,
For 'tis dime for oos to go."
Der maire he pring de money,
Und der Breitmann squeeze his hand,-
"Leb wohl, dou nople brickbat,
Herzbruder in Frankenland!

"Boot it griefes my soul to larmen,
Und I sympathize mit dein,
To pense of you, mon ami,
Sans le champagner wein.
Dere will oder Deutsch pe gomin,
Und it preak mine heart to dink
De vay dey'll bang and slang you
If dere's no champagne to trink!

"Cela fous fera misere
Que she ne feux bas see;
So, vollow mes gonseilles,
Et brenez mon afis.
Shai, moi, deux mille boutelles,
De meilleur dat man can ashk,[54]
Vich I will gladly sell-
Sheap as dirt - ten franks a flask."

De maire look oop to heafen,
Wohl nodings could he say,
Vhile oud indo de mitnight
Der Breitmann rode afay.
Away - atown de falley,
Till noding more abbears
Boot de glitter of de moonlight,
De moonlight on deir spears.

V.

BREITMANN IN BIVOUAC.

HE sits in bivouacke,
    By fire, peneat' de drees;
A pottle of champagner
    Held shently on his knees;
His lange Uhlan lanze
    Stuck py him in de sand;
Vhile a goot peas-poodin' sausage
    Adorn his oder hand.

Und jungere Uhlanen
    Sit round mit oben mout'
To hear der Breitmann's shdories
    Of fitin in de Sout'
Und he gife dem moral lessons,
    How pefore de battle pops:
"Take a liddle brayer to Himmel,
    Und a goot long trink of schnapps."

Denn his leutenant bemarket:
    "How voonder shdrange it peen
Dat so very many wild pigs
    Ish dis year in de Ardennes.
Ash I sout dere - donner'r'wetter!-
    I sah dem coom heraus,
Shoost here und dere an Eber
    Mit a hoondert tousand sows.

"Shoost dink of all dese she-picks
    Vot flet to neutral land!"
Said Breitmann: "Fery easy
    Ish dis to oonderstand:
Dese schwein-picks mit de sauen
    Vot you saw a-roonin rond,
Ish a crate medempsygosis
    Of the Frantsche demi-monde.

"I hafe readet in de Bible
    How soosh a coterie
Vas ge-toornet into swine-picks,
    Und roon down indo de see;
Boot since de see aint handy,
    Or de picks vere all too dumm,
Dey hafe coot across de porder
    Und vly to Belgium."

Now ash dey boorst oud laughin,
    Und got more liquor out,
Dey hearden from de sendry
    A shot und denn a shout.
Und Breitmann crasp his sabre
    Quick ash de bullet hiss,
Und leapin out, demantet,
    "Herr'r'r'r Gott! vat row ish dis?"

Und bold der Schwabian answert:
    "Dis minute on de ground
Dere comed a Frantschman greepin,
    On all-fours a-prowlin round.
I ask him vat he vanted;
    Werda! I gry; boot he
Say nodings to my shallenge,
    Und only answer 'Oui.'

"So I shoot him like der teufels,
    Und I rader dink our friend,
Dis sneakin Frank-tiroir,
    Ish a-drawin to his end."
So dey hoonted in de pushes,
    Und in avery gorner dig,
Boot, mein Gott! how dey vas laughin,
    Ven dey found a - mordered pig.

Next week dey hear from Paris,
    Und reat in de Gaulois
Of de most adrocious action
    De vorlt vas efer saw.
How de Uhlan cannibalen,
    Dis vile und awful prood,
Hafe killt a nople Frantschman,
    Und cut him oop for food.

"Ja - shop him indo sausage,
    Und coot him indo ham;
Und schwear dey'll serfe all oders
    Exacdly so - py tam!
Sons of France, awake to glory,
    Let your anciend valor shine!
Und shweep dis Prussian vermin
    Het und dails indo de Rhine!"

VI.

BREITMANN'S LAST PARTY.

For fear of some missed onder standings, I vould shtate, dat dis is
only mean de last Barty dat der Coptain Breitmann has ge given - as
yed.  Pimepy I kess he gife anoder von, und if I kits an in-
leading, or indrotuckshun, I kess I'll go.  I am von of de vellers
dat vas ad de virst Barty, vhere mine swister-in-law de Madilda
Yane vas tantz mit Herr Breitmann.

FRITZ SCHWACKENHAMMER,
Olim Studiosus Theologiae, now Uhlan free-lancer,
und Segretarius of Coptain Breitmann.

VOT gollops at mitnight,
    Mit h'roolah and yell,
Like der teufel's wild yager
    Boorst loose out of hell?
Vot cleams in the sonrise
    Bright vlashin in gold?
Das sind die Uhlancers
    Of Breitmann der bold.

Dey frighten de coontry,
    Dey ploonder de town;
And when dey are oop
    Die Franzosen co down:
For pefore de wild Norsemen
    De Southron must flee;
Ab ira Normannorum
    Libera nos Domine![55]

How dey sweep de chateaux!
    How dey grab oop de hens!
Und gobble de toorkeys
    Shoot oop in de pens
Like de Angel of Deat'
    Dey are ragin abroad:
You may track dem py fedders
    Knee-deep in de road.

O der Breitmann ish on,
    Und der Breitmann is on,
Und mit him de Uhlans
    Are ploonderin gone.
De demon of fengeance
    His wings o'er em vave,
Mit deir fingers like hooks,
    Und mit maws like de grafe.

Dey coom to a castel,
    So shplendid, of bricks;
Franzosen defend it,
    Das help em gar nichts.
For de Uhlans hafe take it,
    Dey smash in de gate,
Und inshpired by Gott's fury,
    Dey shdole all de plate.

From shamber to shamber
    Dey fighted deir way,
Till dead in de hall
    De Franzosen all lay;
Und dere shtood a madchen,
    So lieblich und hold,
Who laugh at de dead
    Troo her ringlocks of gold.

Denn der Breitmann, all plooty,
    To'm madel so lind,
Spoke courtly und tender:
    "Vy laughst dou, mein kind?"
Denn de plue-eyed young peaudy,
    Mit lippe so red,
Said, "Vy not shall I laughen?
    Vhen Frenchmen are dead.

"I coom here from Deutschland,
    De shildren to teach;
Dey mock me for Deutsch,
    Und dey sneer at mein sbeech;
Und since de war komm,
    I vas nearly gone mad,
You wouldn't peliefe
    How dey dreet me so pad."

Mit a tear Breitmann bend
    To de peaudifool miss;
"Crate Gott! can'st dou suffer
    Soosh horrors ash dis?"
His arm round de maiden
    Der hero has bound,
Und it shtaid dere goot vhile,
    Fore dey got it unwound.

"Ho! fetch me de diamonds!
    Ho! shell out de rings!
Mit all in de castle
    Of dat sort of dings."
Twas brought to de Captain-
    A donderin load:
At de veet of de madchen
    Dat ploonder he trowed.

"Ho! pring oos champagner!
    Und light oop de hall!
Dis night der Herr Breitmann
    Will gife you a ball.
Dat pile of dead vellers,
    Vot died for La France,
May see, if dey like,
    How de Shermans can tance."

Dey find laties' garments,
    Und - troot to confess-
Likewise som Frantsch maidens,
    Who help dem to tress.
De rest of de Uhlans
    Who hadn't soosh loves,
Fixed oop in black clothes
    Mit white chokers und gloves.

Now hei! for de fittles!
    Und hei! for clavier!
For de tantz of de Uhlans-
    De men of de speer!
How de shendlemen ashk
    If dey'd blease introduce;
How de ladies mit beards
    Were called Espionnes Prusses!

Hei, ho! how dey tanzet!
    Hei, ho! how dey sang!
How mit klingen of glasses
    De braun arches rang.
How dey trill from deir hearts
    Ash dey pour out der wein,
De songs of de Oberland,-
    Songs of der Rhein.

Und madder und wilder,
    All whirlin around,
Vent Hans mit de maiden
    In Bacchanal bound.
She helt to his peard,
    Und dey gissed as if mad;
I tont dink dat efer
    Vas dimes like dey had.

Boot calm in de hall,
    Ever calm on de floor,
Was a row of still guests
    Dat wouldn't tantz nefermore.
Mit plood shtreams black winding,
    Der lord mit his men,
When der Youngest Day cooms
    Hans may meet dem acain.

Hoorah for der Uhlan,
    So rash und so wild!
Hoorah for der Uhlan,
    Der teufel's own child!-
Dis ish "Breitmann's Last Barty,"
    Dey'll sing it for years;
De lords of de lanzes,
    De sons of de speers.

For dey frighten de coontry,
    Dey ploonder de town;
Und when dey are oop
    De Franzosen go down;
For pefore de wild Norsemen
    Weak Southrons moost flee,
Ab ira Normannorum
    Libera nos Domine!


EUROPE.

-----

BREITMANN IN PARIS.
(1869.)

"Recessit in Franciam."

"Et affectu pectoris,
Et toto gestu corporis,
Et scholares maxime,
Qui festa colunt optime."
        - Carmina Burana, 13th century.

DER teufel's los in Bal Mabille,
    Dere's hell-fire in de air,
De fiddlers can't blay noding else
    Boot Orphee aux Enfers:
Vot makes de beoples howl mit shoy?
    Da capo - Bravo! - bis!!
It's a Deutscher aus Amerika:
    Hans Breitmann in Paris.

Dere's silber toughts vot might hafe peen,
    Dere's golden deeds vot must:
Der Hans ish come to Frankenland
    On one eternal bust.
Der same old rowdy Argonaut
    Vot hoont de same oldt vleece,
A hafin all de foon dere ish-
    Der Breitmann in Paris.

Mit a gal on eider shoulder
    A holdin py his beard,
He tantz de Cancan, sacrament!
    Dill all das Volk vas skeered.
Like a roarin hippopatamos,
    Mit a kangarunic shoomp,
Dey feared he'd smash de Catacombs,
    Each dime der Breitmann bump.

De pretty liddle cocodettes
    Lofe efery dings ish new,
"D'ou vient il donc ce grand M'sieu?
    O sacre nom de Dieu!"
In fain dey kicks deir veet on high,
    And sky like vlyin geese,
Dey can not kick de hat afay
    From Breitmann in Paris.

O vhere vas id der Breitmann life?
    Oopon de Rond Point gay,
Vot shdreet lie shoost pehind his house?
    La rue de Rabelais.
Aroundt de corner Harper's shtands
    Vhere Yankee drinks dey mill,
Vhile shdraight ahet, agross de shdreet,
    Der lies de Bal Mabille.

Id's all along de Elysees,
    Id's oop de Boulevarce,
He's sampled all de weinshops,
    Und he's vinked at efery garce.
Dou schveet plack-silken Gabrielle,
    O let me learn from dee,
If 'tis in lofe - or absinthe drunks,
    Dat dis wild ghost may pe?

Und dou may'st kneel in Notre Dame,
    Und veep away dy sin,
Vhile I go vight at Barriere balls,
    Oontil mine poots cave in;
Boot if ve pray, or if ve sin-
    Vhile nodings ish refuse,
Tis all de same in Paris here,
    So long ash l'on s'amuse.

O life, mein dear, at pest or vorst,
    Ish boot a vancy ball,
Its cratest shoy a vild gallop,
    Vhere madness goferns all.
Und should dey toorn ids gas-light off,
    Und nefer leafe a shbark,
Sdill I'd find my vay to Heafen - or-
    Dy lips, lofe, in de dark.

O crown your het mit roses, lofe!
    O keep a liddel sprung!
Oonendless wisdom ish but dis:
    To go it vhile you're yung!
Und Age vas nefer coom to him,
    To him Spring plooms afresh,
Who finds a livin' spirit in
    Der Teufel und der Flesh.


BREITMANN IN LA SORBONNE.

DER Breitmann sits in la Sorbonne,
    A note-pook in his hand,
'Tvas dere he vent to lectures,
    Und in oldt Louis le Grand.
Id's more ash two und dwendy years
    Since here I used mein pen;
Oh, where ish all de characders,
    Dat I hafe known since denn?

Der cratest boet efer vas,
    Der pest I efer known,
Vent lecdures here, too, shoost like me,
    Le Sieur Francoys Villon.
He raise de teufel all arount,
    He hear de Sorbonne chime;
Crate shpirid ender in mein heart,
    Und mofe mein soul to rhyme.


BALADE.

Dictes moy - in what shpirit land
    Ish Clara Lafontaine?
Or Pomare, or La Frisette,
    Who blazed on soosh a train?
Shveet Echo flings de quesdion pack,
    O'er lake or shdreamlet lone;
All eartly peauty fades afay,
    Vhere ish dem lofed ones gone?

Oh, vhere ish Lola Montez now,
    So loved in efery land?
How oft I shmoked dose cigarettes
    She rollt mit vairy hand!
Dat mighdy soul, dat shplendit brick,
    A saint's pecome to be,
For mit soosh saints der Breitmann make
    His Hagiologie.

Und vhere ish La Pochardinette?
    Ish she too mit de dead?
She loafed de Latin Quarter mit
    A hat und fedder on her het.
Lebe wohl petite Pochardinette!
    Qui ne safait refuser,
Ni la ponche a la bleine ferre,
    Ni sa pouche a un paiser.

O Prince! dese quesdions all are nix,
    I sit here all alone,
Mit von refrain to end de shdrain,
    Vhere ish mein lofed vons gone?
Vhen Marcovitch has cut und run,
    Und Schneider's off de ving,
Some cray old reprobate like me
    Vill of dese lofed vons sing.


BREITMANN IN FORTY-EIGHT.

DERE woned once a studente,
    All in der Stadt Paris,[56]
Whom jeder der ihn kennte,
    Der rowdy Breitmann hiess.
He roosted in de rue La Harpe,
    Im Luxembourg Hotel,
'Twas shoost in anno '48,
    Dat all dese dings pefel.

Boot he who vouldt go hoontin now
    To find dat rue La Harpe,
Moost hafe oongommon shpecdagles,
    Und look darnation sharp.
For der Kaisar und his Hausmann
    Mit hauses made so vree,
Dere roon shoost now a Bouleverse
    Vhere dis shdreet used to pe.

In dis Hotel de Luxembourg,
    A vild oldt shdory say,
A shtudent vonce pring home a dame,
    Und on de nexter day,
He pooled a ribbon from her neck-
    Off fell de lady's het;
She'd trafelled from de guillotine,
    Und valked de city - deadt.

Boot Breitmann nefer cared himself
    If dis vas falsch or drue,
I kess he hat mit lifin gals
    Pout quite enough to do.
Und Februar vas gomin,
    Ganz revolutionnaire,
Und vhere der Teufel had vork on hand,
    Der Hans vas alvays dere.

Und darker grew de beople's brows,
    No Banquet could dey raise,
So dey shtood und shvore at gorners,
    Or dey singed de Marseillaise.
Und here und dere a crashin sound
    Like forcin shutters ran,
Und boorstin gun-schmidts' vindows in
    Hard vorked der Breitemann.

He helped to howl Les Girondins,
    To cheer de beople's hearts;
He maket dem bild parricades
    Mit garriages und garts.
Vhen a bretty maiden sendinel
    Vonce ask de countersign,
He gafe das kind a rousin giss,
    Gott hute dir und dein!

Und wilder vent de pattle,
    France spread her oriflamme,
Und deeper roared de sturm bell,
    De bell of Notre Dame;
Und he who nefer heard it,
    O'er shots und cries of fear,
Loud booming like a dragon's roar,
    Has someding yet to hear.

Und in de Fauborg Sainte Antoine
    Dere comed a fusillade,
Und dyin groans und fallin dead
    Vere roundt dat parricade,
But der song of Revolution
    From a tousand voices round,
Made a fearful opera gorus
    To de deat' gries on de ground.

Und all around dose parricades
    Dey raise der teufel dere;
Somedimes dey vork mit pig-axes,
    Und somedimes mit gewehr.
Dey maket prifate houses
    Gife all deir arms afay,
Und denn oopon de panels
    Dey writet Armes donnees.

Und ve saw mid roarin vollies,
    Shtreaked like banded settin suns,
Two regiments coome ofer,
    Und telifer oop deir guns.
Hei! - how de deers vere roonin:
    Hei! - how dey gryed hurrahs!
For dey saw de vight vas ofer,
    Und dey know dey gained deir cause.

Dus spoke deir hearts outboorstin,
    In battle by de blade,
From sun to sun mit roarin gun
    Und donnerin parricade.
In vain pefore de depudies
    De princes tremblin stood,
Vot comes in France too late a day
    Cooms shoost in dime for blood.

Vhen de Tuileries vas daken,
    Amid de scotterin shot,
Und vlyin stones, und howlin,
    Und curses vild und hot,
'Tvas dere Hans clobbed his musket,
    Und dere de man vas first
To roosh into de palace,
    Ven de toors vere in-geburst.

Some vellers burn de guart-haus,
    Some trink des Konigs wein;
Some fill deir hats mit rasbry sham,
    Und prandy beeches fein.
Hans Breitmann in de gitchen
    Vas shdare like avery ding,
To see vot lots of victual-de-dees
    Id dakes to feed a king.

Und oder volk, like plackguarts,
    Vent dook de goaches out;
Und burnin dem, dey rolled dem
    Afay mit yell und shout.
Der Breitmann in der barlor,
    Help writen rapidly,
La liberte pour la Pologne!
    Likevise - pour l'Italie!

Den in der Tuileries courtyard
    Ten tousand volk come on;
Dey vas gissin und hurrahin
    For to dink der king vas gone.
Some vas hollerin und tantzin
    Round de blazin oldt caboose;
Vhen Frantschmen kits a goin,
    Den dey lets der teufel loose.

Boot von veller set me laughin,
    Who roosh madly roun de field;
He hat rop de Cluny Museum,
    Und gestohlen speer und schild.
Mit a sblendit royal charger,
    Vitch he hat somevhere found,
Like a trunken Don Quixote,
    He vent tearin oop und round.

Doun vent de line of Bourbons,
    Doun vent de vork of years,
Ash de pillars of deir temple
    Ge-crashed like splintered speers;
Und o'er dem rosed a phantom,
    Wild, beautiful, und weak,
Vhile millions gry arount her-
    Vive! vive la Republique;

Tree days mid shdiflin powder shmoke,
    Tree days mid cheers und groans,
Ve fought to guard de parricades,
    Or pile dem oop mit shtones.
De hand vitch held de bistol denn,
    Or made de crowbar bite,
Das war de same Hans Breitmann's hand
    Vitch now dese verses write.


BREITMANN IN BELGIUM.

-----

"Vlaenderen, dag en nacht
    Denk ik aen u.
Waer ik ook ben en vaer,
Gy zyt my altyd naer.
Vlaenderen, dag en nacht
    Denk ik aen u.

Overal vrolykheid,
    Overal lust.
Maegden van fier gelaet,
Knapen zoo vroom en draet.
Overal vrolykheid,
    Overal lust."
        - Hoffmann von Fallersleben.


SPA.

VHEN sommer drees shake fort deir leafs,
    Ash maids shake out deir locks,
Und singen mit de rifulets,
    Vitch ripplen round de rocks,
Und beople swarm land-outwards,
    Und cities weary men,
Hans Breitmann rode de Belgier mark
    For Spa in Les Ardennes.

