  Mynheer, blease helb a boor oldt man, Vot gomes vrom Sharmany, Mit Fritz, mine tog und only freund, To geep me gompany. I haf no gelt to puy mine pread, No blace to lay me down, For ve vas vanderers, Fritz und I, Und strangers in der down. Some beoples gife us dings to eadt, Und some dey kicks us oudt, Und say, "You ton't got peesnis here, To sdroll der schtreets aboudt!" Vot's dat you say? You puy mine tog To gife me pread to eadt? I vas so boor as nefer vas, But I vas no "tead peat." Vot! sell mine tog, mine leetle tog, Dot vollows me aboudt, Und vags his dail, like anydings, Yene'er I dakes him oudt! Schust look at him, und see him schump! He likes me pooty vell; Und dere vas somedings 'bout dat tog, Mynheer, I vouldn't sell. "Der collar?" Nein, 'tvas somedings else Vrom vich I gould not bart; Und if dot ding vas dook avay, I dinks it prakes mine heart. "Vot vas it, den, aboudt dat tog," You ashk, "dat's not vor sale?" I dells you vat it ish, mine freund: Tish der vag off dat tog's dail! Charles F. Adams. |
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