The reader must picture a stout, big-bellied, short-haired recruiting-officer, with a blue cap, broad, stiff frontispiece, a short sword, blue uniform a size too small, and a raw customer from "Faderland," with wooden shoes and a long-tailed gray coat. The officer was after recruits for a German regiment, and thus went for his susceptible countryman:—
"Lo, dere, Hans! Be dat you?"
"Yaw."
"Come me to be a sojer man."
"Nein!"
"Yaw, come. It be so nice!"
"Nein! I gets shoots."
"Nix. Py tam! it is better as good. It been foon all de vile. You enlists mit me, you gets nine hundred dollars bountish."
"So?"
"Yaw. And you gets such nice clothes as never vas. Shust look at me."
"So?"
"Yaw. And in the morning, ven de trum peets, dat ish de gurnel's gompliments to come an' git your schnapps mit him."
"So?"
"Yaw. And purty soon, bime by, de trum peets again, and dat ish de gurnel's gompliments to come eat some sourkrout un sausage mit him, py dam!"
"So, mynheer?"
"Yaw, it ish so. Den purty soon, bime by, de trum peets, an' dat ish de gurnel's gompliments to ride mit him in der carriage to see your vrou or your Katrina. And den you rides mit him all over de city mit him, and no costs you one tam cent. And bime by de trum peets, and dat ish de gurnel's gompliments to come and schmoke a bipe mit him! And den bime by, purty soon, right away, de trum peets de tuyful, and dat ish de gurnel's gompliments to come and get you nine hundred tollars bountish, I tinks, but guess not, py tam!"
"Yaw! So goot?"
"Yaw! And den de General and Bresident shake hands mit you, and you eat krout mit de Bresident's vrou, and shust live like one fighting rooster, by tam! And den in a little wile you say der Bresident be one nice man, and you gets another hundred tollars bountish; and de Bresident makes one grand general mit you, purty soon I guess, but I tink not. You go mit me?"
"Yaw!"