Und vhen he came to Spadenland,
    He found it fein und fair,
For dey pour him out de peke schnapps,
    Dazu elixer rare;
Und mit a soldier's inshdink
    To find a shanse to shoot,
Mitout delay he fire afay
    Right in de Grande Redoute.[57]

De virst shot dat der Breitmann fired
    He pring de peaches down,
For he hit de double zero mit
    A gold Napoleon.
Und ash he raked de shiners in,
    He hummed a liddle doon:
"I kess I tont try dat again,"
    Said he, dis afdernoon.

Boot vhen he coom to rouge et noir,
    A tear fell tripplin denn,
Id look so moosh like goot old dimes,
    To come dose games again.
Yet vhen he lossed a hundred francs,
    He sadly toorned afay,
"I'd rader keep de tiger here,
    Dan vight him, any day."

Und shtanding py de daple,
    He saw a French lorette
Vat porrowed shpecie all around,
    Und lossed at efery bet.
"Id's all de same mit dis or dat,
    Or any kind of sin,
De lorette or de rolette - bot'
    Will make de money shpin."

He trinket of Le Pouhon well,
    Und from La Sauveniere;
He tried it ad de Barisart,
    Und auch de Geronstere.
"Dey say dat Troot' lie in a well,
    So trink from all we can,
Und here we'll prove dat Troot is Health,"
    Dat's so, sayd Breitemann.

So long in ruined Franchimont
    He sat on hollowed ground,
Und dinked of Wilhelm de la Marck,
    Who'd raked dat coontry round.
"Mein Gott! how id vas mofe mine heart
    To read in hishdory,
Und find de scattered shinin lights
    Of vellers shoost like me!

"Dis nople boar-pig of Ardennes,
    Dis shtately Wallowin lord,
Vas make him vamous py de pen,
    Und glorious py de swordt.
Und showed his hero-scholarship,
    Vhen he wrote to de pishop, 'Satis,
Brulabo monasterium
    Vestrum, si non payatis.'

"Dey say dat in de keller here
    Dere lifes a coblin briest,
Dereto a teufelsjagersmann
    Vot guard a specie chest.
O if I vonce could find de vay,
    Und spot dat box of checks,
I voonder shoost how long 'twould pe
    Pefore I'd twis deir necks."

Und in de Walk of Meyerbeer,
    Vhere plashin brooklets ring,
He see vhere in de water wild
    De wood-birds flip deir wing.
"Ash de prooklet's lost in de rifer,
    Und de rifer's lost in de sea,
Mine soul kits lost on water 'plain,'"
    Says Breitemann, says he.

Und ash he walked de Meyerbeer
    He marcked, peside de way,
A rock shoost like a wild boar's head,
    Vraie tete du sanglier.
Der Breitmann heafe a shiant sigh,
    Und say mit 'motion grand:
Von crate idee ish uber all
    In dis der Schweinpig's land.

He drafel troo de Val d'Ambleve,
    He lounge de schweet Sept Heures,
He shdare indo de window-shops,
    Und see de painted ware.[58]
He looket at de fans und dings,
    Denn said, "To tell de trut',
Dere's painted vares more dear ash dis
    Oop shdairs in La Redoute."

Und sittin in de Champignon,
    Vitch rose 'neat Lofe's schweet hand,
He read in books of Marmontel,
    Of Jeannette et Lubin.
Id's nice to see Simplicitas
    Rococoed oop mit vlowers,
Und dink soosh virtue shdill may life
    In dis base vorldt of ours.

'Tvas here, oopon de Spadoumont
    Deir gottashe used to set;
'Tvas here they keeped von simple cow
    Likevise an lettuce-bett.
Berhaps I hafe crown vorldly since,
    Yet shdill may druly say,
Dat in mine poyhood's tays I vas
    Apout so good ash dey.

But he vot vant to see dis land,
    Und has nod time for all:
Eash woodland nook und shady brook;
    On Herr Marcette shouldt call.
For he has baintet all to live
    Vhen de drees demselfs are gone;
Und shoost so goot as artist, auch,
    Ish he bon compagnon.

Farevell, schveet Spa - dou home of vlowers,
    Of ruin and of rock,
Vhere vild pirds sing und de band ish blay
    Eash day at sefen o'clock.
If all de shbrees dat Spa has seen
    Vere melted into von,
De soul vouldt reach Nirwana - lost
    In transcendental fun.


OSTENDE.

"Hupsa! jonker Jan,
Die wel ruiter worden kan."

BOON tidings to der Breitmann came
    Ash he at table end,
Dere's right goot fisch at Blankenberghe,
    Und oysters in Ostend.
Denn to Ostland ve will reiten gaen,
    To Ostland o'er de sand,
Dou und I mit pridle drawn
    For dere ish de oyster land.

Und vhen dey shtood bei Ostersee,
    Vhere de waters roar like sin,
Dere coom five hundert fischer volk
    To dake der Breitmann in.
"Gotts doonder!  Should ve doomple down
    Amoong de waters plue,
I kess you'd vant more help from me
    Dan I should vant from you!

"If you hat peen vhere I hafe peen
    Und see vot I hafe see,
Vhere de surf rise oop nine tausend feet,
    In de land of Nieuw Jarsie
Und schwimmed dat surf ash I hafe schwimmed,
    Peside de Jersey stran'"-
From dat day fort' de Ostland men
    Shdeered glear of der Breitemann.

Boot von ding set him schvearin so,
    I dinked he'd nefer cease,
De Ostend oysters kostet more
    In Ostend als Paris.
Hans asked an anciendt fisherman,
    To 'splain dis if he may,
Und says he, "Mijn Heer - dey're beter hier
    Als ein hundert leagues afay.

"Und as de oysters beter hier
    Of course dey kostet more"-
Der Breitmann dook his bilcrim shdaff,
    Und toorned him to de toor.
Says Hans, "De Vlaemsche fischermen
    Can sheat de vorldt I pet
Dey sheaten von anoder too,
    All's fisch to a Dutchman's net.

"Der king peginned a palace hier,
    De palace hat to shtop,
He foundt de beoples sheaten so
    He gife de bildin oop.
Aldough das Leben hier ish goot,
    Ad least Ostend-sibly"-
So shpoke der Breitemann und cut
    Dat city py de sea.


GENT.

"Wie kennt die stad waer alles nog
    Van Vlaenderens grootheid spreekt?
Waer ontrouw, valschheid en bedrog
    Van schaemte nog verbleekt?"
            - Ledeganck.

If I hat gold, as I hafe time,
    I tells you how 'tvere shpent,
On efery year I'd shtay a week
    In Vlanderen's hoofstad, Gent.
For, oh! de sveet wild veelins,
    In dat stad do mofe me so,
Vhen I'd dink of all de clorious men
    Vot life dere long aco.

If efer man hat manly heart,
    He'd veel dat heart to beat,
Vhen mit de oldten dime of Ghent
    He valks troo efery shdreet.
Und ach! de volk are yet so goot,
    It gave me soosh a pliss,
Vhen I hear a bier-hous spielman sing
    A melodie like dis:-

"Het was op eenen Monday,
    All on a Monday free,
Dat mijnheere Jacob Van Artevelde
    Unto his men said he:
He seide - 'Mijn lief gesellen,
    Ve all moost ride out land,
And trive our way to Bruges town
    Or Brussel in Braband.'

"Und as he oonto Brussel cam,
    De meisjes sprong from bed,
Und found Mynheere Van Artevelde
    Mit a cross-bolt troo his head."
Und shoost pecause dis bier-hous song
    Recht troo my heartsen vent,
I feel dat I could life und die
    All in de down of Gent.


BREITMANN IN HOLLAND.

-----

'S GRAVENHAGE - THE HAGUE.

IN dis boem, mein freund der Herr Breitmann hafe his fiews on art
pefore-geset mit a deepness und shorthood vich is bropably oonliked
in Aesthetik.  Ve hafe here, within de circumcomprehensifeness of
dirty-two lines, a theorie vitch - shortsomely exbressed - sends to
der teufel efery dings ash vas efer gescribed pefore on kunst or
art, und maket efery podies from Baumgartner doun to Fischer und
Taine, look shoost like puddin-headet old gasbalgs.  Boot to de
boem.  For de informadion of dem ash ish not gestudied art, I vould
shtate dat Adriaan Brauwer (who ish as regards an unvollkomene
technik de first of all Holland malers), vas nefer paint nodings
boot droonken plackguards und liederlich dings, und Van Ostade und
Jan Steen vas in most deir bilds a goot deal like him.
                - FRITZ SCHWACKENHAMMER.

Hans reitet troo de Nederland,
    From Rotterdam below,
To Gravenhaag und Leyden
    Und Haarlem - all a row;
He shtoodit in de galleries
    A tausend works of art;
Boot ach - der Adriaan Brauwer,
    Vent most teepest to his heart.

Und dus exglaim der Breitmann
    In woonder-solemn shdrain,
"De cratest men vere Brauwer,
    Van Ostade, und Jan Steen.
Der Raffael vas vel enof;
    Dat ish in his shmall vay;
Boot - Gott im Himmel! - vot vas he
    Coompared mit soosh as dey?

"Shoost see dat vight of troonken boors-
    Von tears de oder's goat:
Vhile de oder mit a pointet knife
    Ish goin for his troat.
Und a madchen mit a tree-leg shtuhl
    Ish clip him on de het,
In dese higher human passion valks,
    Der Raffael's coldt und deadt.

"De more ve digs into de eart'-
    Or less ve seeks a star,-
De nearer ve to Natur coom,
    More pantheistich far;
To him who reads dis myst'ry right,
    Mit insbiration gifen,
Der Raffael's rollen in de dirt,
    Vhile Brauwer soars to Heafen.


LEYDEN.

TIS shveet to valk in Holland towns
    Apout de twilicht tide,
Vhen all ish shdill on proad canals,
    Safe vhere a poat may clide.
Shdrange light on darkenin vater falls,
    In long soft lines afar,
Der abenddroth on dunkelheit,
    Vitch shows - or hides - a star.

De pridges risen all aroundt
    So quaindly, left und right,
Pedween each pridge und shattow, lies,
    A lemon of yellow light,
Und das volk a-goin ober,
    So darklin onwarts pass,
Dey look like Chinese shattows - shown
    Apofe a lookin-glass.

All shdiller grows, und shdiller,
    Sogar die efenin preeze,
Ish only heardt far ober het
    In dese long lines of drees;
A real oldt Holland feelin
    Cooms gadderin ober all,
You'd nefer dink a sturm hat peen
    Oopon dis Grand Canawl.

De nople houses! - how dey'd mofe
    An old New Yorker's heart,
Time vas - twix dese und dose at home
    You couldn't tell 'em part,
Mit crate brass knockers on de toors,
    Und parlors town so low
You see de crates a glowin prite
    O'er carbets ash you go.

Dere's comfort-full of avery dings,
    You veel it ash you look,
You knows de volks ish opulend,
    Und keep a bully cook;
Und oopon de high camine,
    Or here und dere on shelf,
Dere's Japanesisch dings in rows,
    Pe mingled oop mit delf.

Dere's noding in dis Holland life,
    Vitch seems of present day,
De fery shildren in de shdreeds
    Look quaintlich as dey blay;
De liddle rosy housemaids,
    In bicdures vell I know,
De dames und heers hafe all an air
    Of sixdy years ago.

They may dalk of anciendt hishdory
    Und for romantisch seek,
De ding dat mofes most teeply ish
    Old-vashioned - not antique.
O if you live in Leyden town
    You'll meet, if troot' pe told,
De forms of all de freunds who tied
    Vhen du werst six years old.


SCHEVENINGEN,
OR DE MAIDEN'S COORSE.

Oldt Flamisch.

HET vas Mijn Heer van Torenborg,
    Ride oud oopon de sand,
Und vait to hear a paardeken;
    Coom tromplin from de land.
He vaited vhen de boeren volk
    Vent oud oopon de plain,
He vaited dill de veary crows
    Flew nestwarts home acain.

He vaited ash de wild fox vaits
    In long-some hoonger noth,
He vaited dill de flitterin bats
    Vere plack on Abendroth.
Id's woe to watch for taily bread
    Or bide forgotten call,
Boot oh, to vait for heartsen lofe
    Ish veariest of dem all.

"O dat ish not mine laity's prooch
    Shoost now so star-like shined,
O dat ish not mine laity's haar
    Soft floatin on de wind.
Her goot crayhound mit soosh a step
    Vas nefer vont to go,
Und dat is niet her paardeken
    Whose shtep so vell I know.

"Dat light ish speer light from a lanz
    Vitch'll part mine pody und soul,
De floatin haar is a pennon gay
    Or wafin banderol.
De crayhound ish a ploot-hound wild
    Vitch long has dracked me here,
Und het paardeken ish a var-horse
    Vot has hoonted me like deer."

Well shpoke Mijn Heer van Torenborg
    All drue vas afery wordt,
For dey bored him troo mit lanzen,
    Und dey hewed him mit de swordt.
Dey killt him armloss, harmlos;
    De plooty reiver band;
Und puried him so careloosly
    Dat his vace shtick out de sand.

Boot e'er night's plack hat toorned to red
    Or e'er de stars vere gone,
Dere came de shtep of a paardeken
    Soft tromplin, tromplin on.
A laity fair climped off on him
    Und trip mit dainty toes:-
Boot oh, mijn Gott! - how she vas shkreem
    Ven she trot on her drue lofe's nose!

"Oh vot ish dis I trots opon?
    Id's shape fool well I know,
Dere nefer yet vas flower like dis,
    Dat in de garten crow.
Dere nefer yet vas fruit like dis
    Ash ripen on a dree;
Het is Mijn Heer van Torenborg
    Dat kan ik blainly see.

"Dat heerlijk nose, van Torenborg,
    Ish known of anciend dime,
'Tis writ in olten chronikel
    Und sung in minsdrel rhyme.
Und dis, de noblest of de race
    Since hishdory pegans,
Ish shtickin here - shdraighdt out de dirt,
    Shoost like some boer manns.

"Oh cuss de man dat mordered him!
    Ach, cuss him oop and down,
Ja - cuss him troo de forest roads,
    Und tamn him in de toun!
Und burn his vater und moder,
    Vhere'er deir vootshteps vall,
Mit his schwesters und his broders,
    De teufel rake dem all!

"May afery cuss dat e'er vas cusst,
    Since cussin foorst pegan;
Pe hoorled in von drementous cuss,
    Acainsdt dat nasdy man!
From de foorst crate cuss on Adam,
    To de smalles' of de crop"-
Here de tead man gafe a shifer,
    Und gry oud - "For Gott's sake - shdop!

"Dere's a cerdain lot of shwearin,
    Vitch anger alvays crafes;
Boot spite like dat's enof to pring
    De tead men from deir craves.
I can't lie here no longer,
    Und hear soosh pizen pain;
Und since you've shtirred me out, I kess
    I'll coom to life acain."

Mit von drementous shkreem of pliss,
    His drue lofe shtood de shock,
Den catcht him wildly py de nose,
    "Ach Torenborg - lev'st du nock!
Ach ja - du aint'st nod tead yet!
    Dere's life shdill lef' pehind,
Gott pless de dat lef' dy nose,
    Shdill wafin in de wind."

Mit hands all ofer diamonds,
    She loosed de sand apout,
Mit an oyster-shell so wildly
    She digged her lofer out.
"Und now dou'rt in free air, lofe!
    Who warst shoost now in sand!
Dere vasn't ish a nicer man,
    In all de Nederland!

Vhere vas dit liedeken written,
    Vhere vas dit liedeken sing,
Dat had gedone Hans Breitmann,
    In de town of Schevening!
'Tvas written ober Rheinwein,
    'Tvas written ober bier-
Und wer das lied gesungen hat,
    Gott geb ihm ein glucklich's jahr.[59]


AMSTERDAM.

TO Amsterd-m came Breitmann
    All in de Kermes tide;
Yonge Maegden allegader
    Filled de straat on afery side.
De meisjes in de straaten
    Vere tantzin alle nacht long;
Dere vas kissen, dere vas trinken,
    Mit a roar of Holland song.

Who went into de straaten
    Ven de sonn had gone his day,
De Dootch gals quickly grapped him
    Und tantzed him wild avay.
Dere was der Prinz von Capua,
    Who fell among dese wags;
Dey tantzed him off in a carmagnole,
    Und sent him home in rags.

Und den at afery gorner,
    So peaudifool to see,
De volk vas bilin dough-nuts,
    Or else vas fryin tea.
Und Kermes cakes mit boetry,
    Vitch land-volk dinks a dreat,
Mit all of Barnum's blayed out shows
    In dents along de shdreet.

Id pring de tears to Breitmann's eyes,
    To find in many a shtand
Vot oft he'd baid a quarder for
    To see in a distand land.
De Aztec dwins und de Siamese
    (Dough soom vere a wachsen sham);
Mit de Beardet Frau und de Bear Woman-
    All here in Amsterdam

De fashion here in Nederland
    Ish not vot you'd soopose,
Mit oos, men bays de vomens,
    Boot de Dootch gals hires deir beaux!
Dey hire dem for de season,
    Und because moosh rain ish fell,
Dey alvays bays a higher brice,
    For a man mit an umberell.

Und dere vas Nord Hollander maids,
    So woonderfool to see,
Mit caps of gold und goldne pins,
    Und quaint orfeverie.
Likewise de Zeeland Boersmen,
    Mit silber bootons gay;
Und silber belts, und silber knives,
    Mijn Gott! - how sdrange vere dey!

But dough de men wore silber gear,
    Und de vrouws in gold were tall,
De gals vere gabblin all de dimes,
    Und de men said noding at all.
"Dey say dat sbeech is silbern,
    Boot silence golden pe,
Dat aint de vay dey vork id here,"
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Goot Gott! how Breitmann vent it,
    In moonlighdt or in rain;
Den vakened to Schied-m it,
    Ven de mornin peamed again.
For to solfe von awfool broplem,
    He vas efer shdill incline;
If - den wijn is beter als de min,[60]
    Or - de min doet veel meer als de wijn.

Dwo weeks der Breitmann studiet,
    Vile he vent it on de howl.
He shpree so moosh to find de troot,
    Dat he lookt like a bi-led owl.
Den he say, "Ik wil honor Bacchus,
    So long as ik leven shall;
Boot not so moosh vercieren
    As to blace him ofer all.

De rose of lofe is lofely
    In zomer ven it plow;
De bush shdill gifes a bromise,
    In winter mid de shnow;
Ja, als de bloeme is geplukt,
    En van den steel genomen,[61]
Ve know de peautiful vill life,
    Till zomer is gekomen.

Boot oh dose vas arch-heafenly dimes,
    Ven by mine lofe I sat;
Und see de maedchen pring de grapes,
    Und crash dem in a vat.
Und ven her glances unto mine
    In plessfool ropture toorn;
I dink dere ne'er vas no dwo crapes
    Like dem plue eyes of hern.

Wat is soeter als de trinken,[62]
    Ja - niet kan beter zyn.
Niet is soeter as de minne,
    It smackt nog beter als wijn.
Es giebt nichts wie die Madchen,
    Es gibt nichts wie das Bier,
Wer liebt nicht alle beide,
    Wird gar kein Cavalier.

O vot ve vant to quickest come
    Ish dat vot's soonest gone.
Dis life ish boot a passin from
    de efer-gomin-on.
De gloser dat ve looks ad id,
    De shmaller it ish grow;
Who goats und spurs mit lofe und wein,
    He makes it fastest go.


GERMANY.

-----

BREITMANN AM RHEIN - COLOGNE.

