Читать книгу The Wit and Humor of America, Volume VII - Marshall Pinckney Wilder - Страница 1

Hans Breitmann choined de Toorners

        Novemper in de fall,

Und dey gifed a boostin' bender

        All in de Toorner Hall.

Dere coomed de whole Gesangverein

        Mit der Liederlich Aepfel Chor,

Und dey blowed on de drooms und stroomed on de fifes

        Till dey couldn't refife no more.

Hans Breitmann choined de Toorners,

        Dey all set oop some shouts,

Dey took'd him into deir Toorner Hall,

        Und poots him a course of shprouts,

Dey poots him on de barrell-hell pars

        Und shtands him oop on his head,

Und dey poomps de beer mit an enchine hose

        In his mout' dill he's 'pout half tead!

Hans Breitmann choined de Toorners;—

        Dey make shimnastig dricks;

He stoot on de middle of de floor,

        Und put oop a fifdy-six.

Und den he trows it to de roof,

        Und schwig off a treadful trink:

De veight coom toomple pack on his headt,

        Und py shinks! he didn't vink!

Hans Breitmann choined de Toorners:—

        Mein Gott! how dey drinked und shwore

Dere vas Schwabians und Tyrolers,

        Und Bavarians by de score.

Some vellers coomed from de Rheinland,

        Und Frankfort-on-de-Main,

Boot dere vas only von Sharman dere,

        Und he vas a Holstein Dane.

Hans Breitmann choined de Toorners,

        Mit a Limpurg' cheese he coom;

Ven he open de box it schmell so loudt

        It knock de musik doomb.

Ven de Deutschers kit de flavor,

        It coorl de haar on dere head;

Boot dere vas dwo Amerigans dere;

        Und, py tam! it kilt dem dead!

Hans Breitmann choined de Toorners;

        De ladies coomed in to see;

Dey poot dem in de blace for de gals,

        All in der gal-lerie.

Dey ashk: "Vhere ish der Breitmann?"

        And dey dremple mit awe and fear

Ven dey see him schwingen py de toes,

        A trinken lager bier.

Hans Breitmann choined de Toorners:—

        I dells you vot py tam!

Dey sings de great Urbummellied:

        De holy Sharman psalm.

Und ven dey kits to de gorus

        You ought to hear dem dramp!

It scared der Teufel down below

        To hear de Dootchmen stamp.

Hans Breitmann choined de Toorners:—

        By Donner! it vas grand,

Vhen de whole of dem goes a valkin'

        Und dancin' on dere hand,

Mit de veet all wavin' in de air,

        Gottstausend! vot a dricks!

Dill der Breitmann fall und dey all go down

        Shoost like a row of bricks.

Hans Breitmann choined de Toorners,

        Dey lay dere in a heap,

And slept dill de early sonnen shine

        Come in at de window creep;

And de preeze it vake dem from deir dream,

        And dey go to kit deir feed:

Here hat' dis song an Ende—

        Das ist Des Breitmannslied.