"Oldt Hans? Oldt Hans?" yelled Dunnerwurst indignantly. "Who vos you callin' oldt Hans mit such carelessness? Py Chiminy! I peen not more than a year younger as you vos yourselluf! Don'd you git so bersonal in my remarks!"
Then he saw Barney Mulloy, who was standing near, a broad grin on his face.
With a howl, Hans flung the carpetbag and the flute straight up into the air.
"Id vos Parney!" he shouted. "Id vos dot Irish pogtrotter!"
Then the carpetbag came down, struck Hans on the head and knocked him to a sitting position on the grass.
"Sarves ye roight for torturin' our ears wid thot croupy flute, ye bologna sausage!" laughed Mulloy.
"Pologna sissage! Pologna sissage!" howled Hans. "You vos chust as sauciness as I efer vos! Vy don'd I learnt some manners dot vould make a chentleman uf you!"
Together, Mulloy and Gallup seized the Dutchman, one by each arm, lifted him part way to his feet and then permitted him to fall back with a thud.
"Look out there, boys," laughed Frank, "you'll dent the ground!"
"Mine cootness!" gurgled Hans. "The ground dented me alretty soon! Don'd put my hands on you again!" he ordered, as his friends once more offered assistance. "Don'd try to pull der ground avay from me! I vill dood it mineselluf. I vill got up mitoudt nopody's resistance."