HOW wunderschon das Vaterland
    In audumn-life abbears;
Vot rainpows gild ids vallies crand,
    Ven seen troo vallin tears.
Und VON I'll creet mit sang und klang,
    Und drown in goldnen wein;
Old Deutschland's cot her sohn again:
    Hans Breitmann's on der Rhein.

Und doughts ish schwell dat mighdy heart,
    Too awfool for make known;
Ven dey shunt him from de railroat car
    Und tropped him in Cologne.
De holy towers of de dome
    Cleam, twilicht-veiled, afar;
Und like some lonely bilgrim's pipe,
    Dim shines de efenin star.

Hans look to find his baggage check,
    Und see dat all ish shdraighdts,
Denn toorn him to de city toors,
    "Mein nadife land - wie gehts?"
Boot dat's vot all who read may run-
    Fool blainly armies write;
Id's ofer all half Shermany,
    Set down in Black and White.

Oh, Black and White! O Weiss and Schwarz!
    Vot dings ish dis to see?
I vonder vot in future years
    Your mission ish to pe?
Also in crate America
    We had soosh colors too!
Die Farb' sind mir nicht unbekannt[63]-
    Id's shoost tout comme chez nous.

Next tay to de Cathedral
    He vent de dings to view,
Und found it shoost drei thaler cost
    To see de sighds all troo.
"Id's tear," said Hans; "boot go ahet,
    I'fe cot de cash all right;
Boot id's queer dat's only Protestands
    Vot mosdly see de sighdt!

"Im Mittelalter I hafe read
    De shoorsh vas alvays sure-
An open bicdure gallerie,
    Und book for all de poor.
Boot now de dings is so arrange
    No poor volk can get in;
We Yankees und de Englisch are
    Pout all ash shbends de tin.

"I shmiles like Mephistopheles
    In shoorshes ven I see
Poor Catholics vollerin round apout
    To shdeal a sighdt - troo ME!
Dey peep und creep roundt chapel gates,
    Boot soon kits trofe afay,
Dey gross demselfs, und make a brayer-
    Boot den dey cannot bay!

"Dese Deutsche sacrisdans might learn
    More goot in Italy,
Where beoples bays shoost half de brice,
    For ten dimes more to see,
De volk vot dink I shbeak sefere
    Apout dese Kuster vays,
May read vot Mr. Badeker
    In his Belgine Hand Buch says."

Und valkin oop und town de down
    Von ding vas shdill de same:
Shoost ash of oldt he saw de shpread
    Of Jean Farina's name.
He find it nort', he find it sout',
    He find it eferyvhere;
Dere vas no house in all Cologne
    Boot J. M. F. vas dere.[64]

De best Cologne in all Cologne
    I'll shwear for cerdain sure,
Ish maket in de Julichsplatz
    Und dat at Numero Four.
Boot of dis Cologne in Julichsplatz
    Let dis pe understood,
Dat some of id ish foorst-rate pad,
    Vhile some is foorst-rate good.

Boot von ding drafellers moost opserve,
    Dis treadful trut I dells,
Fast ash dis Farinaceous crowd
    So vast hafe grown the schmells-
Dose awfool schmells in gass' und strass'
    Vitch mofe crate Coleridge squalm:
If so he wrote, vot vouldt he write
    Apout dem now, py tam?

Of all de schmells I efer schmelt,
    Py gutter, sink, or well,
At efery gorner of Cologne
    Dere's von can peat dat schmell.
Vhen dere you go you'll find it so,
    Don't dake de ding on troost;
De meanest skunk in Yankee land
    Vould die dere of disgoost.

Boot noding dinked der Breitmann
    Of schmutz or idle schein,
Vhen he sat in Abendammerung
    Und looket owd on der Rhein
Im goldnen gleam - vhile pealin far
    Rang shlow, shveet kloster bells,
Und in de dim, plue peaudiful,
    Rose distant Drachenfels.

Dey trinket lieb Liebfrauenmilch
    So pure ash voman's trut';
De singed de songs of Shermany,
    De songs of Breitmann's yout'.
De songs mit tears of vanished years,
    Made peaudiful in wein.
Dus endet out de firster tay
    Of Breitmann on der Rhein.


AM RHEIN. - No. II.

IM KAHN.

"Were diu werlt alle min,
Von deme mere unze an den Rin.
Des wolt ih mih darben,
Daz diu dame von Engellant
Lege an minen armen."
        - Carmina Burana.

AM Rhein! Acain am Rheine!
    In boat oopon der Rhein!
De castle-bergs soft goldnen
    Im Abendsonnenschein,
Mit lots of Rudesheimer,
    Und saitenklang und sang,
Und laties singin lieder,
    Ash ve go sailin 'long.

Und von fair Englisch dame
    Vas dere, so wunderscheen;
Vene'er der Breitmann saw her,
    Id made his heartsen pain.
Oh, dose long-tailed veilchen Augen,
    Vitch voke soosh hopes und fears,
Deir shape vas nod like almonds,
    Boot more like fallin tears.

Und shpecdagles were o'er dem,
    De glass of pince-nez kind,
In mercy to de beoples,
    Less dey pe shdrucken blind.
Und gazin in dem glasses,
    Reflected he pehold
De Rhine, mit all de shdeam-poats,
    Und crags in Sonnengold.

De signs upon de bier-haus;
    De gals a-washin close;
De wein-garts on de moundain,
    Like heafenly shdairs in rows:
De banks, basaltic-paven,
    Like bee-hife cells to view;
A donkey shtandin on dem,
    Likevise her lofer too.

All dis oopon dos glasses
    Vas blainly to pe seen;
One saw whate'er vas nodiced,
    Py de schone Englandrinn.
Boot oh! de fery lofe-most
    Of all dat lofe-most pe
Her own plue veilchen Augen-
    Herself she couldt not see.

So ist es in dis Leben;
    For beaudy oft we spied,
Nor know de cratest peaudy
    Ish in our soul inside.
Mein Gott! Vot himmlisch shplendor
    Vas seen mitout an toubt,
If some crate bower supernal
    Vas toorn oos insite out!

Und gazin long on Natur,
    Und gazin long on Man,
Shdill all dings glite voruber,
    Ash since de vorldt pegan:
Ash in dat laity's glasses,
    Ve see dem bassin py;
Yet veel a soul beneat' dem,
    A schweet eternal eye.

O schone Englisch maiden
    Mit honey-colored hair,
Dat flows ash if a beinen korb
    Had got oopsettet dere-
Und all de schweetness of your soul
    Vas dripplin from your brain!
Oh shall I efer meet mit dir
    Oopon dis eart' acain?

O Englisch engel maiden!
    O schveet betaubend dofe!
O Rheinwein und cigarren!
    O luncheon, mixed mit lofe!
O Drachenfels und Nonnenwerth!
    O Liebeslust und pein!
Dus ents de second chapterlet
    Of Breitmann on der Rhein.


AM RHEIN. - No. III.

NONNENWERTH.

(Alt Deutsch.)

HE shtood peside de Kloster-place,
    Oopon de Rheinisch shore,
Und dere he saw a lofely face,
    He'd seen in treams pefore.

"Feinslieb, und will'st dou go mit me?
    Feinsllieb, make no delay;
For rocks ish shdeep und vales ish teep,
    Und dings ish in de way."

"Und oh! how can I go mit dir,
    Or flyen out of land?
Der bischof holts me py de law,
    Der Rheingraf by der hand.

"Liebsherz, if dou could'st landwarts gehn,
    I'd follow willingly;
Boot we are leafs, und shdrong's de shdem
    Vitch pinds oos to de dree."

"Der briest who helt dee py de law
    Ish now a broken man;
Der Rheingraf who vouldt marry dee
    Ish in der Kaisar's ban.

"Und if de Kloster-beoples here
    Vill shdop your goin to town,
Bei Gott! I'll burn von half of dem,
    De oder half I'll trown!

"Denn linger not to back dy drunk,
    Boot led our lofe hafe vings;
Dere's milliners in fair Cologne,
    Vill make you avery dings."

She toorn her eyes im mondenschein,
    She schmile so heafenly;
"Dear lofe, so shendle und so goot!
    I'll cut away mit dee.

"Und do not killl de Kloster-volk,
    'Tvouldt only bring tiscrace!
Dough if I had de abbess here,
    Lort! how I'd slap her vace!"

De moonlighdt blayed oopon de drees,
    It shined oopon de blain,
Two forms rode in de mitnight woods,
    Und nefer coomed again.


MUNICH.

GAMBRINUS.

    "Vot ish Art?  Id ish somedings to drink, objectively
foregebrought in de Beaudiful.  Doubtest dou? - denn read, ash
I hafe read, de Dyonisiacs of Nonnus, and learn dat de
oopboorstin of infinite worlds into edernal Light und mad goldnen
Lofeliness - yea of dein own soul - is typifide only py de CUP.
Vot! - shdill skebdigal?  Tell me denn, O dou of liddle fait, vere on
eart ish de kunst obtain ids highest form if not in a BIERSTADT?[65]
Ha! ha!  I poke you dere!"
    -     Caupo Recauponatus, MS. by Fritz Swackenhammer, olim
candidatus theologiae at Tubingen, shoost now lagerbierwirth in St.
Louis. (Dec. 1869.)

"Cerevisia bibunt homines
Animalia ceterae fontes."

In a field of goldnen parley
    Goot King Gambrinus shlept,
Und treamin' pout de dursty volk,
    Dey say he gried und vept.
"In all mine land of Nederland,
    Dere crows no mead or wein,
Und wasser I couldt nefer get
    Indo dis troat of mein.

"Now hear me on, ye headen gotts!
    Und all de Christian too;
Der Bacchus und der Shoopider,
    Und Marie tressed in plue!
Und mighdy Thor, der donner gott,
    Und any else dat be!
Der von as helps me in dis Noth,
    His serfant I will pe."

Und ash dis sinfull headen
    All in de parley lay,
Dere coom in tream an angel
    Who soft dese worts tid say:
"Stay oop, dou boor Gambrinus!
    For efen all aroundt
Im parley vhere dou shleepest,
    Some dings goot to trink ish found.

"Im parley vhere dou shleepest
    Dere hides a trink so clear,
Dat men will know zukunftig-
    Ash porter- ale- or bier."
Und denn in Nederlandisch
    He put de konig troo,
Und gafe him - allwhile treaming-
    De recipe to prew.

Oop rose der goot Gambrinus,
    Und shook him in de sun:
"Go vay, ye sinfool headen gotts!
    Mit you its out und done!
Ye'fe left me mit mine beoples
    In error und in durst,
Till in our treadful tryness,
    Ve tont know vitch is wurst."

Dat vas der goot Gambrinus
    Oonto his palac't vent,
Und loafers troo de Nederland
    To all his lordts he sent.
"Leave Odin - or you lose your hets!"
    De order vas sefere,
Yet tinged mit mildness, for he sent
    De recipe for bier.

O den a merry sound vas heardt
    Of bildin troo de land,
Und de kirchen und de braweries
    Vent oop on efery hand;
For de masons dey vere hart at vork,
    Und trinkin hart at dat,
Und some hat bricks mitin de hods,
    Und some mitin deir hat.

Dey prew it in de Nederland,
    Dey prew it on de Rhine;
Boot in de oldt Bavarian land,
    Dey make it shdrong und fein.
Und he dat trinks in Munich,
    Ash all goot vellers know,
Has got somedings to dink apout,
    Vherefer he may go.

II.

Hafe you heardt of Kong Gambrinus?
    If you hafen't id vas gueer,
For he vas de first erfinder
    Und de holy saint of bier.
Und his bortrait, mit a sceptre,
    Fery peaudifool to see,
Hangs on afery lager-bier house,
    In de land of Germanie.

Efery vhere de whole world ofer,
    Deutschers paint him on de sign,
As a broof dat dey are dealin
    In de Bok und Lager line.
Crown und bier-mug, robe und ermine;
    German signs of empire, dese,
Mit a long white beard a fallin'
    Fery nearly to his knees.

Vonce dis bier-saint, pright und early,
    Rose from bett und vent his vay,
To a dark mysderious gastle,
    Vhere his lager-donjon lay.
Vhile de lark's first song vas ringin',
    Und die roses shone in dew,
Den his soul vas shoost in order
    To enshoy de early brew.

Deeply, awfooly he schwilled it,
    Till de vaults seem toornin round;
Und vhile tipsy - over tips he-
    In he falls - und dere is trowned.
Yet vhile goorglin in de bier-fass,
    Biously he gafe his soul:
"Gott verdammich! Donnerwetter!
    Himmels sacrament-a-mol!"

Dere dey found der kong "departed,"
    Not mitout his stir-up cup:
Moosh dey woonderd dat he berishet
    Vhen he might hafe troonk it oop;
Or dat his long peard vitch floatet
    Fool a yard on efery side,
Hadn't buoyed him from destrugdion:-
    Dus der beer-dead monarch died.
FRANKFORT-ON-THE-MAIN.

"Sankt Martin war ein frommer Mann
Trank gerne Cerevisiam,
Und hatt er kein Pecuniam
So liess er seinen Tunicam."

(Comment by Herr Schwackenhammer.)

VONCE oopon a dimes in Frankfort der Herr Breitemann exsberiencet
an interfal pedween de periot ven he hat gespent de last remiddance
he hat become from home, und de arrifal of de succedin wechsel, or
bill of exghange - und, in blain derms, was hard up.  Derefore he
vent to dat goot relation who may pe foundt at den or fifdeen per
cent all de worlt ofer, - "mine Onkel," - und poot his tress-goat
oop de shpout for den florins.  No sooner vas dis done, dan dere
coomed an infitation from de English laity in whom he vas so moosh
mit lofe in betaken, to geh mit her to a ball-barty.  Awful bad vas
he veel, und sot apout tree hours mitout sayin nodings, und denn
wafin his hand, boorst out mit de vollowin version of dat peaudiful
lied by Wilhelm Caspary:-

        "Mein Frack ist im Pfand-haus."

Mine tress-goat is shpouted, mine tress-goat aint hier,
Vhile you in your ball-ropes go splurgin, mein tear!
To barties mit you I'm infitet you know,
Boot my pest coat ish shpouted - mine poots are no go.
To hell mit mine Onkel - dat rasgally knafe!
Dis pledgin und pawnin has mate me his slafe!
Ven I dink of his sign-bost, den dree dimes I bawl,
Vhile mine plack pants hang lonely und dark on de wall.

Goot night to dee fine lofe - so lofely und rich,
Mein tress-goat ish shpouted - gon-fount efery stitch!
I dinks dat olt Satan troo all mine affairs,
Lofe, business, und fun, has peen sewin his tares.
My tress-goat ish shpouted - mine tress-goat aint here,
While you in your glorie go shinin, mein tear,
Und de luck of der teufel ish loose ofer all,
Vhile my black pants hang lonely und dark on de wall.

    Dis four-goin song vas over-set by der Hans Breitmann from de
German of Wilhelm Caspary, whose lyric vas a barody on a
dranslation made indo Deutsch by Freiligrath from anoder boem py
Sir Waldherr Scott, vitch Sir Waldherr vas kit de idee of from an
oldt Scottish ballad vitch pegin mit de vorts-

"My hearts in de Hielands, mein hearts ish nae hier,
Mein hearts in de Hielands, in wilden revier;
It hoonts for de shtag, und id hunts for de reh,
Mein hearts ist im Hochland wo immer ich geh."

    Dis is de original Scotch, as goot as I can mineself rememper it.
Ven I vas dell der Herr Karl Blind pout dis intercommixture of
perplexified dransitions from Scotch to English, and dence into
German, and dereafter into a barody, vitch vas be done ofer again indo
Herr Breitmann's own slanguage, he sait it vas a Rattenkonig - a
phrase too familiar to mine readers to require any wider
complication.[66]


ITALY.

-----

BREITMANN IN ROME.

DERE'S lighds oopon de Appian,
    Dey shine de road entlang;
Und from ein hundert tombs dere brumms
    A wild Lateinisch song;
It rings from Nero's goldnen haus;
    Evoe! - here he coom!
Fly oud, ye moenads, from your craves!-
    Hans Breitmann's got to Rome!

For vhile de lamp holts oud to purn,
    Or von goot shpark ish dere,
Dere's hope for all of dem whose lives
    Ish doun in Lempriere.
Von real, shenuine heathen
    Is coom at last to home;
Ye shleepin gotts, lift oop your hets-
    Hans Breitmann lifes in Rome!

Silenus mit der Hercules,
    Dere-to der Maia's sohn,
Ish all unite in Breitmann
    To make a stunnin one.
Frau Venus mit de Bacchanals
    Ist shmile to see him come;
De Vesta only toorn her pack
    Vhen Breitmann kit to Rome.

He vented to de Vacuum,
    Vhere de Bope ish keep his bulls;
Boot couldn't vind dem, dough he heardt
    Dat all de blace vas fools.
Dere ish here and dere some ochsen,
    Right manivest I see;
Boot de bools all comes from Irish priests,
    Said Breitemann, said he.

Und goin' py de Vacuum,
    Und passin' troo de yard;
Mein Gott! how vas he stoomple, vhen
    He see der Schweitzer guard,
Mit efery kinds of colors tresst,
    Like shtreamers in de van.
"Hans Wurst ist stets ein Deutscher g'west,"
    Das marked der Breitemann.

Und dus replied an guartsmann:-
    "I shoys to see you here:
Ich bin dem Bapst sei Laibgaertner.
    Dazu a halberthier.
Dis purpur kleid of yellow-plue
    Vas made, ash I hafe heard,
Py von Hans Michel Angelo,
    Der tailor of our guard.

"Ve're shoost von hoondert dirty strong,
    Ve list for twenty year;
De serfice ist not pad, boot dis-
    Verdamm das Romisch bier!
For ven mit birra gazzosa
    A maiden fills my glass,
She might ash vell gife gift ash say-
    'Feinslieb, ich schenk dir dass!'"

Und dus rebly der Breitmann:-
    "Un Tedesco Italianazato,
Ein Deutscher toorned Italian, ish
    Il diavolo in carnato.
Your clothes are like infernal flames,
    Dey burn my fery soul;
Boot to-night we'll trink togedder - nun
    Lieb'landsmann lebe wohl!"

At de Sherman artisds' festa,
    Vhere all vas pright und fair,
'Tvas fairer und more prighterfull
    Vhen Breitmann enter dere.
Und der vaiters in de Greco
    (So long he trinked und sot)
Vas called him L'Ubbriacone-
    'Tvas de name der Breitmann got.

He saw a veller in de shtreet,
    Vot sell some friction-matches;
De kind dey call Infallible,
    For dey blazes ven you scratches.
Dey dragged him off to brison,
    Und tied him mit a rope;
For in Rome dere's nix Infallible,
    Dey said, excebt de Bope.

Hans see de crate Prometheus,
    In Corsini's gallery hang;
He tought apout de matches,
    Und it made his heart go bang.
It's risk to carry light apout,
    Too cheap for efery man;
How de Lucifers is fallen![67]
    Ita dixit Breitmann.

He got among de Bope's Zouaves,
    Dey trinked from morn to night;
Den frolicked colle belle
    Ontil de shky crew pright.
It blease der Breitmann vonderfool,
    And dus he often say:
"Zouaviter in modo ish
    Der real Roman way."

Boot oh, his heart burned vild mit fire,
    His eyes gefilled mit tears,
At de gotts in efery bilder saal,
    Mit goats' legs, tails, und ears.
Und he sopped - "Ach liebes Deutschland,
    Bist here on every hand?
Was machst du Mephistopheles
    So weit im Walschen Land?"

