"I am a gal dis mornin',
Yestreen I vas a knight,
Old hoss - you nearly smashedme,
I guess, in that small fight;
And if I hadn't shot you
I think I should have ran."
"Gottshimmel mit Potzbomben!
Egsclaim der Breitemann.
"But say, O nople lady,
Vot got you in dot set
Of plackgards - vilt dou dell me?"
De dame rebly: "You bet!
My father came from Boston,
And when this war began
He got a splendid contract,
All with the Russi-an,
"To sell the army shoe-strings;
But I have read of fights,
And I dream of war and glory,
For I go for women's rights;
Then I read a book of poems
Which fairly turned my head,
The ballads of Hans Breitmann"—
"Oh —- ho!" Hans Breitmann said.
"And as I think the Breitmann
Must be the greatest man
Who ever went a-fighting
Since History began,
I dressed me like a soldier,
For I am stark of limb;
With Breitmann for a model,
And try to act like him.
"Oh, tell me, noble captive,
While rolling in this storm
Which men call life, hast ever
Beheld Hans Breitmann's form?
Oh, could I once embrace him,
And gaze into his eye,
And feel his arms around me,
Then I would gladly die.
"He is the man of mortals,
The Odin of them all,
A higher Incarnation,
The 'Menschheitsideal,'[82]
A being made to worship,
To me an earthly Gott"—
"Py shings!" exglaim Hans Breitmann,
"Dis ding is gettin hot!
"O laity! - nople gountess!
Dis man of whom you dink
Ish lyin' here pefore you,
Half tead for want of trink,
Likewise for lofe of you, too,
Done up mit lofe and durst,
Und mit de two togeder,
I don't know vitch is vorst.
"And dou canst safe dy hero
From bitter Todespein,
If dou hast in de Keller
Only one Fass of wein.
Nay, doubt not - in my pocket
Is dot vitch brofes de man,
My bassport, und drei tavern bills
Against der Breitemann."
De laity she emprace him
Oontil he nearly bust.
"Potz-blitz!" gasp out der Breitmann,
"She is a squeezer - yust!"
De dame she vas vealty,
Likewise an orphan too,
Mit a castel und a titel,
So Breitmann put it troo.
So soon the paar vere marrit,-
Hei! vot a dimes dey had!
Hei! how dey life togeder
So clorious und clad!
Now he has cot a titel
Dot was a Capitan;
Hier hat de tale ein Ende
Of Herr Count Breitemann.