Those fellows down in parliamentHave kicked up such a fuss,That now we seem election bentTo clean up all the muss.The Grits are sharpening their swordsTo give the Tories fits,While they, with scorching bitter wordsDenounce the faithless Grits.All out of doors is fresh and green,But no more green than weWho help to run the Grit machine,Or bow the Tory knee.We hear the strident party callIn words no one believes;The Liberals are traitors all,The Tories all are thieves.The birds are singing in the trees,Old Summer's back at last,The lilacs scent the morning breeze,The crops are growing fast;Why should we leave these peaceful scenes,And don our vests and coats,To hear those chaps who spilled the beansSlangwhanging for our votes?If we give heed to every taleTold when the campaign's hot,The Tories all should be in jail,The Grits should all be shot.Let's raise more chickens, calves and shoats,The politicians shun,Let's grow more beans and wheat and oats,And help defeat the Hun.
Those fellows down in parliamentHave kicked up such a fuss,That now we seem election bentTo clean up all the muss.The Grits are sharpening their swordsTo give the Tories fits,While they, with scorching bitter wordsDenounce the faithless Grits.
All out of doors is fresh and green,But no more green than weWho help to run the Grit machine,Or bow the Tory knee.We hear the strident party callIn words no one believes;The Liberals are traitors all,The Tories all are thieves.
The birds are singing in the trees,Old Summer's back at last,The lilacs scent the morning breeze,The crops are growing fast;Why should we leave these peaceful scenes,And don our vests and coats,To hear those chaps who spilled the beansSlangwhanging for our votes?
If we give heed to every taleTold when the campaign's hot,The Tories all should be in jail,The Grits should all be shot.Let's raise more chickens, calves and shoats,The politicians shun,Let's grow more beans and wheat and oats,And help defeat the Hun.
As we struggle up life's hillsideWhere the road is hard and long,Weak, discouraged, tired, lonely,And everything gone wrong.When we see some men refusingTheir allotted load to bear,While their brother's back is breaking,Then we know the game's not fair.When we see some men grow wealthy,While their brothers die in France,We rebel at the injustice,And demand an even chance;When we see some children hungry,With no decent clothes to wear,And some other stuffed and pampered,Then we know the game's not fair.When we have to pay high taxesOn our little wooden shack,Though the mortgage isn't settledAnd the interest is back,When the rich man's stately mansion,Doesn't pay its proper share,And he lies about his income,Then we know the game's not fair.When we read in all the papersHow our boys are strafing Fritz,Throwing bombs into his trenchesFor to blow him all to bits,When we think of him that startedThis vile war, then we declareIf the Kaiser goes unpunishedWe shall know the game's not fair.
As we struggle up life's hillsideWhere the road is hard and long,Weak, discouraged, tired, lonely,And everything gone wrong.When we see some men refusingTheir allotted load to bear,While their brother's back is breaking,Then we know the game's not fair.
When we see some men grow wealthy,While their brothers die in France,We rebel at the injustice,And demand an even chance;When we see some children hungry,With no decent clothes to wear,And some other stuffed and pampered,Then we know the game's not fair.
When we have to pay high taxesOn our little wooden shack,Though the mortgage isn't settledAnd the interest is back,When the rich man's stately mansion,Doesn't pay its proper share,And he lies about his income,Then we know the game's not fair.
When we read in all the papersHow our boys are strafing Fritz,Throwing bombs into his trenchesFor to blow him all to bits,When we think of him that startedThis vile war, then we declareIf the Kaiser goes unpunishedWe shall know the game's not fair.
