Verflucht sei deine Seele—do you dink
I coom to blay fur caddle? I ton’t go
Unto Benicia. Dell your veller-bigs
Your tauter blays in my blace—in de blace
Of Herr Josephi—do you oonderstand,
You hundert tousend plasted Schweinigel!”
And in the rustic’s face he slammed the door.
He did not play in fair Benicia,
And in that town he is not popular;
And in its leading circles seven out