Ven der Kaiser vould shtart some beeg shtunt,
All dose shwells den soon come to de front,
Und de prince, und de king
Seem to be de whole ting,
Mit old Fritz at de heel of de hunt.
But somedimes ven de Kaiser’s in doubt,
Und already can’t find his vay oudt;
Ven dose hard shpots he hits,
Den he say–“Mine dear Fritz,
Vot you tinks of dis peesness, old Scoudt?”
So it vas mit dose junkers so shlick,
Dey vould soon end dis var britty quick;
But, shoost after de Marne
De crawl unter de barn,
For already dey feel mighty sick.
Den der kaiser say–“Fritzie, old chap,
Let me know vot you tink of dis schrap;
Vill ve lick dose beeg shmoke,
Or go britty soon proke,
Mit de faderland viped off de map?”
Den I say–“Dat’s von very hard case;
Can tree jacks beat four kings und some ace?
Ven ve hafn’t de card
Ve must bluff britty hard,
Or shoost trow down our hand in disgrace.
If like checkers ve blay, don’t forget
Dey got more men dan ve haf, you bet!
If ve makes some beeg schore,
Und not man off no more,
Ve may shtop mit a draw, maype yet.”
Den der Kaiser say–“Tanks, Mr. Strauss,
On your back dere don’t grow any moss;
I’ll shoost blay some more pranks
On dose silly old Yanks”
Den he gif me von nice iron cross.
(Abner Cosens)
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