The Breitmann Ballads
by Charles G. Leland
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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 zurück? 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.


"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 Shenerál! Vere I vonce on de road, his will, Vere wurst mir und egâl. [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 théories 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 réligiös Idée."

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

"Derefore, a Miserére Vill dou, be-ghostet, spiel, Und vake be-raiséd, 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 Méhul 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 Eberlé blayed oop so high, He maket de rafters ring; Der Eberlé 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]


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 Fé; 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!


"Hæc est illa bona dies Et vocata læta quies Vina sitientibus.

"Nullus metus, nec labores, Nulla cura, nec dolores, Sint in hoc symposio." [De Generibus Ebriosorum, Francoforti ad Mœnum, 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 tœnt, es rauschet Saitenklang - I hear de musik call Den herzenhellen Saal entlang - all droo de gleamin' Hall. O mœcht 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 Glück 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 Wælder - 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 yæger 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!


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 Selbstanschauungsvermögen 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 Heléne. "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 Théologie, 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.




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 émail 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 Kœnig 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.


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 Morál Idée.

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

Und die fourt' Idée 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' Idée - 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 Morál Idée - 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!


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 Bœmisch 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.



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.



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.



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 agreën 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-geclearéd 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.




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.




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 idées 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.


"Bjó foeri ek thér, Brynthings apaldr! Magni blandinn Ok magentíri, Fullr er hann ljoda." -Sigrdrîfurnál

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




"Dere vas vonce oopon a dimes a Frantchman who asket if a Sharman could hafe ésprit. 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 Mjöllner'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 wölfen glare At de Aesir in de air, Long mit schneerin bären 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 Thören 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 Jötuns 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 Fräntscher 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!!



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 Fræntsch!

"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 yäger 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 idée 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 Salomé.

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

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.


"Très estimé 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 gethräsht 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 Fräntsch 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 brucké- Vhy die Fräntschmen 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 brucké, 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 Güter,[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 Mädchen! schön 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 vérité, 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 Cólonél Français. IV.


O HEAR a wondrous shdory Vot soundet like romance, How Breitmann mit four Uhlans Vas dake de town of Nantz. De Fräntschmen 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 Fräntschmen shtare, Und say, "Ye wretsched shildren? Abbortez mir vodre mère!"

Hans mean de city Syndic, Whom maire de Fräntschmen 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 segretairé - "Read A liddle exdra listé Of dings de army need, Und dell dem in Französisch 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 fünf tousand silbern, For de gommon soldiers' wear; Und tree dousand diamant ringé 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 voilà ruinées!"[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 ringé, 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 ègal, 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 miseré Que she ne feux bas see; So, vollow mes gonseillés, 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.



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 Fräntsché 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 Fräntschman 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 Fräntschman, 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!"



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 Theologiæ, now Uhlan free-lancer, und Segretarius of Coptain Breitmann.

VOT gollops at mitnight, Mit h'roolah and yell, Like der teufel's wild yäger 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 mädchen, So lieblich und hold, Who laugh at de dead Troo her ringlocks of gold.

Denn der Breitmann, all plooty, To'm mädel 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 mädchen 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 Fräntsch 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 tanzét! 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!




"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 Orphée aux Enfers: Vot makes de beoples howl mit shoy? Da capo - Bravo! - bis!! It's a Deutscher aus Amerikà: 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 sacré 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 Elysées, 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.


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 Françoys Villon. He raise de teufel all arount, He hear de Sorbonne chime; Crate shpirid ender in mein heart, Und mofe mein soul to rhyme.


Dictes moy - in what shpirit land Ish Clara Lafontaine? Or Pomaré, 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 à la bleine ferre, Ni sa pouche à 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.


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 données.

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 Königs 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 liberté 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 Fräntschmen 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.



"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.


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 péké 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 zéro 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 Sauveniére; He tried it ad de Barisart, Und auch de Géronstére. "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 teufelsjägersmann 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 tête du sanglier. Der Breitmann heafe a shiant sigh, Und say mit 'motion grand: Von crate idée ish über all In dis der Schweinpig's land.

He drafel troo de Val d'Ambléve, 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.


"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.


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




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 théorie 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 Ostadé, 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 mädchen 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 panthéistich far; To him who reads dis myst'ry right, Mit insbiration gifen, Der Raffael's rollen in de dirt, Vhile Brauwer soars to Heafen.


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.

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