Boot de wood-nymphs boorst out laughin,
    Der Garten-gott dere to,
Und sait - "Oldt Hans! vile you're apout
    Ve nefer can look blue."
Den Pan blay on his Syrinx,
    To de tune of Mary Blane,
"Don't gry pecause ve're out of town,
    Ve're coming pack again.

"Von day you got de yolk und vhite,
    De next day only shells;
Von day dey holts a council,
    Und de next day - 'someding else!'
Id's bopes und kings, und gotts and dings,
    Oopon dis eartly ball;
Boot for me id's all von frolic,
    Und a high oldt carnival!

"Rise oop, dou Odin-trafeler,
    Und toorn dee to de Nort,
Wherefrom, as Bible dells dee,
    Crate efil shall come fort.
Dere is mutterins in Ravenna,
    Und ere long dere'll come a turn,
A real hell-bender from de land
    Of Dieterich von Bern.

"Und ven der Breitmann's prototype,
    Der Fictoor Manuel,
Cooms tromplin, tromplin troo de fern,
    To give dis coontry hell.
Und ven in La Comarca,
    Der is shtorm all in de air,
Dy Gotts vill gife dee vork, mein Sohn,
    Hans Breitmann shall be dere!"

For a yar will nod be ofer
    Pefore de Frantsch will run,
Und de game at last be ented,
    Und Italy pe won.
Und denn in roarin battle,
    For hishtory so grand,
Dy banner'll lead de Uhlan spears,
    All in de Frankenland.

-----

    Nota bene. - Dis boem was all written in 1869, pefore de
wars; und all de dings prophezeit in it coomed to bass.  Herein der
Herr Breitmann abbears ash a Seher or Prophet so crate as de cratest
ash nefer vas.  Der crate ardist, Mishter W. W. Story, for whom dis
lied vas written, can proof all dis.
                            FRITZ SCHWACKENHAMMER.
                            [Redaktor.]

LA SCALA SANTA.

"Robusti sono i fatti."
-    Discorso del Terremoto,
    del S. Alessandro Sardo.
    Venetia, A.D. 1586.

IN San Gianni Lateran,
    Dey've cot a flight of shdairs,
More woonderful ash nefer vas,
    As Latin pooks declares.
For you kits your sins forgifen,
    If you glimes dem knee py knee;
It's such a gitten up a stairs,
    I nefer yet did see.

Now as Breitmann vas a vaitin
    Among some demi reps,
Ascensionem expectans,
    To see dem glime de steps,
Dere came a sinful scoffer,
    Who his mind had firmly set
To go dem holy sdairs afoot,
    Und do it on a bet!

Boot shoost as he vas startet,
    To make dis sassy go,
Der Breitmann caught him py de neck,
    Und tripped him off his toe!
Und den dere come de skience,
    A la prenez gardez vous;
For he bung his eye and bust his shell,
    Und shplit his noshe in dwo.

De briests vere so astonish,
    To see him lam de man,
Dat dey shvore a holy miracle
    Vas vork by Breitemann.
Says Breitmann, "I'm a heretic,
    But dis you may pe bound,
No chap shall mock relishious dings
    Vhile I'm a bummin round.

"Und you owes me really noding,
    For as I'll plainly show,
At last I've found out someding
    Vot I alfays vant to know.
Und now dat I have found it,
    In de newspapers I'll brag:
Evviva!  Ho trovato,
    Vot means a Scala-Wag."[68]


BREITMANN INTERVIEWS THE POPE.

"Altri beva il Falerno, altri la Tolfa.
. . . . . . . .

Toscana re, dite
Pra ch'io parli dite."
    -    Bacco in Toscano,
        di Francisco Redi.

"Si regressum feci metro
Retro ante, ante retro-
Quid si graves sunt acuti?
Si accentus fiant muti?
Quid si placide, plene, plane
Fregi frontem Prisciani?-
Sat est Verbum declinavi
Titubo-titubas-titubavi."
        - Barnabae Itinerarium. London, 1716.

VON efenin ash der Breitmann vent from his weinhaus vinkin,
So peepy mit Falernian vitch he vas starkly trinkin,
He found his hut and goat was gone, - dey'd dook em oud for dryin,-
Und in deir blace a priester hut und priester mantel lyin.

Der Breitmann poot de triangel oopon his het, and whistled,
Den rop de cloak around his form, and down de Corso mizzled.
De beoples gazed mit staunischment as bey dem he go vheelin,
He look ganz oltra tramontane, so twisty vas his reelin.

Next tay in Vaticano, while he shtared at frescoes o'er him,
Hans toorned und mit amazemend saw der Pabst vas shoost pefore him!
Down on his knees der Breitmann vent - for so de law it teaches;
He proke two holes in de bavement - und likevise shblit
         his preeches.

"Ego video," says de Bope - "tu es antistes ex Almania,
Est una mala gente et corrupta con insania,
Un fons hereticorum et malorum tut terrible,
Perche non vultis che ego - il Papa - sei infallibile."

"Sit verbo venia," said Hans, "permitte, Sancte Pater,
Num verum est ut noster rum gemixta est mit water?
In coelis wo die gotter live, non semper est sereno,
Nor de wein ash goot ash decet in each spaccio di vino.

"Sunt mihi multi fratres qui si denkunt ut dicisti,
Ego kickerem illos, valide, per sanguine de Christi!
In nostro monasterio si habemus nostrum rentum
Contra infallibilita non curamus rubrum centrum.[69]

"Viginti nostrorum nuper convenere,
In quondam capitulo, simul et dixere;
Papa vult Concilium in Romam tenere,
Quid debemus super hoc ipsi respondere?"[70]

Et dixit noster presul, "Es ist mir omnis unus,
Si Papa est infallibilis, tanquam non sum jejunus,
Si nonus est Pius aut Pius est Nonus-
Diabolis curat.  Non accipio dieser onus.

"Si possum me jacere circum vitrum Rhenovini[71]
Es ist mir wurst si Papa est originis divini:
Deus se fecit olim homo, et nahm dis irds'che Leben,[72]
Et nunc Papa noster will sich selbst zum Gott erheben.

"Ita dixit Breitmann et sanctus Pater respondit:
Me piace semper intendere tutto cio che l'on dit,
Sed tu dic mihi la sua ragione:
Tu non homo natus es, solus mangiar maccheroni.

"Tonitrus et cespes!" dixit Johanes Breitmann.
"Si veritatem cupies, tunc ego sum der right man;
Percute semper ferrum dum caldum est et malleable,
Nunc est tuum tempus te facere infallible.

"In nostra America quum Praeses decet abire,
Die ultimo fecit omne quod posset imaginire.
Appointet ambasciatores et post-magistros,
Consules et alios, per dextros et sinistros.

"Quum Rex Bomba ista Neapolit-anus,
Compulsus fuit to shin it - ut dixit Africanus-
Fecit ultimo die ducos et countos, vanus.
(Inter alios M'Closkey, tuus Hibernicus chanberlanus.)[73]

"Et quia tu es; ut credo; ultimus Poporum,
Facis bene devenire, quod dicitur High Cockalorum-
Sei magnissimus toad in the puddle, ite caput, magnamente;
Et ERITIS SICUT DEUS, nemine contradicente!

"Unus error solus, Sancte Pater commisisti.
Quia primus infallible non te proclamavisti,
Nam nemo audet dicere: Papa fecit quod non est bonus.
Decet semper jactare super alios probandi onus.

'Conceptio Immaculata, hoc modo fixisti,
Et nemo audet dicere unum verbum, de isti:
Non vides si infallibilis es, et vultis es exdare,[74]
Non alius sed tu solus hanc debet proclamare."

"Figlio mio," dixit Papa; "Tu es homo mirabilis,
Tua verba sunt mi dulcior quam ostriche cum Chablis
In tutta Roma, de Alemania gente,
Non ho visto uno con si grande mente.

"Vero benedetto es - eris benedictus,
Tibi mitterem photographiam in quo sum depictus.
Tu comprendes situatio - il punto et gravamen.
Sunt pauci clerici ut te.  Nunc dico tibi. - Amen!"


THE FIRST EDITION OF BREITMANN.
SHOWING HOW AND WHY IT WAS THAT IT NEVER APPEARED.

"Uns ist in alten Maeren
    wunders viel geseit
Von Helden lobebaeren,
    von grosser Arebeit.
Von Festen und Hochzeiten,
    von Weinen und Klagen,
Von kuehnen Recken Streiten,
    moht Ihr nun Wunder horen sagen."
             - Der Nibelungen Lied.

DO oos, in anciend shdory,
    Crate voonders ish peen told
Of lapors fool of glory,
    Of heroes bluff und bold;
Of high oldt times a-kitin,
    Of howlin und of tears,
Of kissin and of vightin,
    All dis we likes to hears.

Dere growed once dimes in Schwaben,
    Since fifty years pegan,
An shild of decend elders,
    His name Hans Breitemann.
De gross adfentures dat he had,
    If you will only look,
Ish all bescribed so truly
    In dis fore-lyin book.

Und allaweil dese lieder
    Vere goin troo his het,
De writer lay von Sonntay
    a-shleepin in his bett;
Vhen, lo! a yellow bigeon
    Coom to him in a dream,
De same dat Mr. Barnum
    Vonce had in his Museum.

Und dus out-shprach de bigeon:
    "If you should brint de songs
Or oder dings of Breitmann
    Vhich to dem on-belongs,
Dey will tread de road of Sturm and Drang,
    Die wile es mohte leben,[75]
Und be mis-geborn in pattle-
    To dis fate ish it ergeben."

Und dus rebly de dreamer:
    "If on de ice it shlip,
Denn led id dake ids shanses,
    Rip Sam, und let 'er rip!
Dou say'st id vill pe sturmy:
    Vot sturmy ish, ish crand,
Crates heroes ish de beoples
    In Uncle Samuel's land.

"Du bist ein rechter Gelbschnabel,[76]
    O golden bigeon mine,
Und I'll fighdt id on dis summer,
    If id dakes me all dis line.
Full liddle ish de discount,
    Oopon de Yankee peeps."
"Go to hell!" exglaim de bigeon;
    Foreby vas all mine shleeps.

Dere vent to Sout Carolina
    A shentleman who dinked,[77]
Dat te pallads of der Breitmann
    Should papered pe und inked.
Und dat he vouldt fixed de brintin
    Before de writer know:
Dis make to many a brinter,
    Fool many a bitter woe.

All in de down of Charleston,
    A druckerei he found,
Where dey cut de copy into takes
    Und sorted it around.
Und all vas goot peginnen,
    For no man heeded mooch.
Dat half de jours vas Mericans
    Und half of dem vas Dutch.

Und vorser shtill, anoder half
    Had vorn de Federal plue,
Vhile de anti-half in Davis grey
    Had peen Confeterates true.
Great Himmel! vot a shindy
    Vas shdarted in de crowd,
Vhen some von read Hans Breitmann,
    His Barty all aloud!

Und von goot-nadured Yankee,
    He schwear id vos a shame,
To dell soosh lies on Dutchmen,
    Und make of dem a game.
Boot dis make mad Fritz Luder,
    Und he schwear dis treat of Hans,
Vos shoost so goot a barty
    Ash any oder man's.

Und dat nodings vas so looscious
    In all dis eartly shpeer,
Ash a quart mug fool of sauer-kraut,
    Mit a plate of lager-bier.
Dat de Yankee might pe tam mit himself,
    For he, der Fritz, hafe peen,
In many soosh a barty
    Und all dose dings hafe seen.

All mad oopsproong de Yankee,
    Mit all his passion ripe;
Und vired at Fritz mit de shootin-shtick,
    Vheremit he vas fixin type.
It hit him on de occupit,
    Und laid him on de floor;
For many a long day afder
    I ween his het was sore.

Dis roused Piet Weiser der Pfaelzer,
    Who vas quick to act und dink;
He helt in hand a roller
    Vheremit he vas rollin ink.
Und he dake his broof py shtrikin
    Der Merican top of his het,
Und make soosh a vine impression,
    Dat he left de veller for deat.

Allaweil dese dings oonfolded,
    Dere vas rows of anoder kind,
Und drople in de wigwam
    Enough to trife dem plind.
Und a crate six-vooted Soudern man
    Vot hafe vorked on a Refiew,
Shvear he hope to Gott he mighd pie de forms
    If de Breitmann's book warn't true.

For de Sout' vas ploundered derriple,
    Und in dat darksome hour
He hafe lossed a yallow-pine maiden,
    Of all de land de vlower.
Bright gold doublones a hoondered
    For her he'd gladly bay
Ash soon ash a thrip for a ginger-cake,
    Und deem it cheap dat day.

To him antworded a Yorker
    Who shoomp den dimes de boun-ti-ee:
(De only dings he lossed in de war
    Was a sense of broperty.)
Says he, "Votefer you hafe dropped
    Some oder shap hafe get,
Und de yallow-pine liked him petter ash you,
    On dat it is safe to bet!"

Dead pale pecame dat Soudern brave,
    He tidn't so moosh as yell,
Boot he drop right on to de Yorker,
    Und mit von lick bust his shell.
Denn out he flashed his pig-sticker,
    Und mit looks of drementous gloom,
Rooshed vildly in de pattle
    Dat vas ragin round de room.

Boot in angulo, in de corner-
    Anoder quarrel vas grow
'Twix a Boston shap mit a Londoner;
    Und de row ish gekommen so:
De Yankee say dat de H-u-mor
    Of soosh writin vas less dan small,
Dough it maket de beoples laughen,
    Boot dat vas only all.

Denn a Deutscher say, by Donner!
    Dat soosh a baradox
Vould leafe no hope for writers
    In all Pandora's baender box.
'Twas like de sayin dat Heine
    Hafe no witz in him goot or bad,
Boot he only kept sayin witty dings
    To make beoples pelieve he had.

Denn de oder veller be-headed
    Dat dere vas not a shbark of foon
In de pad spelt lieds when you lead dem
    Into Englisch correctly done:-
Den a Proof Sheet veller respondered,
    For he dink de dings vas hard,
"Dat ish shoost like de goot oldt lady
    Ash vent to hear Artemus Ward.

"Und say it vas shames de beoples
    Vas laugh demselfs most tead
At de boor young veller lecturin,
    Vhen he tidn't know vot he said."
Hereauf de Yankee answered,
    "Gaul dern it:- Shtop your fuss!"
And all de crowd togeder
    Go slap in a grand plug-muss.

De Yankee shlog de Proof Sheet
    Soosh an awfool smock on de face,
Dat he shvell right oop like a poonkin
    Mit a sense of his tisgrace;
Boot der Deutscher boosted an ink-keg
    On dop of de oder's hair:
It vly troo de air like a boomshell - denn-
    Mine Gotts! - Vot a sighdt vas dere!

Denn ofer all de shapel
    Vierce war vas ragin loose;
Fool many a vighten brinter
    Got well ge-gooked his goose.
Fool many a nose mit fisten,
    I ween was padly scrouged;
Fool many an eye pright gleamin
    Vas ploody out-gegouged.

Do wart ufgehouwen,[78]
    Dere vas hewin off of pones;
Do horte man darinne
    Man heardt soosh treadful croans.
Jach waren da die Geste,
    De row vas rough and tough,
Genuoge sluogen wunden-
    Dere vas plooty wounds enough.

De souls of anciend brinters
    From Himmel look down oopon,
Und allowed dat in a chapel
    Dere was nefer soosh carryins on.
Dere was Lorenz Coster mit Gutemberg,
    Und Scheffer mit der Fust,
Und Sweynheim mit Pannartz trop deers,
    Oopon dis teufel's dust.

Dere vas Yankee jours extincted
    Who lay upon de vloor,
Dere vas Soudern rebs destructed,
    Who vouldt nefer Jeff no more.
Ash deir souls rise oop to Heafen,
    Dey heardt de oldt brinters' calls,
Und Gutemberg gifed dem all a kick
    Ash he histed dem ofer de walls.

Dat ish de vay dese Ballads
    Foorst vere crooshed in ploot and shdorm,
Fool many a day moost bass afay
    Pefore dey dook dis form.
De copy flootered o'er de preasts
    Of heroes lyin todt,
Dis vas de dire peginnin-
    Das war des Breitmann's Noth.

Dis song in Philadelphia
    Long dimes ago pegun,
In Paris vas gondinued, und
    In Dresden ist full-done.
If any toubt apout de facts,
    In nople minds ish grew,
Let dem ashk Carl Benson Bristed,
    He knows id all ish drue.

Und now, dese Breitmann shdories
    In gebrindt in many a lant,
Sogar in far Australia
    Dey're gestohlen und bekannt:-
"Geh hin mein Puch in alle VVelt
    Steh auss was dir kompt zu!
Man beysse Dich, man reysse Dich
    Nur dass man mir nichts thu!"[79]


BREITMANN'S LAST BALLADS.

BREITMANN IN TURKEY.

DERR BREITMANN hear im Turkenreich
    Vas fighten high und low,
"Steh auf, oh Schwackenhammer mein!
    It's dime for us to go.
Zieh dein Kanonenstiefel an,
    Und schleife Dir das Schwert,
Schon lang her han mer nichts gethan,
    Der Weg ist reitenswerth."[80]

"Oopon vitch side?  I hartly know
    Boot von side in dis war:
Dere ist de holy Russ-land
    All mit a holy Tsar;
But I pe not a holy-er,
    Nor you von Saint, I fear;
Out line is holy ploonder,
    Mit sacred Lager-bier.

"Dere's von Constantinoble-man
    Vot write to me, und say
He kits me an commission
    To make me Breitmann Bey,
Und if I mounts de turpan
    Und keeps de Muslin law,
Und bribes ein wenig, den I rise
    To Breitemann Pasha.

"Dis much is drue, dat Toorkey is
    A real Powder land,
Und if dey're goin' to touch it off,
    Vy, ve moost pe on hand.
Und if ve shpring into de airs
    Vhile meddlin' in de fuss,
I rader dink some Russian bears
    Vill shpring along mit us."

Und ven he kit to Turkreich
    Der Breitmann work like mad,
Und kit ein corps togeder,-
    Mein Gott! vat men he had!
Mit Polers und mit Shipsies,
    Ungaren, Turks, und such,
Und allerlei Gesindel.  "Hei!"
    Says Hans: "dis beats de Dutch!"

Den onwards to his Schicksal[81]
    Und forvarts troo de night,
Und oopwarts to his mission,
    Und downvarts in de vight.
Until in de Bulgaren
    Von night his horse he strode,
Und meet a tausand Kossacks
    Pefore him on de road.

Slap forward rode der Breitmann
    Right on de Kossack spears,
But forvarts coom deir leader
    And halted his careers,
Und gry, "O Turkisch Ritter,
    I am de Capitan,
And if you want a shindy,
    Step up, and I'm your man."

Dey fightet like der teufel,
    Dey fightet mit deir swords,
Und Breitmann vould hafe kilt him,
    But 'twas not on de cards,
For de Kossack fire a bistol
    As his retreadt pegan,-
Down from his horse all senseless
    Flop! went der Breitemann.

Vhen he hafe kit his senses,
    Der Breitmann find he lay
Insite a nople castell,
    Upon a canape;
Und py his side a lady
    So wunderschon to see,
Vas shlisin oop a lemon
    Indo a cop of thee.

