"Ja - shop him indo sausage,
Und coot him indo ham;
Und schwear dey'll serfe all oders
Exacdly so - py tam!
Sons of France, awake to glory,
Let your anciend valor shine!
Und shweep dis Prussian vermin
Het und dails indo de Rhine!"
VI.
BREITMANN'S LAST PARTY.
For fear of some missed onder standings, I vould shtate, dat dis is only mean de last Barty dat der Coptain Breitmann has ge given - as yed. Pimepy I kess he gife anoder von, und if I kits an in- leading, or indrotuckshun, I kess I'll go. I am von of de vellers dat vas ad de virst Barty, vhere mine swister-in-law de Madilda Yane vas tantz mit Herr Breitmann.
FRITZ SCHWACKENHAMMER, Olim Studiosus Theologiae, now Uhlan free-lancer, und Segretarius of Coptain Breitmann.
VOT gollops at mitnight,
Mit h'roolah and yell,
Like der teufel's wild yager
Boorst loose out of hell?
Vot cleams in the sonrise
Bright vlashin in gold?
Das sind die Uhlancers
Of Breitmann der bold.
Dey frighten de coontry,
Dey ploonder de town;
And when dey are oop
Die Franzosen co down:
For pefore de wild Norsemen
De Southron must flee;
Ab ira Normannorum
Libera nos Domine![55]
How dey sweep de chateaux!
How dey grab oop de hens!
Und gobble de toorkeys
Shoot oop in de pens
Like de Angel of Deat'
Dey are ragin abroad:
You may track dem py fedders
Knee-deep in de road.
O der Breitmann ish on,
Und der Breitmann is on,
Und mit him de Uhlans
Are ploonderin gone.
De demon of fengeance
His wings o'er em vave,
Mit deir fingers like hooks,
Und mit maws like de grafe.
Dey coom to a castel,
So shplendid, of bricks;
Franzosen defend it,
Das help em gar nichts.
For de Uhlans hafe take it,
Dey smash in de gate,
Und inshpired by Gott's fury,
Dey shdole all de plate.