  Vhen shnow und ice vas on der ground, Und merry shleigh-bells shingle; Vhen Shack Frost he vas peen around, Und make mine oldt ears tingle— I hear dhose roguish gamins say, "Let shoy pe unconfined!" Und dhen dhey go for efry shleigh, Und yell, "Cut, cut pehind!" It makes me shust feel young some more, To hear dhose youngsters yell, Und eef I don'd vas shtiff und sore, Py shings! I shust vould—Vell, Vhen some oldt pung was coomin' py, I dink I'd feel inclined To shump right in upon der shly, Und shout, "Cut, cut pehind!" I mind me vot mine fader said Vonce vhen I vas a poy, Mit meeschief alvays in mine head, Und fool of life und shoy. "Now, Hans, keep off der shleighs," says he, "Or else shust bear in mind, I dake you righdt across my knee, Und cut, cut, cut pehind!" Vell, dot vas years und years ago, Und mine young Yawcob too, Vas now shkydoodling droo der shnow, Shust like I used to do; Und ven der pungs coom py mine house, I shust peeks droo der plind, Und sings oudt, "Go id, Yawcob Strauss, Cut, cut, cut, cut, pehind!" Charles Follen Adams, in Harper's. |
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