cost him dear.
Dey rolled in more ash sefen kecks
Of foost rate Lager Beer,
Und venefer dey knocks de shpicket in
De Deutschers gifes a cheer.
I dinks dat so vine a barty
Nefer coom to a het dis year.

Hans Breitmann gife a barty:
Dere all vas Souse und Brouse;
Ven de sooper comed in, de gompany
Did make demselfs to house.
Dey ate das Brot und Gensy broost,
De Bratwurst und Braten fine,
Und vash der Abendessen down
Mit four parrels of Neckarwein.

Hans Breitmann gife a barty:
We all cot troonk ash pigs.
I poot mine mout to a parrel of beer,
Und emptied it oop mit a schwigs.
Und denn I gissed Madilda Yane
Und she shlog me on the kop,
Und de gompany fited mit dable-lecks
Dill de coonsthable made oos shtop.

Hans Breitmann gife a barty----
Where ish dat barty now!
Where ish de lofely golden cloud
Dat float on de mountain's prow?
Where ish de himmelstrahlende Stern----
De shtar of de shpirit's light?
All goned afay mit de Lager Beer----
Afay in de Ewigkeit!

CHARLES GODFREY LELAND.

FRANCES M. WHICHER

TIM CRANE AND THE WIDOW

"O, no, Mr. Crane, by no manner o' means, 'tain't a minnit tow soon for
you to begin to talk about gittin' married agin. I am amazed you should
be afeerd I'd think so. See--how long's Miss Crane ben dead? Six
months!--land o' Goshen!--why, I've know'd a number of individdiwals get
married in less time than that. There's Phil Bennett's widder 't I was
a-talkin' about jest now--she 't was Louisy Perce--her husband hadent
been dead but _three_ months, you know. I don't think it looks well for
a _woman_ to be in such a hurry--but for a _man_ it's a different
thing--circumstances alters cases, you know. And then, sittiwated as you
be, Mr. Crane, it's a turrible thing for your family to be without a
head to superintend the domestic consarns and tend to the children--to
say nothin' o' yerself, Mr. Crane. You dew need a companion, and no
mistake. Six months! Good grievous! Why, Squire Titus dident wait but
six _weeks_ arter he buried his fust wife afore he married his second. I
thought ther wa'n't no partickler need o' his hurryin' so, seein' his
family was all grow'd up. Such a critter as he pickt out, tew! 'twas
very onsuitable--but every man to his taste--I hain't no dispersition
to meddle with nobody's consarns. There's old farmer Dawson, tew--his
pardner hain't ben dead but ten month