Den to himself say Breitmann,
    Aldough he hold his jaw,
"Dis is de vinest womans,
    Py Gott! I efer saw.
Vot lofeliness! vot muscle!
    Mit efery himmlisch charm!
She measures twenty inches,
    Bei Donner! roundt de arm."

De lady see his glances
    So noble und so game,
Und yust as he reflected
    She dink of him de same,
Und she say, "Wie gehts?" in English,
    "Du galiant cavalier,
Who art pecome de captive
    All of my bow und spear.

"I am a gal dis mornin',
    Yestreen I vas a knight,
Old hoss - you nearly smashedme,
    I guess, in that small fight;
And if I hadn't shot you
    I think I should have ran."
"Gottshimmel mit Potzbomben!
    Egsclaim der Breitemann.

"But say, O nople lady,
    Vot got you in dot set
Of plackgards - vilt dou dell me?"
    De dame rebly: "You bet!
My father came from Boston,
    And when this war began
He got a splendid contract,
    All with the Russi-an,

"To sell the army shoe-strings;
    But I have read of fights,
And I dream of war and glory,
    For I go for women's rights;
Then I read a book of poems
    Which fairly turned my head,
The ballads of Hans Breitmann"--
    "Oh --- ho!" Hans Breitmann said.

"And as I think the Breitmann
    Must be the greatest man
Who ever went a-fighting
    Since History began,
I dressed me like a soldier,
    For I am stark of limb;
With Breitmann for a model,
    And try to act like him.

"Oh, tell me, noble captive,
    While rolling in this storm
Which men call life, hast ever
    Beheld Hans Breitmann's form?
Oh, could I once embrace him,
    And gaze into his eye,
And feel his arms around me,
    Then I would gladly die.

"He is the man of mortals,
    The Odin of them all,
A higher Incarnation,
    The 'Menschheitsideal,'[82]
A being made to worship,
    To me an earthly Gott"--
"Py shings!" exglaim Hans Breitmann,
    "Dis ding is gettin hot!

"O laity! - nople gountess!
    Dis man of whom you dink
Ish lyin' here pefore you,
    Half tead for want of trink,
Likewise for lofe of you, too,
    Done up mit lofe and durst,
Und mit de two togeder,
    I don't know vitch is vorst.

"And dou canst safe dy hero
    From bitter Todespein,
If dou hast in de Keller
    Only one Fass of wein.
Nay, doubt not - in my pocket
    Is dot vitch brofes de man,
My bassport, und drei tavern bills
    Against der Breitemann."

De laity she emprace him
    Oontil he nearly bust.
"Potz-blitz!" gasp out der Breitmann,
    "She is a squeezer - yust!"
De dame she vas vealty,
    Likewise an orphan too,
Mit a castel und a titel,
    So Breitmann put it troo.

So soon the paar vere marrit,-
    Hei! vot a dimes dey had!
Hei! how dey life togeder
    So clorious und clad!
Now he has cot a titel
    Dot was a Capitan;
Hier hat de tale ein Ende
    Of Herr Count Breitemann.


COBUS HAGELSTEIN.

ICH bin ein Deutscher, und mein name is Cobus Hagelstein,[83]
I coom from Cincinnati, and I life peyond der Rhein;
Und I dells you all a shdory dot makes me mad ash blitz,
Pout how a Yankee gompany vas shvindle me to fits.

I heardt apout dis gompany, und vished to see dot same,
Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft vos ids name;
Dot is de name in Sherman - in English it will say
Dot it insures your life mit fire, ven you de money pay.

Now, I hod a liddle house-line vhere I life so shtill ash mice,
Und yoost drei tausand dollar vos dot little pilding's brice;
I vos always yoost so happy ash ein Kaisar in de land
Dill at last I kit in drople, for mein haus vas abgebrannt.

Den I goes undo dot gompany und dells em right afay
(Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft), und I say,
"At last de youngest day ist coom for you to plank de cash,
And you moost bay me monies, for mine haus is purned to ash."

Den de segredary answered, "All dis is fery drue,
Boot you know ve have de option to pild your house anew;
Dere ist a lot of beoples vot burns deir hauser doun,
Den coom to kit de money pack all over in de toun."

I look indo de bapers und I find it ash he say,
Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft need not bay;
So I dells em all to go ahet und pild anoder shdore,
Und dey make me von in Yankee shdyle more petter ash pefore.

Den I met der segredary dereafter on a day,
Of Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft, und he say,
"You've found oos vellers honoraple und honest in our line,
Vy tont you go insure de life of Madame Hagelstein?"

I poots mine dum oopon mine nose, and vinks him mit mine eye,
Und says I cooms to do it ven de ocean runs dry,
Ven gooses turn to ganders, und de bigs kits shanged to shvine;
Oh, den I makes insure de life of Madame Hagelstein.

"I haf dried you on insurance, ash you know, yust vonce pefore,
Und ven mein haus vas abgebrannt you pild anoder shdore;
Id's drue you pild it goot enough, boot I dell you allaweil,
I vas liket id moosh petter if it vas in Sharman shdyle.

"Now, if I goes insure my wife anoder dime mit you
Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft, I knows vot it would do,-
If from dis vorldt Frau Hagelstein should rise to Himmel life,
Inshtead of paying gelt you'd kit for me a Yankee vife!"

I poots mine dum pelow mine eye, und vinks him merrily,
Und say, "Go find soom Deutscherman dot is more creen ash me.
Dere's blendy of dem creen enough, I know, peyond der Rhein,
But none among dem wears de name of Cobus Hagelstein."


FRITZERL SCHNALL.

A BALLAD.

ASH on de Alapama biz,
    Deep sinnin long I sat,
I dinks von ding for dinkin
    Py afery Diplomat;
Und dat ist: dat voll many a ding
    Vot ist de facto done,
May pe de jure unbossible,
    Und officiel unknown,

Von dimes in San Franciscus,
    Im Californian land,
Among de Californaments
    Dere woned a Deutscher band;
Und shief among dese heroes
    Dere shone Herr Fritzerl Schnall,
Who nefer vouldt pelief in nichts
    Dat vas not logical.

Vell den: von tay as Fritzerl
    Vas valk Dolores Shtreet,
Mein Gott! how he vas over-rush
Ein gut oldt friendt to meet;
Hans Liederschnitz aus Augsburg,
    Vot professed in Bayrisch bier-
"Gottskreuz! du alter Schlingel!"
    Cried Fritz: "Was mochst du hier?"

Now in des dimes I scribe of,
    Dree ways der vere bakannt,
Und only dree, to get to
    Das Californigen Landt.
De virst de Plains coom ofer;
    De next, de Istmoos troo;
De dird aroundt Cape Horne,
    All ofer de ocean plue.

But de first lot of surveyors
    For de railroad overland,
Vas seek a new vay northwarts,
    All for de Eisenbahn,
Und mit dem, der professor
    Of Lager vent along;
So he kommed to San Franciscus,
    Und den into dis song.

But ash unto Herr Fritzerl
    Dis news vas unerheard,
He couldt not know de tidings
    Wherevon he had no vord;
Und derefore dis here quesdion
    He makes to Hans: "Old hoss,
I kess de vay you kit hier,
    You kommed de Blains agross?"

"Nein, nein," sayt Liederschnitzerl;
    "I komm not ash you say."
"Vell, den," antworded Fritzerl,
    "It pe's anoder vay.
If you komm de Blains not uber,
    I see vot you hafe do:
You make an longer um-way
    Und gross de Istmoos troo."

"Nein, nein," acain saidt Schnitzerl,
    "Dat road I nefer know,
Und vas not ride de Istmoose!"
    Cried Fritz, erstaunisched, "SO
You komm de Blains not uber,
    Nor gross de Istmoose troo?
Vell, den - to make de Horn aroundt
    Vas all dat you could do!"

"I shvears py Gott!" says Schnitzerl,
    "So sure as you vas porn,
Exshept oopon some ochsen
    I nefer saw a horn.
Dat ish - mitwiles, too - while-en--
    I hafe von in mine hand,
Und trink to dy Gesundheit,
    Im lieben Vaterland."

Erstaunished stoot der Fritzerl:
    No wort herout brought he:
Und sinned, und sinned - den sighftserd.
    "Potz blitz! how vash dis pe?"
Ontill a light from Himmel
    Vlash down into him shtraight,
Ash Heafen in Yacob Bohme
    Vlash from a bewter blate.

Den laut he cry, eye-shbarklin,
    Ash droonk mit Truth tifine,
Like der Wahrheitseher Novalis:
    "Herr Gott! es leuch't mir ein!
If you komm de Blains not over,
    Nor py Horn, nor py canal,
Den I shwears you dis, Hans Schnitzerl,
    Du bist not here at all!"

MORAL.

Go in for Wahrheit,
    Und for Pure Reason seek;
If it land you in a pog-hole,
    Den die dere - like a brick!
Gott brosber all logikers,
    Und pless deir nople breed;
Und so ist komm zu ende
    Dis Breitmanns letzte Lied.


THE GYPSY LOVER.

DOT vos a schwartz Zigeuner[84]
    Dot on a viddle played,
Und oonderneat' a fenster
    He mak't a serenade.

Dot vos a lofely gountess
    Who heardt de gypsy blay'n.
Said she, "Who make dot musik
    Vot sound so wunderscheen?"

Dot vos de schwartz Zigainer
    Who vos fery quick to twig;
Und he song a mournvoll pallad
    How his hearts vos proken - big!

Dot vos de lofely gountess
    Said, "Dell me who you are?"
He saidt, "Mein name is Janosch,
    De Lord of Temesvar."

Dot vos de lofely gountess
    Said, "Come more near to me,
I vants to dalk on piz'ness:
    I'll trow you down de key."

Dot vos de moon kept lightin'
    De gountess in her room,
Boot somedings moost have vrighten
    De minstrel tid not coom.

Dot vos a treadfool oudgry
    Ven early in de morn
Dey foundt de hens vos missin,
    Und all de wash vos gone!

Dot vos a schwartz Zigeuner
    Vot sot oopon de dirt
A-eatin roasted schickens
    All in a new glean shirt.


DORNENLIEDER.

I.

FOR efery Rose dot ploome in spring,
    Dey say an maid is porn;
For efery pain dot Rose vill make
    Dey say dere comes a dorn.
Boot let dem say yoost vot dey will,
    Dis ding I will soopose,
I'll immer prick mein finger still,
    If I may pfluck die Ros'.
        Ach, Rosalein, du schone mein,[85]
            Dot man vas nefer born
        Vot did deserfe to win de Rose,
            Vot couldt not stand de Dorn.

Blutfarbig ist die schone Ros',[86]
    Und dot ist yoost a sign
Dot I moost lose a liddle Blut
    To make de Rose mein.
Wer Rosen bricht die Finger sticht;
    Das ist mir ganz egal,
Der bricht sie auch in Winter nicht,
    Und kits no Rose at all.
Was wir hier treiben und kosen, love,
    De joy or misery,
Soll bleiben unter der Rosen, love!
    Und our own secret pe![87]

II.

Von Dorn ride out in hoonting gear,
Mit his horse und his Hunde too,
Und his mutter she say,
"Bring home a deer,
Mein Sohn, votefer you do!"
"You know, gewiss, dot I nefer miss,
Und ven you hear mine horn,
Pe sure dot a deer is comin' here,"
Said der Ritter Veit von Dorn,
        Mit his deer so fein, tra la la la!
        Mit his deer so fine, tra le!
        Tra la la - tra la la la!
        Tra la la - la la le!

Von Dorn he ridet im greenen wood
    Till dere, peneat a dree,
He sah a maid wie Milch und Blut.
    As fair ash a maid could pe.
Und der Ritter he spies her great plack eyes,
    "Id's petter, I'll pe shwore,
To hafe a dear oopon two feet
    Dan von dot roons on four.
        Mit a deer so fein, tra la la la!
        Mit a deer so fine, tra le!
        Tra la la - tra la la la!
        Tra la la - la de le!

Der Ritter ridet pack to home:
    "Ach, mutter - all ist goot;
I prings you here de finest dear
    In all de greene woot."
De mutter she looks, mit joy surprise,
    "Hast Recht, mein lieber Sohn;[88]
Dere vas nefer a deer vot hafe soosh eyes
    Ash de dear vot you hafe won!"
            Mit her eyes so plack, tra la, la la!
            Mit her eyes so plack, tra le!
            Tra, la, la - tra la, la, la!
            Tra la la - la de le!

Nota bene. - Dis song moost pe sung mit exbression.
                        - FRITZ SCHWACKENHAMMER
                            [Redaktor].


BREITMANN'S SLEIGH-RIDE.

VEN de winter make oos shifer
    Und de bonds is froze mit ice,
To shlide und shkate on de rifer,
    Mit de poys und gals is nice.
Ven de horses hafe deir bits on,
    Und de roats pe vite mit shnow,
To vly in a sleigh like blitzen
    Is de yolliest dings I know.

"Und its high, hooray!" saidt Breitmann
    "For de gals on de Dutchtown-side;
Und it's lebe hoch! for de yunglins,
    Vot'll go mit de gals to ride;
Und it's hip, herje! for de drifers
    Vot nefer dake no odds!
Und it's vivat! for de vellers,
    Vot'll shtand de apple-tods!"

Der Breitmann pooled his mits on,
    Der Breitmann crocked his vip,
"Now its fly like dunner blitzen,
    Mein shildren, let 'er rip!
Like de eagles on de shtorm-cloudt
    A-vlyin' to deir nest;
Dere is opple-yack a-vaitin
    For de von dot times de rest.

"Oh mein Rapp, du bist de pestest
    Of horses in de land!
Dou canst trafel on de grafel,
    Und canst shell it on de sand!
Oh Rapp! - dere's money on id,
    Ton't let de Gelt go blue!
I vants you show de beoples
    Dis tay vot you can do!"

Der Breitman mit his madchen
    Vas in a shblentit shleigh,
Fritz Laufer mit his Mina,
    Vas yoosht agross de vay;
Mit pop-slets und mit yoompers,
    Mit horses and mit mules,
Dere vas more ash vifty fellers
    Come mit deir ve-hi-cules.

Id's "Ein-Zwei-Drei!" togedder
    Dey hollered klein und gross,
Like de wind in shtormy wetter,
    Stracks vent de Deutschers los!
Dey crock de vips like mooskets,
    Dey ring from berg to berg,
"Hooray!" exsglaim Hans Breitmann:
    "Dot sounds like Gettysburg!"

Der Breitmann und der Laufer
    Vere half a mile ahet,
For ven id coom to driven,
    De oder Dootch vere deadt.
Dey vly like teufel's arrows,
    Mit imps oopon em gay,
Dey killt five hoondred shbarrows
    Vot kit indo de vay.

Dey vly like rats und blitzen,
    De fery gals vos doomb,
Und Breitmann kept his wits on,
    To see vot shanse vouldt coom;
He know'd de pace dey clipped it
    Moost enden in a shquall
By de vay der Laufer ripped it,
    Und de shteeds vere ganz egal.

Der Laufer he vos leadin'
    Hans Breitmann ash he goed,
Boot he tidn't see a soplin'
    Dot vos lyin' in de road.
Id yank dem out like marples,
    Mitout a will or shall;
Hets downvarts in a shnow-pank,
    Vent Laufer mit his gal.

Und ash Breitmann comed oonto it
    Id kit indo his vay,
Und tossed him mit his madchen
    Right indo Laufer's shleigh;
Hans crab de reins like blitze',
    Und go ahet like sin:
"Adje, mein lieber Fritze![89]
    Dis dimes I scoop you in!"

He vly avay like shvallows
    To vhere a davern lay,
Vhere de opple-tod vos ploomin'
    Among de Deutschers gay.
Der Breitmann as he vonisht
    Yoost cast von look pehind,
At de lecks of Fritz - und Mina-
    A-vafin in de wind.

Homburg vor der Hohe, Hesse-Nassau,
        September 1, 1888.


THE MAGIC SHOES.

IT was stiller, dimmer twilight - amber toornin' into gold,
Like young maidens' hairs get yellow und more dark as dey crow old;
Und dere shtood a high ruine vhere de Donau rooshed along,
All lofely, yet neclected - like an oldt und silent song.

Out shpoke der Ritter Breitmann, "Ven I hafe not forgot,
Ich kenn an anciendt shtory of dis inderesdin shpot,
Of the Deutscher Middleolter vot de Minnesingers sung,
Ven dot olt ruine oben vas a-bloomin, fair, und yung.

"Vonce dere lifed a noble fraulein - fery peautiful vas she,
More ash twendy dimes goot lookin - it is in de historie;
Und mit more ash forty quarters on her woppenshield,[90] dot men
Might beholdt mitout a discount she vas of de upper ten.

"But dough lofely as an angel, mit eyes of turkos plue,
She vas cruel ash a teufel, und de vorst man efer knew.
Vonce ven a nople young one kneeled down to her mit lofe,
She kicket him mit her slipper und oopset him on de shtove.

"Und said, 'I do refuse you, as you may plainly see;
Und from dis day henseforvart mine refuse you shall pe,
Und when I do run afder you like dogs run afder men,
Den I vill pe your vife, yung man - boot keep avay dill denn!'

"He lishten to her crimly, and no single vort he said,
Boot de bitter dings she spoken poot der teufel in his head;
For she hafe not learned de visdom, vich is alvays safe and sound,
'Don't go to pourin' water on a mouse ven id ist trowned.'

"Vonce, at de end of autoom, ven de vind vos bitter cold,
Dis maiden out a-ridin' met a voman poor and old;
Her feets vere bare and pleedin', and she said, 'Ah! ton't refuse
To gife me, nople lady, yoosht de vorst of your oldt shoes!'

"De lady boorst out laughin', 'Fool here, or fool me dere,
You give to me a couple, I gives to you a pair.'
Denn she rode avay a-laughin'; de old voman says 'I wete,
I'll give you shoes, my lady, dot vill fit your soul and feet!'

"Dis voman vas a vitche, an bitter one dere to,
All dot vot she had shpoken she light enough could do;
De Ritter did not know it, but he told her of his love,
And how dot shkornful lady hat oopset him mit de shtove.

"Out spoke de grimme witche, 'She shall pay dee well to boot,
If yo pring to me de measure of dat lady's liddle foot.'
He got it from her shoemaker, and gafe id to de vitch,
Denn she gafe it to de damsel pooty soon as hot as pitch.

"Von morn de lofely lady, on openin' her toor,
Found de nicest pair of gaiter boots she efer saw pefore;
Dey vitted her exoctly - mitouten any doubt-
Boot, mein Gott! how she vas shrocken ven dey 'gun to valk apout!

"Und ash de poots go valkin', like de buds go mit de stem,
It vollowed dot de lady had to valk apout in dem.
Dey took her out into de street - dey run her on de road,
Bym-by she saw a man ahead vot led her vhere she goed.

"Vhen he vent valkin' longsome denn longsome vas her pace,
Vhen he roon like a greyhound she skompered in a race;
He led her o'er de moundains und cross de lonely plain,
Until de evenin' shadows, ven he took her home again.

"Denn she dink mit hate and fury of dis man she used to skoff,
Und den go at de gaiters - boot she couldn't pull dem off,
She vork mit all de servants, boot 'tvasent any use,
Und so she hafe to go to bett - a-shleepin' in her shoes.

"Next mornin' off dey shtarted, apout de broke of day,
Den he led her to a castle in de woods and far away,
And shpeak to her, 'My lady - I dink at last you see
Dat de dime has come in earnesdt vhen you've cot to vollow me!'

