"No, madam; no!"
"Then I'll have to see if I can suit myself elsewhere."
And she departed.
THE DUTCHMAN'S SERENADE
ANONYMOUS
Vake up, my schveet! Vake up, my lofe!
Der moon dot can't be seen abofe.
Vake oud your eyes, and dough it's late,
I'll make you oud a serenate.
Der shtreet dot's kinder dampy vet,
Und dhere vas no goot blace to set;
My fiddle's getting oud of dune,
So blease get vakey wery soon.
O my lofe! my lofely lofe!
Am you avake up dere abofe,
Feeling sad and nice to hear
Schneider's fiddle shcrabin' near?
Vell, anyvay, obe loose your ear,
Und try to saw of you kin hear
From dem bedclose vat you'm among,
Der little song I'm going to sung.
Oh, lady, vake! Get vake!
Und hear der tale I'll tell;
Oh, you vot's schleebin' sound ub dhere,
I like you pooty vell!
Your plack eyes dhem don't shine
Ven you'm ashleep—so vake!
(Yes, hurry ub und voke up quick,
For goodness cracious sake!)