A flirt of most engaging wiles

Was Jill;

On Jack she lavished all her smiles,

Until

Her slave (and he was not the first)

Of lovesick swains became the worst,

His glance a strong box might have burst,

His sighs were fit to kill.

One April morning, clear and fair,

When both

Of staying home and idling there

In sloth

Were weary, Jack remarked to Jill:

"Oh, what's the sense in sitting still?

Let's mount the slope of yonder hill."

And she was nothing loth.

But as she answered: "What's the use?"

The gruff

Young swain replied: "Oh, there's excuse

Enough.

Your doting parents water lack;

We'll fill a pail and bring it back."

(The reader will perceive that Jack

Was putting up a bluff.)

Thus hand in hand the tempting hill

They scaled,

And Jack proposed a kiss to Jill,

And failed!

One backward start, one step too bold,

And down the hill the couple rolled,

Resembling, if the truth were told,

A luggage train derailed.

With eyes ablaze with anger, she

Exclaimed:

"Well, who'd have thought! You'd ought to be

Ashamed!

You quite forget yourself, it's plain,

So I'll forget you, too. Insane

Young man, I'll say oafweederzane."

(Her German might be blamed.)

But Jack, whose linguist's pride was pricked,

To shine,

Asked: "Meine KÖnigin will nicht

Be mine?"

And when she answered: "Nein" in spleen,

He cried: "Then in the soup tureen

You'll stay. You're not the only queen

Discarded for a nein!"

The moral's made for maidens young

And small:

If you would in a foreign tongue

Enthrall,

Lead off undaunted in a Swede

Or Spanish speech, and you'll succeed,

But they who in a German lead

No favor win at all.