"Oh vat ish female nature?  Oh vat ish mortal pride?
How all dot shtands de firmest most quickly shlips aside
De cloudts dot o'er de moundains look shkornful at de plain,
Ere long mit shtormy wetter come toomble down in rain.

"So de storm-cloud of Superbia vhich shweep her soul above,
Vas meltet mit his shternness and be-turned into love,
As his words like donner wetter croshed ven de lightnin' flies,
So downward coom de torrents of dear trops from her eyes.

"Und she gry, 'Mit shame I own it, to say de fery least,
I gonfess dat in dis matter I hafe acted like a peast;
Ven I made of you my refuse, I dinked it no account,
But now de pack is on my back it seems a big amount.

"'But if you vish to ved me, I vill do vat you require.
He answered, 'Now you're talkin' - dot is yoost vot I tesire,
For I am very willin', and you do not refuse,
Boot remember vot you bromised - send de vitch a pair of shoes!'

"She answered, 'I vill follow verever you may go,
All ofer hills and falleys, in sunshine, rain, or schnow,
All over in der Welt, dear, I'll vander on vith thee,
I do not care how rough de road or dark de path may be!

"'Or in de bloomin' meadows, vhere de grass is soft and sweet,
Or in de rocky passes, vhere de stones are under veet,
Or if I vear de shoes, love, vitch you hafe given me,
Or if I moost go barefoot, is all de same to me.'

"He drew away de gaiters.  She said, 'As I'm rich
I vill fill dem both mit money, and take dem to de vitch.'
Ja wohl, she saw die Hexe, and takin' her aside,
She danked her for de lesson vot hat dook avay her pride.

"On de vay vhen dey vere married, how vere dey all erstaun
To see a lofely lady come in mit golden crown,
All in a rosy-silken dress vot shined as pright as glass,
Said, 'My dears, I am de vitch dot fetch dis ding to pass.

"'You know I look so ogly vonce, und now am peautiful,
Dot ist de vay dot all dings vork ven folks pe dutiful.
Ash de lily toorns to vhitey vot once vas dirty green,
So all ist fair ven virdue ist runnin' de machine.'"

Dis is de vondrous shtory vot de Ritter Breitmann told
Besides the rooshin' Danube of de schloss so grey und old,
Vhile a shmokin' of his meerschaum; und till all time pe gone
The rustlin' of de vasser tells de tale for ever on.

Dat is an alt legende, und yet 'tis efer new,
Und to efery von dot hears it it fits yoost like a shoe.
Und dis de shinin' moral dot in de oyster lies-
Some day you may roon after de dings you vonce despise!

Vienna, 1888.


Glossary

THIS Glossary was prepared entirely by Mr. NICHOLAS TRUBNER.  I
am not aware that he had any assistance in writing it.  I mention
this because I have never met with any person who was so equally
familiar with obscure and obsolete old German facetious
literature (as the text indicates), and at the same time with
Americanisms.  I should say that in all of the later ballads, or
at least in fully one half of all in the book, the author was
indebted to him for ideas, suggestions, and emendations, and that
the work would never have been what it is - sit verbo venia - but
for him.  Mr. Trubner was a poet, even in English, as his
translation from Scheffel's poems indicates.  A very few words
have been added to explain the poems in the ballads which appear
for the first time in this edition.

CHARLES G. LELAND.
GLOSSARY
--------------

Abenddammerung,(Ger.) - Evening dim light; twilight.
Abendgold,(Ger.) - Evening gold.
Abendroth,(Ger.) - Evening red.
Abendsonnenschein,(Ger.) - Evening sunshine.
Abbordez-moi vodre mere,(German-French) - Bring me your mayor.
Ach weh,(Ger.) - Oh, woe.
Allatag,(Ger. dial.) - Every day.
Alla weil - All the while; always.
Allegader - All together.
Alles wird ewig zu eins,(Ger.) - And all for ever becomes one.
Alter Schwed',(old Swede) - A familiar phrase like "old fellow."
Anamile,(Amer.) - Animal.
Annerthalb Yar, Anderthalb Jahr,(Ger.) - Year and a half.
Anti Word: Antwort - Answer.
Antworded,(Ger.) - Answered.
Apple-tod,(Amer.) - Apple toddy.  Spirit distilled from cider.
Arbeiterhalle - Working-man's hall.
Arminius,(Herman.) - The Duke of the Cheruskans, and destroyer of
    the Roman legions under Varus, in the Teutoburg Forest.
Armlos - Unarmed.
Aroom, Herum - Around.
Arriere pensee,(Fr.) - A reserved thought or intention.
Aufgespannt,(Ger.) - Stretched, bent.
Augen,(Ger.) - Eyes.
Augenblick,(Ger.) - Twinkling of an eye.
Aus,(Ger.) - Out.

Bach,(Ger.) - Book.
Baender-box - Band-box.
Baldface corn,(Amer.) - Plain maize whisky.
Barell-hell pars - Parallel-bars; a part of the gymnastic
    apparatus.
Barrick,(Pennsylvania Ger. for Berg) - Mountain.
Bauern,(Ger.) - Peasants.
Be-ghostet,(Ger. Begeistert) - Inspired.
Begifted, - Beschenkt - Gifted.
Begreifen,(Ger.) - Understand.
Beheaded, Behauptet,(Ger.) - Asserted.
Bei Leib und Leben,(Ger.) - By my body and soul.
Bekannt, Beknown - Known.
Bellin,(Ger. Bellen) - To bark.
Bemarket,(Ger.-Eng.) - Remarked.
Be-mark,(Ger. Bemarken) - Observe.
Bemarks,(Ger. Bemerkungen) - Remarks.
Bemerkbar,(Ger.) - Observable.  Should be noticed.
Bemoost,(Ger.) - Mossgrown, in student's language, ein bemoostes
        Haupt, an old student.
Bender,(Amer.) - A spree; a frolic.  To "go on a bender" -
        to go on a spree.
Be-raised - Raised, with the augment, literal for Ger. erhoben.
Berauscht,(Ger.) - Intoxicated.
Besoffen,(Ger.) - Drunk.
Bestimmung des Menschen - Vocation of Man, title of one
        of Fichte's works.
Betaubend,(Ger.) - Enchanting.
Bewises,(Ger. Beweist, from Beweisen) - Proves.
Bibliothek - Library.
Bienenkorb,(Ger.) - Beehive.
Birra gazzosa,(Italian) - Aerated, gaseous beer.
Bischof,(Ger.) - Bishop.
Bix Buchse,(box) - Rifle.  Bess in Brown Bess is the equivalent
        of the German Buchse, (Brown being merely an alliterative
        epithet;) French, buse tube; Flemish, buis.  (Still
        found in blunderbuss, arquebuss.)  See Blackley's "Word Gossip."
Blaetter,(Ger.) - Leaves.
Blei - Lead.
Blitz,(Ger.) - Lightning.
Blitzen,(Ger.) - Lightning.
Blokes,(English) - Men.
Bock - A strong kind of German beer.
Boemisch - Bohemian.
Boerenvolk,(Flem.) - Peasants.
Bole Jack road - Near Murfreesboro, Tennessee.
Bool - Bull.
Bornirtheit - Limitedness of capacity.
Bouleverse - Boulevard.
Bountiee,(Amer.) - Bounty-money paid during the war as a premium
        to soldiers.  To jump the bounty, was to secure the premium and
        then run away.
                "This is the song of Billy Jones,
                Who jumped the boun-ti-ee."
                        - American Ballad of 1846.
Bowery - A street at New York, inhabited principally by Germans.
Branntewein,(Ger.) - Spirits.
Brandy smash,(Amer.) - A plain half-glass mint julep of only
        sugar,ice, spirits, and mint.  A regular julep is larger, and
        contains more ingredients.
Brav,(Ger.) - Good.
Breit,(Ger.) - Broad.
Bring it down to dots - Reduce it to figures.
Brisner - Prisoner.
Broosh-pinder - Brushbinder,(Ger. Buerstenbinder.) -
        Brushmaker. The brushmakers are supposed, probably on account
        of their throat-parching business, to be always thirsty.
Brummed - growled - (Ger. Brummen).
Brucke,(Ger.) - Bridge.
Bugs - In America all insects, especially Coleoptera.
Bummer,(Amer.) - A fellow haunting low taverns; applied during
        the late civil war in the United States to hangers-on of the
army.  Probably a corruption of the German bummler(loafer).
Bumming - From Bummer.
Bushwhackers - Guerillas.
Bust his shell - Broke his head.
Butterbrod,(Ger.) - Buttered bread.
By-Nearly; Beinahe - Almost, nearly.

Came - Game.
Camine - Chimney-piece.
Canyon,(Span. Canon) - A narrow passage between high and
        precipitous banks, formed by mountains or tablelands, often
with a river running beneath.  These occur in the great Western
prairies, New Mexico, and California.
Carmagnole - A wild street dance.
Carmosine,(Ger.) - Crimson.  French, cramoisoi.
Carnadine - Incarnadine.
Change their lodge - Shift from one "society" to another.
Chroc, Chrocus, Crocus - An Alemannic leader, who overran Gaul,
        according to Gregory of Tours.
Chunk - A short thick piece of wood, or of anything else; a chump.
        The word is provincial in England, and colloquial in the United
States.
Cinder - Suende; sin.
Clam - The popular name of a bivalvular shell-fish, the Venus.
Clavier,(Ger.) - Piano.
Colle belle,(Ital.) - With the beauties.
Comedy - Committee.
Conradin - The last of the imperial house of the Hohenstaufen -
        beheaded at Naples in 1268.
Coot - (To cut) a dash, (to come out a "swell,")
        to dress extravagantly.
Corned,(Amer.) - Made drunk.
Coster - The inventor of the art of printing, according
        to the Dutch.
Crate - Great.
Crecian pend - When Breitmann says "Dat pend of the bow ish
        the Crecian pend," it is a rather eqivocal compliment.
        "Grecian bend" has lately become a common newspaper
        expression.  Smuggling done by women is called a "Case of
        Grecian bend."  The present style of skirt, full at the back,
        is favourable to it.
Crislies - Grisly,(bear.)

Da ist er! Schau! - There he is! look!
Damit,(Ger.) - Therewith.
Dampfschiff - Steamboat.
Deck - A pack of cards, piled one upon another.
Demperanceler, Temperenzler - Temperance man.
Dessauerinn - A woman from Dessau.
Deutschland - Germany.
Die Hexe - The witch.
Die wile as mohte leben - During all its life.
                Daz wolde er immer dienen
                Die wile es mohte leben.
                    - Kutrun. XV. Aventiure, 756th verse.
Dink - he, they think; my dinks - my thoughts.
Dinked - he, they thought.
Dishtriputet - Instead of attributed.
Dissembulatin' - Dissembling.
Dissolfed - Instead of resolved.
D'lusion - Instead of allusion.
Donnered,(Ger.) - Thundered.
Donnerwetter,(Ger.) - Thunder and lightning.
Dooks - Ducks.
Doon - Tune.
Doonderblix - Thunder and lightning.
Dorn - A thorn.  Dorn lieder - Thorn-songs.
Drawed he in - (literal rendering of the German Zog er ein,)
Dreimal,(Ger.) - Three times.
Drocks - Drakes, dragons; (Ger. Drachen.)
Druckerei - Printing-office.
Dummehrlichkeit,(Ger.) - Honest simplicity.
Dunkelheit - Darkness.
Dursty,(Ger. Durstig) - Thirsty.

Earnsthaft, ernsthaft - Serious.
Eber,(Ger.) - Wild boar.
Eberschwein,(Ger.) - Wild boar.
Eckhartshausen - A German supernaturalist.
Eher,(Ger.) - Sooner.  In the dialect it has the meaning
        of "before."
Einander to sprechen mit,(Ger.) - To speak together.
Eins, zwei, drei - One, two, three.
Einsichen, to take up one's abode with.
Eldern,(Ger. Eltern) - Parents.
Elfenbein,(Ger.) - Ivory.
Emerich - King Emerich, hero of a German legend.
Emsig Gruebler,(Ger.) - Assiduous inquirer.
Engel,(Ger.) - Angel.
Englandrinn,(Ger.) - English woman.
Entlang,(Ger.) - Along.
Erfinder,(Ger.) - Inventor.
Erfounden,(Ger. Erfunden) - Invented.
Ergeben,(Ger.) - Resigned.
Error-dom, Irrthum - Error.
Erstaun, Erstaunished, erstaunt - Astonished.
Erstarrt,(Ger.) - Aghast.
Erwaitin',(Ger. Erwartend) - Awaiting, expecting.
Euchre, Eucre - Sort of game played with cards, very much in vogue
        in the West.
Euchred - From Euchre, the game of cards.

Fackeltantz,(Ger.) - Torch dance.
Fancy craps or crabs - Fast horses.
Fanes, Wetterfahnen - Weathercocks.
Fass,(Ger.) - Barrel.
Fat - Printer's term.
Feldwebel,(Ger.) - A sergeant.
Feinslieb,(Ger.) - Fair or fine love.
Fenster - A window.
Fichte - A German philosopher.
Finster,(Ger.) - Dark, dismal.
Foal - Full.
Foll - To fall.
Foon - Fun.
Foors - First.
Fore-by - Literal translation of the German Vorbei.
Fore-lying - Literal translation of Vorliegend.
Foreschlag,(Ger. Vorschlag) - Proposal.
Foresetzen - To set, put (lay) before an audience.
Foxen,(Ger. Fuchsen) - Foxes.
Frank-tiroir - Franc-tireur.
Francois Villon - An old French humorous poet, whom Boileau
        speaks of as the first who began to write truly modern French.
Frau,(Ger.) - Woman.
Freie,(Ger.) - Free.
Freischarlinger,(Ger. Freischaerler) - A member of a Free Corps;
        especially applied to those who belonged to the Free Corps
        formed in Southern Germany during the Revolution in 1848.
Freischuetz,(Ger.) - Free shot, one who shoots with charmed
        bullets, the name of Karl Maria Von Weber's celebrated opera.
Friederich Rothbart - Frederic Barbarossa, the great Emperor of
        Germany and one of the German legendary heroes.  He is supposed
        to sleep in the Kyffhauser in Thuringia, and to awaken one day,
        when he will bring great glory over Germany.
Frolic - Frohlich, merry.
Froze to de ready - Held fast to the money.
Fullenden - Vollenden - To complete, perfect.
Fuss,(Ger.) - Foot.
Fust or Faust - The partner of Gutemberg, the inventor of the
        art of printing.

Gambrinus - A mythical King of Brabant, supposed to have been
        the inventor of beer.
Gandertate - Candidate.
Ganz,(Ger.) - Ganz.
Gans egal - Quite the same.
Ganz und gar,(Ger.) - Altogether, all over.
Garce,(French) - Wench.
Gass und Strass,(Ger.) - Lane and street.
Gast,(Ger.) - Guest.
Gasbalgs - Bladder of gas.
Gauer - Valleys.
Gaul darn - G-- ---n.
Gaul dern - A Yankee oath.
Gauner-sprache,(Ger.) - Thieves' language.
Ge-bildet - Built, with the German augment.
Ge-birt',(Ger. Geburt) - Birth.
Geborn - Born, with the augment.
Ge-brudert,(formed like ge-schwister,) - Brothers.
Geh hin mein Puch,(German of the 16th century).
Gehst nit mit rechten Dingen zu - Dost not do it by any natural
        means; there is witchcraft in it.
Gekommene - Arrived(newly arrived).
Gekommen so,(Ger.) - Come thus.
Ge-kostet - Cost, with the German augment.)
Gesangverein,(Ger.) - Singing-society.
Ge-screech, Geschrei - Bawling, clamour.
Gesembled - Assembled, with the augment of the German preterite.
Geshmasht - Smashed, with German augment.
Gespickt,(Ger.) - Larded.
Gestohlen - Stolen.
Gestohlen und bekannt,(Ger.) - Stolen, and known.
Gesundheit,(Ger.) - Health.
Gewehr,(Ger.) - Musket.
Gewiss - Certainly.
Gift,(Ger.) - Poison.
Gilt - In the ordinary sense, and also in the same verse, "gilt,"
        implying the meaning of the German verb "gelten," to be worth
        something, and also guilt.
Glamour - Ocular deception by magic.
Glee-wine, Glueh-wein - Hot-spiced wine.
Glucky,(Ger. Gluecklich) - Lucky.
Glueck,(Ger.) - Luck.
Goblum - For goblin.
Gool - Cool.
Gottallmachty, (Ger. Gottallmachtig) - God Almighty.
Gottashe - Cottage.
Gotteshaus,(Ger.) - House of God.
Gott-full, gottvoll - Glorious, divine.
Gottsdonnerkreuzschockschwerenoth,(Ger.) - Another variety of big
        swearing.
Gott's-doonder,(Ger. Gott's donner) - God's thunder.  See also
        Gott's tausend, a thundering sort of oath, but never preceded
by lightning, for it is only used as a kind of expletive to
express great surprise, or to give great emphasis to words
which, without it, would seem to be capable of none.
Gottstausend,(Ger.) - An abbreviation of Gott's tausend
        donnerwetter (God's thousand thunders), and therefore the
comparative of Gott's doonder; with most of those who use it a
meaningless phrase.
Gott weiss,(Ger.) - God knows!
Go von - Go one, bet on him.
Grillers - Guerillas.
Grod, gerad - Straight.
Gros,(Ger.) - Great.
Guestfriendlich, gastfreundlich - Hospitable.
Gummi lasticum - India rubber.
Gutemberg - The inventor of the art of printing.
Guve - Southern slang for give.  Guv, for give, is also
        English slang as well as American.
Gyrotwistive - Snaky.

Hab' und Guter,(Ger.) - Property.
Hagel! Blitz! Kreuz Sakrament!(Ger.) - Another variety of swearing.
Halberthier, for Halberdier - Halberthier means half an animal.
Hand-shoe,(Ger. Handschuh) - Glove.
Hans Michel - A popular but not complimentary name for Germany.
Hans Wurst - Merry Andrew; Zani; Jack Pudding - the latter word
        being a literal translation of the German Hans Wurst; the
        pudding in either case referring to the sausages, or the
        pretended sausage, which the Merry Andrew always appeared to
        be swallowing by the yard or fathom.  See Blackley's "Word
        Gossip."
Harmlos,(Ger.) - Harmless.
Haul de pot - Take the stakes.
Hause - House.
Hegel - Name of the German philosopher.
Heine, Heinrich - German poet.
Heini von Steier - Heinrich von Ofterdingen.
Heldenbuch - Is the title of a collection of epic poems, belonging
    to the cycle of the German Saga.
Heller Glorie schein - Bright gloriole.
Hereauf, hierauf - Thereupon.
Herout,(Ger. Heraus) - Out.
Herr Je,(Ger.) - An abbreviation of Herr Jesus (O
        Lord!); generally only used by those who are fond of
        meaningless exclamations.
Her-re-liche, herrliche - Superb, grand, noble.
Hertsen - Herzen; hearts.
Hertzhog, Herzog,(Ger.) - Duke.
Herzlich,(Ger.) - Hearty.
Herzbruder,(Ger.) - Heart's brother.
Hexerei - Witchery, sorcery.
Himmel,(Ger.) - Heaven.
Himmels-Potz-Pumpen-Herrgott - A mild sort of a German imprecation,
        untranslatable.
Himmlisch' hoellisch' qual,(Ger.) - Heavenly-hellish pain.
Hip Herje! - A common interjection.
Hobbiness - Happiness.
Hoellisch,(Ger.) - Hellish.
Honey fooglin', Honeyfuggle - Is believed to be English
        slang.  In America it means blarneying, deceiving.
Hoockle perry, persimmoned - "A huckle-berry over my
        persimmon." Surpassed, out-done.
Hoof-irons,(Huf-eisen in Ger.) - Horse-shoe.
Hoofstad,(Flem.) - Capita.
Hop-sosa,(Ger.)int. - Hop; heyday!
Hunde - Dog.
Hundsfott,(Ger. Vulg.) - Mean scoundrel, hound.
Hunk,(Amer.) - Stout, solid, profitable.  "To be all hunk" means to
        come out of a speculation with advantage.  To be well off.
Hut,(Ger.) - Hat.

