At his breakfast sat the Baron
Poring deeply o'er a letter
Which the day before was brought him
By a messenger from Suabia,
From the Danube; where through narrow
Valleys the young stream is flowing,
And steep limestone rocks are rising
From the water which reflects them
With their verdant crowns of beech-trees;
Thence the man had come on horseback.
And the letter read as follows:

"Does my comrade still remember
His old Hans von Wildenstein?
Down the Rhine and Danube many
Drops of water have been flowing,
Since we in that war together
Lay before the bivouac-fire;
And I see it by my son's growth,
Who is now a strapping fellow--
Four-and-twenty years he reckons.
First a page unto his highness
The Grand Duke of Wuertemberg;
Then to Tuebingen I sent him.
If I by his debts can judge well,
Which I had to pay for him there,
He must have vast stores of knowledge.
Now he stays with me at home, at
Wildenstein; is hunting stags here,
Hunting foxes, hares and rabbits;
But sometimes the rascal even
Hunts the peasants' pretty daughters.
So 'tis time to think of taming
Him beneath the yoke of marriage.
If I err not, you, my friend, have
Just a daughter suited for him.
With old comrades 'tis the custom
Not to beat around the bush, but
Go straight forward to the business.
So I ask you, shall my Damian
Start upon a tour of courtship
To your castle on the Rhine?
Answer soon. Receive the greetings
Of thy Hans von Wildenstein!
"Postscript: Do you still remember
That great brawl we had at Augsburg,
And the rage of wealthy Fugger,
The ill-humour of his ladies,
Two-and-thirty years ago?"

With great effort tried the Baron
His friend's writing to decipher.
Spent a good half-hour upon it
Ere he came to its conclusion.
Smiling said he then: "A Suabian
Is a devil of a fellow.
One and all they are unpolished.
And coarse-grained is their whole nature;
But within their square-built noddles
Lie rich stores of clever cunning.
Many stupid brainless fellows
Might from them obtain supplies.
Truly my old Hans now even
In old age is calculating
Like the b