Came the mournful story.

And the tidings so provoked him,

That a peacock leg half choked him,

And he cried—beyond control—

“Varus, Varus! d—n your soul!

Redde legiones!”

His German slave, Hans Schmidt be-christened,

Who in the corner stood and listened,

Remarked, “Der Teufel take me wenn

He efer kits dose droops acain,