I Gili romaneskro - This song is written in the German gipsy
        dialect.  Eh! in third line of second verse, is the
        German word ehe, "ere," or before.  Kuribente
        ("in war,") is in the Slavonic and gipsy local case,
        or as Pott calls it (Die Zigeuner in Europa und Asien)
        the Second Dative.
Ik leven,(Flem.) - I live.
Il diavolo in carnato,(Ital.) - The devil incarnate or in
        carnation.
Immer - Ever.
In geburst - Burst.
In Sang und Klang dein Leben lang,(Ger.) - In music and song all
        thy life long.
Ita dixit,(Latin) - So said.

Jeff - A game played by throwing up types, generally for
        "refreshments."
Joss-stick - A name given to small reeds, covered with the dust of
        odiferous woods, which the Chinese burn before their idols.
Jungfernkranz,(Ger.) - Bridal garland.

Kaiser Karl - Charlemagne.
Kalt,(Ger.) - Cold.
Kanaster,(Ger.) - Canaster tobacco.
Kan ik.  Ik kan,(Flem.) - I can.
Karfunkelstein,(Ger.) - Carbuncle.
Kartoffel,(Ger.) - Potato.
Kauder-Waelsch,(Ger.) - Gibberish.
Kellner,(Ger.) - Waiter.
Kermes - Annual Fair.
Kinder,(Ger.) - Children.
Kitin, a kitin - Flying or running rapidly.
Klein und gross - Small and great.
Kloster,(Ger.) - Cloister.
Knasterbart,(Ger.) - Literally, tobacco-beard; perhaps denoting a
        good old fellow, fond of his pipe.
Kneiperei,(Ger.) - Revel.
Knock dem out de shpots - Knock the spots out of them; astonish
        them.
Koenig Etzel - King Attila.
Komm maidelein!  Rothe waengelein,(Ger.) - Come maiden, red cheeks.
Kong,(Ger. Konig) - Old Norse for king.
Kooken - Cake.
Kop,(Ger. Kopf) - Head.
Kreutzer - Frederick Creutzer, distinguished professor in the
        University of Heidelberg, author of a great work on "Symbolik."
Krumm,(Ger.) - Crooked.
Kummel,(Ger.) - Cumin brandy.
Kummel, kimmel,(Ger.) - Schnapps, dram.  Hans, in his tipsy
        enthusiasm, ejaculates, "Oh, mein Gott in Kimmel!" instead of
        "im Himmel" (heaven), becoming guilty of an unconscious
        alliteration, and confessing, according to the proverb in
        vino veritas, where his God really abides; "whose God is
        their belly."
Kunster,(Ger.) - Sacristan.

Lanze,(Ger.) - Lance.
Lager, Lagerbeer, (Ger. Lagerbier, i.e., Stockbeer) - Sometimes in
        these poems abbreviated into Lager.  A kind of beer introduced
        into the American cities by the Germans, and now much in vogue
        among all classes.
Lager Wirthschaft,(Ger.) - Beerhouse.
Laibgartner,(Ger.) - Liebgard; bodyguard.  The Swiss in blundering
        makes it "body-gardener."
Lam - To drub, beat soundly.
Larmen - The French word larmes, tears, made into a German verb.
Lateinisch - Latin.
Laughen, lachen - Laughing.
Lavergne - A place between Nashville and Murfreesboro', in the
        state of Tennessee.
Lebe hoch! - Hurrah!
Leben - Life; living.
Lebenlang,(Ger.) - Life-long.
Lev'st du nock? - Liv'st thou yet?
Libby - The notorious Confederate prison at Richmond, Va.
Liddle Pills - Little bills, Legislative enactments.
Lieblich,(Ger.) - Charming.
Liedeken,(Flem.) - Song.
Lieder, Lieds,(Ger.) - Songs.
Liederkranz,(Ger.) - Glee-union.
Liederlich,(Ger.) - Loose, reckless, dissolute.
Lighthood,(Ger. Lichtheit) - Light.
Like spiders down their webs - Breitmann's soldiers are supposed to
        have been expert turners or gymnasts.)
Loafer,(Amer.) - A term which, considered as the German
        pronunciation of lover, is a close translation of
        rom, since this latter means both a gipsy and a
        husband.
Los, los gehen,(Ger.) - To go at a thing, at somebody.
Loosty,(Ger. Lustig) - Jolly, merry.
Loudet,(Lauten in Ger.) - To make sound.
L'Ubbriacone,(Ital.) - Drunkard.
Luftballon,(Ger.) - Air-balloon.
Lump,(Ger.) - Ragamuffin.
Lumpenglocke - An abusive term applied to bells, especially to
        those which are rung to give notice that the beer-houses must
        close.

Madel,(Ger.) - Girl.
Maedchen,(Ger.) - Girl, maiden.
Markgraefler - A pleasant light wine grown in the Grand Duchy
        of Baden.
Marmorbild - Marble statue.
Maskenzug,(Ger.) - Procession of masked persons.
Massenversammlung,(Ger.) - Mass meeting.
Mein Freund - My friend.
Mein Sohn - My son.
Meine Seel',(Ger.) - By my soul.
Meisjes,(Flem.) - Girls.
Middleolter(Mittelaelter) - The Middle Ages.
Mijn lief gesellen,(Flem.) - My dear comrades.
Mineted - Minded.
Minnesinger - Poet of love.  A name given to German lyric poets,
        who flourished from the twelfth to the fourteenth centuries.
Mist-hauf,(Ger.) - Dung-hill.
Mit hoontin knife, &c.:-
            "With her white hands so lovely,
            She dug the Count his grave.
            From her dark eyes sad weeping,
            The holy water she gave."
                    - Old German Ballad.
Mitout - Without.
Mitternight, Mitternacht - Midnight.
Mitternocht, Mitternacht - Midnight.
Mohr, ein schwarzer,(Ger.) - A blackamoor.
Moleschott - Author of a celebrated work on physiology.
Mondenlight - Moonlight.
Mondenschein,(Ger.) - Moonlight.
Morgan - John Morgan, a notorious Confederate guerilla during the
        late war in America.
Morgen-het-ache - Morning headache.
Moskopolite,(Amer.) - Cosmopolite.  Mossyhead is the German student
        phrase for an old student.
Mud-sill - The longitudinal timber laid upon the ground to form the
        foundation for a railway.  Hence figuratively applied by the
        labour-despising Southern gentry to the labouring classes as
        the substratum of society.
Murmulte - Murmured.
Mutter,(Ger.) - Mother.

Naturalizationisds - The officers, &c., who give the rights of
        native citizens to foreigners.
Nibelungen Lied - The lay of the Nibelungen; the great German
        national epos.
Nieuw Jarsie - New Jersey, in America, famous inter alia for its
        sandy beaches and high surf.
Nig - Nigger.
Nirwana - The Brahminical absorption into God.
Nix,(Ger. Nichts) - Nothing.
Nix cum raus - That I had not come out.
No sardine - Not a narrow-minded, small-hearted fellow.
Norate - To speak in an oration.
Noth,(Ger.) - Need, dire extremity.  Das war des Breitmann's Noth,
        -That was Breitmann's sore trial.  Imitated from the last line
of the Nibelungen Lied.
Nun - Now.
Nun endlich,(Ger.) - Now at last.

O'Brady - An Irish giant.
Ochsen,(Ger.) - Oxen; stupid fellows.  As a verb it also is used
        familiarly to mean hard study.
Odenwald - A thickly-wooded district in South Germany.
Oder - Other.  See Preface.
Oltra tramontane; ultra tramontane - Applied to the non-Italian
        Catholic party.
On-belongs - Literal translation of Zugehort.
On de snap - All at once.
On-did to on-do - Literal translation of the German
        anthun; to donn, to put on.
Onfang,(Ger. Anfang) - Beginning.
Oonendly - Unendlich.
Oonshpeakbarly,(Ger. unaussprechbarlich) - Inexpressibly.
Oop-gecleared,(Ger. Aufgeklaert) - Enlightened.
Ooprighty,(Ger. Aufrichtig) - Upright.
Oopright-hood,(Ger. Aufrichtigkeit) - Uprightness.
Oop-sproong - For aufsprung.
Opple-yack - Apple-jack.  Spirit distilled from cider.
Orgel-ton,(Ger.) - Organ sound.
Orkester - Orchestra.
Out-ge-poke-te - Out-poked.
Out-signed,(Ger. ausgezeichnete) - Distinguished, signal.
Out-sprach - Outspoke.
Over again - Uebrigen.

Paardeken,(Flemish) - Palfrey.
Pabst, Der Pabst lebt, &c. - "The Pope he leads a happy life," &c.,
        beginning of a popular German song.
Palact,(Ger. Pallast) - Palace.
Peke - Belgian rye whisky.
Peeps - People.  "Hard on the American peeps" - a phrase for
        anything exacting or severely pressing.
Pelznickel, Nick, Nickel - St. Nicolas, muffled in fur, is one of
        the few riders in the army of the saints, but, unlike St.
        George and St. Martin, he oftener rides a donkey than a horse,
        more especially in that part of the German land which can boast
        of having given birth to the illustrious Hans.  St. Nicolas is
        supposed, on the night preceding his name-day, the sixth of
        December, to pass over the house-tops on his long-eared steed,
        and having baskets suspended on either side filled with sweets
        and playthings, and to drop down through the chimneys presents
        for those children who have been good during the year, but
        birch-rods for those who have been naughty, would not go to bed
        early, or objected to being washed, &c.  In the expectation of
        his coming, the children put, on the eve of St. Nicolas' day,
        either a shoe, or a stocking, or a little basket, into the
        chimney-piece of their parents' bedroom.  We may remark, by the
        way, that St. Nicolas is the Christian successor of the heathen
        Nikudr, of ancient German mythology.
Pesser, besser,(Ger.) - Better.
Pestain - Stain, with the augment.
Pfaelzer - A man from the Rhenish Palatinate.
Pfeil,(Ger.) - Arrow.
Philosopede - Velocipede.
Pickel-haube,(Ger.) - The spiked helmet worn by Prussian soldiers.
Pie the forms - Break and scatter the forms of types - the greatest
        disaster conceivable to a true typo.
Pig-sticker - Bowie-knife.
Pile-out,(Amer.) - Hurry out.
Pimeby - By and by.
"Plain" - Water plain, i.e., unmixed.
Plue goats - Blue coats, soldiers.
Plug-muss - Fight for a fire-plug.  American fireman's language.
Pokal, (Poculum) - Goblet.
Poker - A favourite game of cards among Western gamblers.
Poonkin - Pumpkin.
Pop-slets - Bob-sleds.  A very rough kind of sledge.
Potzblitz,(Ger.) - int., The deuce.
Potztausend!  Was ist das? - Zounds!  What is that?
Poulderie - Poultry.
Poussiren - To court.
Pretzel,(Ger.) - A kind of fancy bread, twist or the like.
Prezackly - Pre(cisely), exactly.
Protocollirt, protocolliren - To register, record.
Pully, i.e., Bully - An Americanism, adjective.  Fine,
        capital.  A slang word, used in the same manner as the
        English used the word crack; as, "a bully
        horse," "a bully picture."
Pumpernickel - A heavy, hard sort of rye-bread, made in Westphalia.
Put der Konig troo - To put through, (Amer.), to qualify, to
        imitate.
Pye - To buy.

Rapp(Rappe) - A black horse.
Raushlin', rauschend - Rustling.
Reb - An abbreviation of rebel.
Redakteur - Editor.
Red cock - Or make de red cock crow.  Einem den rothen
        Hahn aufs Dach setzen.  A German proverb signifying to set
        fire to a house.
Rede,(Ger.) - Speech.
Red-Waelsch, Roth-Waelsch,(Ger.) - Thieves' language.
Reiten gaen,(Flemish) - Go riding.
Reiter,(Ger.) - Rider.
Reiver - Robber.
Reue,(Ger.) - Repentance.
Rheingraf,(Ger.) - Count of the Rhine districts.
Rheinweinbechers Klang - The Rhine wine goblet's sound.
Richter,(Jean Paul Fr.) - A distinguished German author.
Ridersmann,(Reitersmann in Ger.) - Rider.
Ring - A political clique or cabal.
Ringe,(Ger.) - Rings.
Ritter,(Ger.) - Knight.
Roland - One of the paladins of Charlemagne.
Rolette - Roulette.
Rollin' locks - Rolling logs, mutually aiding (used only in
        politics.)
Rosen,(Ger.) - Roses.
Rouse,(Ger. Heraus) - Out; come out.

Sachsen - Saxonia, Saxony.
Sacrin - Consecrating.
Sagen Cyclus - Cycle of legends.
Sass, Sassy, Sassin' - Sauce, saucy, &c.
Sauerkraut,(Ger.) - Pickled cabbage.
Saw it - Understood it.
Scatterin, Scotterin - Scattering.
Schatz - Sweetheart.
Schauer,(Ger.) - Awe.
Schenk aus,(Ger.) - Pour out.
Schenket ein,(Ger.) - Pour in (fill the glasses).
Schimmel,(Ger.) - Grey horse.
Schimpft und flucht gar laesterlich,(Ger.) - Swears and blasphemes
        abominably.
Schinken,(Ger.) - Ham.
Schlaeger,(Ger.) - A kind of sword or broadsword; a rapier used by
        students for duelling or fighting matches.
Schlesierwein,(Ger.) - Wine grown in Silesia, proverbially sour.
Schlimmer,(Ger.) - Worse.
Schlog him ober de kop - Knocked him on the head.
Schloss,(Ger.) - Castle.
Schmutz,(Ger.) - Dirt.
Schnapps,(Ger.) - Dram.
Schnitz - Pennsylvania German word for cut and dried fruit.
Schnitz, schnitzen,(Ger.) - To chop, chip, snip.
Schonheitsideal,(Ger.) - The ideal of beauty.
Schopenhauer - A celebrated German "philosophical physiologist."
Schoppen,(Ger.) - A liquid measure, chopin, pint.
Schrocken(Erschrocken) - Frightened.
Schwaben - Suabia.
Schwan,(Ger.) - Swan.
Schweinblatt - (Swine) Dirty paper.
Schweitzer kase,(Ger.) - Swiss cheese.
Schwer,(Ger.) - Heavy.
Schwig, Swig, verb. - To drink by large draughts.
Schwigs, Swig, n. - A large draught.
Schweinpig,(Ger.) - Swinepig.
Scoop - Take in, get.
Scorched - Escorted.  A negro malapropism.
Scrouged,(Amer.) - Pressed, jammed.
Seelen-Ideal - Soul's ideal.
Sefen-lefen - Seven or eleven(minutes).
Seins,(Ger.) - The Being.
Selbstanschauungsvermogen,(Ger.) - Capacity for self-inspection.
Selfe,(Ger. Selbe) - Same.
Serenity - A transparency.
Shanty - A board cabin.  Slang, for house.
Shapel - Chapel is an old word for a printing-office.
Sharman, Sherman - German.
Shings - Jingo; by jingo.
Shpicket - Spigot; a pin or peg to stop a small hole in a cask of
        liquor.
Shipsy - Gipsy.
Shlide - Slide.  "Let it slide," vulgar for "let it go."
Shlide,(Amer.) - Depart.
Shlished, geschlitzt - Slit.
Shlop over - Go too far and upset or spill.  Applied to men who
        venture too far in a success.
Shlopped - Slopped.
Shmysed,(Ger. Schmissen, from Schmeissen) -
         Threw him out of doors.
Shnow-wice,(Ger. Schnee-weis) - Snow-white.
Shoopider - Jupiter.
Shooting-stick - A shooting-stick is used for closing up the form
        of types.
Show-spiel, Schauspiel - Play, piece.
Shpoons - Spoons, plunder.
Shtuhl,(Ger. Stuhl) - Stool, chair.
Silbern,(Ger.) - Silver.
Sinn,(Ger.) - Meaning.
Six mals - Six times.
Skeeted - Went fast, skated(?)
Skool - Skull.
Skyugle,(Amer.) - "Skyugle" is a word which had a short run during
        1864.  It meant many things, but chiefly to disappear or to
make disappear.  Thus, a deserter "skyugled," and sometimes he
"skyugled" a coat or watch.
Slanganderin' - Foolishly slandering.
Slasher gaffs - Spurs for cocks, with cutting edges.
Slibovitz - A Bohemian schnapps.
Slumgoozlin' - Slum or sham guzzling, humbug.
Slumgullion - A Mississippi term for a legislator.
So mit,(Ger.) - Thus with.
Solidaten,(Ger. Soldaten) - Soldiers.
Sonntag,(Ger.) - Sunday.
Soplin - A sapling, young tree.
Sottelet,(Ger. Gesattelt) - Saddled.
Sound upon the goose - Bartlett, in his Dictionary of
        Americanisms, states that this phrase originated in the
        Kansas troubles, and signified true to the cause
        of slavery.  But this is erroneous, as the phrase
        was common during the native American campaign,
        and originated at Harrisburg, as described by Mr. Leland.
Souse und Brouse,(Ger. Saus und Braus) - Revelry and rioting.
Speck,(Ger.) - Bacon.
Spiel,(Ger.) - Play.
Spielman,(Ger.) - Musician.
Splodderin' - Splattering.
Spook,(Ger. Spuk) - A ghost.
Sporn,(Ger.) - Spur.
Sports - Sporting men.
Squander,(Amer.) - Wander.  Used in this sense in "The Big Bear of
        Arkansas."
Staub,(Ger.) - Dust.
Stein,(Ger.) - Stone.
Stille,(Ger.) - Stillness.
Stim,(Ger. Stimme) - Voice.
Stohr - Store.
Stone fence,(Amer.) - Rye whisky.
            "I went in and got a horn
            Of old stone fence."
            - Jim Crow, 1832.
Straaten,(Flem.) - Streets.
Stracks - Straight ahead, or onwards.
Straight flush - In poker, all the cards of one suit.
Strassen,(Ger.) - Streets.
Strauss - Name of the celebrated Viennese valse player and
        composer.
Strumpf,(Ger.) - Stocking.
Stunden,(Ger.) - Leagues.  About four and a half English miles.
Sturm und Drang,(Ger.) - Literally Storm and Violence.  Sturm und
        Drang periode, signifying a particular period of German
        literature.
Sweynheim and Pannartz - The first printers at Rome.

