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Dis roused Piet Weiser der Pfaelzer,
Who vas quick to act und dink;
He helt in hand a roller
Vheremit he vas rollin ink.
Und he dake his broof py shtrikin
Der Merican top of his het,
Und make soosh a vine impression,
Dat he left de veller for deat.

Allaweil dese dings oonfolded,
Dere vas rows of anoder kind,
Und drople in de wigwam
Enough to trife dem plind.
Und a crate six-vooted Soudern man
Vot hafe vorked on a Refiew,
Shvear he hope to Gott he mighd pie de forms
If de Breitmann’s book warn’t true.

For de Sout’ vas ploundered derriple,
Und in dat darksome hour
He hafe lossed a yallow-pine maiden,
Of all de land de vlower.
Bright gold doublones a hoondered
For her he’d gladly bay
Ash soon ash a thrip for a ginger-cake,
Und deem it cheap dat day.

To him antworded a Yorker
Who shoomp den dimes de boun-ti-ee:
(De only dings he lossed in de war
Was a sense of broperty.)
Says he, “Votefer you hafe dropped
Some oder shap hafe get,
Und de yallow-pine liked him petter ash you,
On dat it is safe to bet!”

Dead pale pecame dat Soudern brave,
He tidn’t so moosh as yell,
Boot he drop right on to de Yorker,
Und mit von lick bust his shell.
Denn out he flashed his pig-sticker,
Und mit looks of drementous gloom,
Rooshed vildly in de pattle
Dat vas ragin round de room.

Boot in angulo, in de corner-
Anoder quarrel vas grow
‘Twix a Boston shap mit a Londoner;
Und de row ish gekommen so:
De Yankee say dat de H- u -mor
Of soosh writin vas less dan small,
Dough it maket de beoples laughen,
Boot dat vas only all.

Denn a Deutscher say, by Donner!
Dat soosh a baradox
Vould leafe no hope for writers
In all Pandora’s bænder box.
‘Twas like de sayin dat Heine
Hafe no witz in him goot or bad,
Boot he only kept sayin witty dings
To make beoples pelieve he had.

Denn de oder veller be-headed
Dat dere vas not a shbark of foon
In de pad spelt lieds when you lead dem
Into Englisch correctly done:-
Den a Proof Sheet veller respondered,
For he dink de dings vas hard,
“Dat ish shoost like de goot oldt lady
Ash vent to hear Artemus Ward.

“Und say it vas shames de beoples
Vas laugh demselfs most tead
At de boor young veller lecturin,
Vhen he tidn’t know vot he said.”
Hereauf de Yankee answered,
“Gaul dern it:- Shtop your fuss!”
And all de crowd togeder
Go slap in a grand plug-muss.

De Yankee shlog de Proof Sheet
Soosh an awfool smock on de face,
Dat he shvell right oop like a poonkin
Mit a sense of his tisgrace;
Boot der Deutscher boosted an ink-keg
On dop of de oder’s hair:
It vly troo de air like a boomshell – denn-
Mine Gotts! – Vot a sighdt vas dere!

Denn ofer all de shapel
Vierce war vas ragin loose;
Fool many a vighten brinter
Got well ge-gooked his goose.
Fool many a nose mit fisten,
I ween was padly scrouged;
Fool many an eye pright gleamin
Vas ploody out-gegouged.

Dô wart ûfgehouwen, [4]
Dere vas hewin off of pones;
Dô hôrte man darinne
Man heardt soosh treadful croans.
Jach waren dâ die Geste,
De row vas rough and tough,
Genuoge sluogen wunden –
Dere vas plooty wounds enough.