Takes - Allotments of copy to each printer.
Tantz,(Ger.) - Dance.
Tantzen,(Ger.) - To dance.
Tarnal - Eternal.
Taub, Taube,(Ger.) - Dove.
Taugenix, Taugenichts - Good-for-nothing fellow.
Teufelsjagersmann - Devil's huntsman.
Theil,(Ger.) - Part.
Thoom - Thumb.
Thrip,(Southern Amer.) - Threepence.
Thusnelda - The wife of Arminius,(Hermann,) the Duke of the
        Cheruskans and conqueror of Varus.
Tie a dog loose. Losbinden
Tiger - An American term for a gambling table.
Tixey - "I wish I was in Dixie."  The origin of this song
        is rather curious.  Although now thoroughly adopted as a
        Southern song, and "Dixie's Land" understood to mean the
        Southern States of America, it was, about a century ago,
        the estate of one Dixie, on Manhattan Island, who treated
        his slaves well; and it was their lament, on being deported
        south, that is now known as "I wish I was in Dixie."
Todt,(Ger.) - Dead.
Todtengrips, Todtengerippe - Skeleton.
Tofe - Dove.
To House,(Ger. zu Hause) - At home.
Tortled - To tortle, to move off.  From turtle.
Touch the dirt - Touch the road.
Treppe - Stairs.
Treu,(Ger.) - Faithful, true.
Throw him with ecks - Pelt him with eggs.
Turchin - Colonel Turchin's men ravaged the town of Huntsville
        (Ala.) during the civil war.
Turkas - Turquoise.
Turner,(Ger.) - Gymnast.
Turner Verein,(Ger. Turnverein) - Gymnastic Society.
Tyfel, Teufel - Devil.
Tyfeled, Verteufelt - Devilish.
Tyfelfest - From Teufel, here in the sense of "best" or "worst."
Tyfel-shnake, Teufelsschnaken - Devilries.
Tyfel-strikes, Teufels-streiche - Devil-strokes.
Tyfelwards - Devilwards.

Uber Stein and Schwein,(Ger.) - Over stone and swine.
Ueberschwengliche,(Ger.) - Transcendental, elevated.
Uhr,(Ger.) - Clock, watch, hour, time.  Used for "hour" in the
        ballad.
Uhu,(Ger.) - Owl.
Uliverus - Oliver, another of the twelve Paladins of Charlemagne,
        who fell at Roncesvalles (a Roland for an Oliver).
Und lauter guter Ding,(Ger.) - And of thoroughly good cheer.
Un-windoong,(Ger. Entwicklung?) - Unravelling.
Unvolkommene technik - Unfinished style or method.
Urbummeleid,(Ger. vulg.) - Arch-loafer's song.
Urlied,(Ger.) - The song of yore.

Van't klein komt men tot't groote,(Dutch) - Great things have small
        beginnings.  (Concordia res parvae crescunt - Legend on the
        Dutch ducats; or "Magna molimur parvi.")
Varus - The Roman commander in Germany, conquered by Arminius.
Veilchen,(Ger.) - Violets.
Vercieren,(Flem.) - Adorn; exalt.
Verdammt,(Ger.) - D---d.
Verfluchter,(Ger.) - Accursed.
Verloren,(Ger.) - Forlorn.
Verstay, Verstehen - Understand.
Versteh, Verstehen,(Ger.) - To understand.
Vertyfeln, Verteufeln - To botch.
Villiam - William Street at New York, inhabited by many Germans.
Vivat! - The same as vive! in French.  Hurrah!
Vlaemsche - Flemish.
Von - One.  See Preface.
Voonderly,(Ger. Wunderlich) - Wondrous, curious.
Voruber,(Ger.) - Past.

Wachsen,(Ger.) - Waxen.
Wachsen,(Ger.) - To grow.
            "Komm'ich in's galante Sachsen
            Wo die schone Maedchen wachsen."
                    - Old German Song.
Waechter,(Ger.) - Watchman.
Waelder,(Ger.) - Woods.
Wahlverwandtschaft,(Ger.) - Elective affinity, sympathy of souls.
Wahrsagt,(Ger. Wahrsagen) - To foretell, soothsay.
Waidmannsheil,(Ger.) - Huntsman's weal.
Wald,(Ger.) - Wood.
Wallowin - Walloon.
Walschen,(Ger.) - Of the Latin race.
Wappenshield(Waffenschild) - Coat of arms.
Ward all zu Steine,(Ger.) - Became all stone.
Ward zu Wind,(Ger.) - Became a wind.
Wechselbalg,(Ger.) - (formerly a popular superstitious belief), a
        changeling, brat, urchin.
Weihnachtsbaum,(Ger.) - Christmas tree.
Weihnachtslied,(Ger.) - Christmas song.
Weingarts, weingarten,(Ger.) - Vineyards.
Weingeist,(Ger.) - Vinous, ardent spirit.
Wein-handle,(Ger. Weinhandel or Weinhandlung) -
        Wine-trade, wine-shop.
Weinnachtstraum - Lit. Winenight's dream, for "Weihnacht,"
        Christmas dream.
Wellen und Wogen,(Ger.) - Waves and billows.
Welshhen - Turkey hen.
Werda?(Ger.) - Who's there?
Werden, das Werden - The becoming to be.
Wete(Wette) - Bet.
We'uns, you'ns - We and you.  A common vulgarism
        through the Southern States.
            "'Tis sad that we'uns from you'ns parts
            When you'ns hev stolen we'uns' hearts.
Wie gehts,(Ger.) - How goes it? How are you?
Wie Milch und Blut - Like milk and blood.
Wild und Weh,(Ger.) - Wild and woebegone.
Wilde Jagd - Wild hunt.
Willkomm,(Ger.) - Welcome.
Windsbraut,(Ger. poet) - Storm, hurricane, gust of wind.
Wird,(Ger.) - Becomes.
Wise-hood,(Ger. Weisheit) - Wisdom.
Wised,(Ger. Wusste, from wissen) - Knew.
Witz,(Ger.) - A sally.
Wo bist du?(Ger.) - Where art?
Woe-moody,(Ger. Wehmuthig) - Moanful, doleful.
Wohl,(Ger.) - Well!
Wohlauf,(Ger.) - Well, come on, cheer up.
Wolfsschlucht,(Ger.) - Wolf's glen.
Wonnevol,(Ger. Wonnevoll) - Blissful.
Woon,(Ger. Wunde) - Wound.
Word-blay - Word-play, pun, quibble.
Wunderscheen(Wunderschoen) - Very beautiful.
Wurst - A German student word for indifference.
Wurst,(Ger.) - Sausage.

Yaeger,(Ger.) - Huntsman.
Yaegersmann, Jaegersmann - Huntsman.
Yager,(Jager, Ger.) - Hunter.
Yar,(Ger. Jahr) - Year.
Yartausend, Jahrtausend - A thousand years.
Yellow pine - Mulatto.
Yonge maegden,(Flem.) - Young girls.
            "I lost a maiden in that hour." - Byron.
Yoompers - Jumpers.  Rude sledges.
Yungling, Jungling,(Ger.) - Youth.

Zapfet aus,(Ger.) - Tap the barrel.
Zigeuner - Gipsy.
Zimmer,(Ger.) - Room.
Zukunftig,(Ger.) - In future.

1. Liederchor is the word which serves as a basis for this
   designation.

2. Studio auf einer Reis',
   Lebet halt auf auf eig'ner Weis'
   Hungrig hier und hungrig dort,
   Ist des Burschens Logungswort.

This, with the other verses, may be found in the German Student's
"Commersbucher."

3. Bachtallo dschaven is the prose form.  Vide Pott's
   Zigeuner.

4.  Stinging.  An amusing instance of "Breitmannism" was
   shown in the fact that an American German editor, in his
   ignorance of English, actually believed that the word stinging,
   as here given, meant stinking, and was accordingly
   indignant.  It is needless to say that no such idea was intended
   to be conveyed.

5. Then only you will be ready in German.

6. In Music and Song all thy life long.

7. Thy feet are white as chalk, my love,
        Thy arms are ivory bone,
   Thy body is all satin soft,
        Thy breast of marble stone
   @ @ @ @ @ @
   Smooth, tender, pure, and fair.
        --Liederbuch Pauls von der Helst, 1602

8. Slibovitz.

9. The author does not know who wrote the first part of "Die
   Schone Wittwe." It appeared about 1856, and "went the round
   of the papers," accumulating as it went several additions
   or rejoinders, one of which was that by Hans Breitmann.

10. I had not seen for many days
      The handsome widow's face;
    I saw her last night standing
      By her counter, full of grace.
    With cheeks as pure as milk and blood,
      With eyes so bright and blue,
    I kissed her full well six times,
      Indeed, and that is true.

11. This ballad is a parody of Das Hildebrandslied.  Consult
    Wackernagel's Lesebuch and Das klein Heldenbuch.
            "Ich vill zum Land ausreiten,
            Sprach sich Maister Hilteprand."

12. The Republicans in America were for a long time ridiculed by their
    opponents as if professing to be guided by Moral Ideas, i.e.
    Emancipation, Progress, Harmony of Interests, &c.

13. Gling, glang, gloria, was a common refrain in the 16th
    century, in German drinking songs. "Gling, glang, glorian, Die
    Sau hat ein Panzer an." - Tractatus de Ebrietate Vitanda.

14. The boot was a favourite drinking cup during the Middle Ages.
    The writer has seen a boot-shaped mug, bearing the inscription,
        "Wer . sein . Stiefel . nit . trinken . kan .
        Der . ist . furwahr . kein . Teutscher . man."

    There is an allusion to this boot-cup in Longfellow's "Golden
    Legend," where mention is made of a jolly companion

                ----"who could pull
        At once a postilion's jack-boot full,
        And ask with a laugh, when that was done,
        If they could not give him the other one."

15. The German equivalent for a native of Little Pedlington.  It is
    a Suabian joke, commemorated in a popular song, to inquire in
    foreign and remote regions, "Is there any good fellow from
    Boblingen here?"

16. "Sonst etwas auf dem Rohr habem" - something else on the pipe
    or tube - meaning a plan or idea, kept to one's self, is a German
    proverbial expression, which occurs in one of Langbein's humorous
    lyrics.

17. "Nom de garce," as an anagram of nom de grace,
    occurs in Rabelais. G

18. An expression only used in reference to seeing again some
    jolly old friend after long absence - "Uns kommt der alte
    Schwed."

19. Wurst, literally sausage, is used by German students
    to signify indiffer ence.  When a sausage is on the table, and
    one is asked with mock courtesy which part he prefers, he
    naturally replies - "Why, it is all sausage to me."  I have heard
    an elderly man in New England reply to the query whether he would
    have "black meat or breast" - "Any part, thank'ee - I guess it's
    all turkey."  There are, of course, divers ancient and
    quaint puns in Pennsylvania, on such a word as wurst. Thus
    it is said that a northern pedlar, in being served with some
    sausage of an inferior quality, was asked again if he would have
    some of the wurst.  Not understanding the word, and
    construing it as a slight, he replied to his hostess - "No, thank
    you, marm, this is quite bad enough."  The literal meaning of
    this line, which is borrowed from Scheffel's poem of Perkeo, is
    "indifferent, and equal, to me."

20. It was, I believe, Ragnar Lodbrog who, in his Death Song,
    spoke, about as intelligently and clearly as Herr Breitmann, of a
    mass of weapons.

21. Is true art-enjoyment.

22. Where art thou Breitmann? - Believe it.

23. In the green wood.

24. Students in the streets.

25. Oh Fatherland! - how thou art far!
    Oh Time! - how art thou long!

26. Full details of this excursion were published in a pamphlet,
    entitled "Three Thousand Miles in a Railroad Car," and also in
    letters written by Mr. J. G. Hazzard for the New York
    Tribune.

27. In American-German festivals, cards are sometimes sold by the
    quantity, which are "good" for refreshments.  This is done to
    avoid trouble in making change.

28. Breitmann and bride-man, breit and krumm (bride and groom),
    or broad and crooked, &c.

29. This refers to the passage of bills in the Legislature of a
    state by means of bribery.  In Pennsylvania, as in many other
    states, bills which have "nothing in them" - i.e. no money
    - are rarely allowed to pass.

30. "Die Welt gleicht einer Bierbouteille."

31. Harrisburg is the capital of the state of Pennsylvania.

32. In a certain edition of the Breitmann Ballads, this phrase is
    said to have originated in 1845.  In 1835, I heard it said that
    General Jackson in a letter spelt all correct "oll
    korrekt," and this I believe to be the real origin of
    the expression. - C.G.L.

33. This incident, and the one narrated in the preceding verse,
    are literally true.

34. "No more interlect than a half-grown shad," is a phrase which
    occurs, if the author remembers aright, in the Charcoal Sketches,
    by J. C. Neal.  The Western people have carried this idea a step
    further, and applied it to sardines, as "small fishes," all of an
    average size, packed closely together in tin cans and excluded
    from the light of day.  A man who has never travelled, and has
    during all his life been packed tightly among those who were his
    equals in ignorance and inexperience, is therefore a "sardine."

35. The incident narrated in this part, is told in Pennsylvania
    as having occurred to a well-known politician, who bore the
    sobriquet of "With all due deference," from his habit of
    beginning all his speeches with these words.

36. "Dese outpressions ish not to pe angeseen py anypodies ash
    schvearin, boot ash inderesdin Norse or Sherman idioms.  Goot
    many refiewers vot refiewsed to admire soosh derms in de earlier
    editions ish politelich requestet to braise dem in future nodices
    from a transcendental philological standpoint." - FRITZ
    SCHWACKENHAMMER

37. Requisish.  An abbreviation of the word
    requisition, which Breitmann had heard during the War of
    Emancipation.  I once heard this cant term used in a droll
    manner, about the end of the war, by a little girl, six years
    old, the daughter of a quarter-master.  She had "confiscated," or
    "foraged," or "skirmished," as it was indifferently called, a toy
    whip belonging to her little brother of four years, who was
    clamorously demanding its return.  "I cannot let you have the
    whip," said she gravely, "as I need it for military purposes; but
    I can give you a requisish for it on my papa, who will give you
    an order on the United States Government." - C. G. L.

38. Bismarck.

39. Disraeli.

40. Uhu.  An owl - the bird of kn-owl-edge.

41. Allons.  Uhlan slang for go or went, as
    in America, they use the Spanish word vamos to express
    every person in every sense of the verb to go.  Pronounced
    allon'd.

42. "O no, those are no angels
    Which sail so smoothly on,
    O no - they're cursed Frenchmen,
    All in an air-balloon."

43. "And when she came adown
    Unto the earth's firm surface,
    She was Mrs. Robinson."

44. Those are thrashed Frenchmen.

45. "Der Uhlan was not shenerally wear pickelhaube, but dis tay
    der Herr Breitmann gehappenet to hafe von on." - FRITZ
    SCHWACKENHAMMER

46. "And art thou truly living?"

47. "All my property."

48. "O maiden fair in Heaven!"

49. Nancy, the "light of love" of Lorraine. - London
    Times, Dec. 6, 1870.

50. "I require you to surrender:
    I have thirty thousand men
    Not far from here, parbleu!
    But give me first champagne:
    I've a wondrous thirst, you know-
    About a dozen cart-loads;
    And then I'll let you go."

51. "O Lord, Lord, Lord!
    We are ruined!"

52. "We will take the ready gelt."

53. "Yes, give a hundred thousand francs
    'Tis all to me, you know."

54. "Ah, that will make you trouble,
    Which I would not gladly see;
    So follow all my counsels,
    And take advice from me.
    I have two thousand bottles,
    The best"-

55. "From the wrath of the Northmen, deliver us, Lord!"

56. There is a German student's song which begins with this
    couplet.

57. La Redoute - the gambling-room at Spa.

58. Spa is famous for painted ornamental wooden ware, such as
    fans and boxes.

59. "And to him who sung this song,
    God give a happy year!"

60. "If wine is better than loving,
    Or if love doth much more than wine."

61. "Yes, when the flower is plucked,
    And taken from the stem."

62. "What is sweeter than this drinking?
    Yes - naught can better be
    Naught is sweeter, though, than loving;
    It tastes better than wine to me.
    There's nothing like the maidens,
    There's nothing like good beer,
    And he who does not love them both
    Can be no cavalier."

63. "The colours are not unknown to me."

64. "Ils etaient deux alors; ils sont mille aujourd'hui.
    Sur ces temps primitifs le doux progres a lui,
    Et chacque jour le Rhin vers Cologne charrie
    De nombreux Farinas, tous 'seul, 'tous 'Jean Marie.'"
     - Le Maout,"Le Parfumeur," cited by Eugene Rimmel
     in Le Livre des Parfums, Paris, 1870.

65. Bierstadt - Herr Schwackenhammer had evidently here in
    view, not only the American artist BIERSTADT, but also the great
    city of Munich, specially famous for its manufacture of beer.

66. Rattenkonig, or Rat-king, is a term applied in German to a
    droll mixture of incidents or details.  It is derived from an
    extraordinary story of twelve rats, with one (their king) in the
    centre, which were found in a nest with their tails grown
    together, firmly as the ligament which connects the Siamese
    Twins.

67. "Lucifers."  The first name applied in America to friction
    matches, and one still used by many people.

68. Scalawag - an American word, of very doubtful origin,
    signifying a low, worthless fellow.

69. "If we can in our monastery collect our rents, we do not care
    a red cent for infallibility."

70. This verse is parodied from the lines of a ribald old Latin
    song, "Viginti Jesuiti nuper convenere."

71. "If I could throw myself outside of, or around, a glass of
    Rhenish wine." "If I could see a glass of whisky," said an
    American, "I'd throw myself outside of it mighty quick."  Since
    writing the above, I have seen the expression thus given in a
    copy of La Belle Sauvage. - Bill of the Play, London, June 27,
    1870.

         "Nay these natives - simple creatures-
         Had resolved that for the future
         Each his own canoe would paddle,
         Each his own hoe-cake would gobble,
         And get outside his own whisky."

72. "Deus se fecit olim homo,"&c.  A very curious epigram to this
    effect was placed upon "Pasquin" while the writer was in Rome,
    during a past winter.  It was as follows:- "Perche Eva mangio il
    pomo Iddio per riscattarci si fece uomo, Ed ora il Nono Pio Per
    mantenerci schiavi, si fa Dio."

73. M'Closky.  An Irish adventurer, admirably depicted by Mr.
    Charles Lever.

74. "Do you not see that if you are infallible, and wish to give
    it out."

75. "During its life."

76. "Thou art a very puppy."

77. This was the late Charles Astor Bristed of New York, to whom
    many of these ballads were addressed in letters.

78. Lines from Gudrun, each of which is freely translated by the
    lines following it.

79. "Go forth, my book, through all the world,
    Bear what thy fate may be!
    They may bite thee, they may tear thee,
    So they do no harm to me!"

80. "Pull on your boots so rough and tough,
    And whet your sword beside,
    We have been lazy long enough,
    The road is worth the ride."

81. Schicksal, Destiny.

82. Menschheitsideal, Human Ideal.

83. A little stream in Cincinnati, beyond which lies the German
    quarter, is known as the Rhine.

84. That was a dark young gypsy.

85. Ah, Rosalie, my lovely one!

86. Blood-coloured is the lovely rose.

87. Who roses picks his finger pricks
    No matter what befall;
    In winter-time he finds them gone
    And gets no rose at all.
    Our petting and caressing here,
    Our joy or misery
    It all shall rest sub rosa, love,
    And our own secret be!

88. "Thou'rt right, my darling son."

89. "Good-bye, my friend, my Frederick!"

90. Woppenshield, coat of arms.





Here ends the Project Gutenberg edition of
Charles G. Leland's "The Breitmann Ballads"