Britty soon now fife years vill pe doneSince ve march into Belgium von day,But since den some beeg rifers have runTroo de pridges, I tink all de vay,Den already de tings seemed so blain,Ven ve shtart oudt to lick de whole vorldVe vas sure dat us Shermans vould reignShoost verefer our flag vas unfurled.For to see dat some tings can't pe doneAll dose Junker man's heads vas too tick,Und, inshtead of a blace in de sun,Ve haf got, vot you call, armyshtick.Vot dot armyshtick baper's aboudtI can't get troo dis headpiece of mineBut dose fellers dot von wrote it oudt,Und us fellers dat lost had to sign.Shoost so soon vas dat Armyshtick madeDen dose allies dey run de whole show,For already deir plans vas all laidVen ve back into Shermany go.Dere vas fellers from England und France,Und Yankees, Italians und Japs,Mit some hoboes dat all get a chanceFrom some blaces not marked on de maps.For six months now dey talk und dey shmoke,Mit no Shermans at all in de gameUnd dey tink up von pully goot shoke,Den dey tell us to write down our name.Dey vould take all our money und ships,Und dose blace in de sun dat ve got.But we ain't handing oudt no free trips,Und won't sign no beace dreaty like dot.
Britty soon now fife years vill pe doneSince ve march into Belgium von day,But since den some beeg rifers have runTroo de pridges, I tink all de vay,Den already de tings seemed so blain,Ven ve shtart oudt to lick de whole vorldVe vas sure dat us Shermans vould reignShoost verefer our flag vas unfurled.
For to see dat some tings can't pe doneAll dose Junker man's heads vas too tick,Und, inshtead of a blace in de sun,Ve haf got, vot you call, armyshtick.Vot dot armyshtick baper's aboudtI can't get troo dis headpiece of mineBut dose fellers dot von wrote it oudt,Und us fellers dat lost had to sign.
Shoost so soon vas dat Armyshtick madeDen dose allies dey run de whole show,For already deir plans vas all laidVen ve back into Shermany go.Dere vas fellers from England und France,Und Yankees, Italians und Japs,Mit some hoboes dat all get a chanceFrom some blaces not marked on de maps.
For six months now dey talk und dey shmoke,Mit no Shermans at all in de gameUnd dey tink up von pully goot shoke,Den dey tell us to write down our name.Dey vould take all our money und ships,Und dose blace in de sun dat ve got.But we ain't handing oudt no free trips,Und won't sign no beace dreaty like dot.
Was it for this, I want to know,We saw our boys to Flanders go;For this that Belgium suffered so,That France withstood the ruthless foe,And said "No further shalt thou go,"That Serbia was plunged in woe,And women wept along the Po;That Poles were herded to and fro,And Anzacs died at Gallipo;That Britain let her plans all go,Laid bare her breast, and took the blow,And held the seas 'neath sun and snowDanger above and death below;That Uncle Sam, though rather slowTo scrap the doctrine of Monroe,Got busy at the final show?For years of blood and tears, althoughWe boast the Kaiser's overthrow,The net results seem these, I trow,That profiteers pile up the dough,And gather where they did not sow,That scythes of death fresh harvests mow,Where Bolshevists fierce whiskers grow,And no Hun yet has eaten crow;That Wild Sinn Feiners, fallen low,Plan proud Britannia's overthrow,Save these the world can little show,But wooden crosses, row on row.In Flanders fields, where poppies blow.
Was it for this, I want to know,We saw our boys to Flanders go;For this that Belgium suffered so,That France withstood the ruthless foe,And said "No further shalt thou go,"That Serbia was plunged in woe,And women wept along the Po;That Poles were herded to and fro,And Anzacs died at Gallipo;That Britain let her plans all go,Laid bare her breast, and took the blow,And held the seas 'neath sun and snowDanger above and death below;That Uncle Sam, though rather slowTo scrap the doctrine of Monroe,Got busy at the final show?
For years of blood and tears, althoughWe boast the Kaiser's overthrow,The net results seem these, I trow,That profiteers pile up the dough,And gather where they did not sow,That scythes of death fresh harvests mow,Where Bolshevists fierce whiskers grow,And no Hun yet has eaten crow;That Wild Sinn Feiners, fallen low,Plan proud Britannia's overthrow,Save these the world can little show,But wooden crosses, row on row.In Flanders fields, where poppies blow.
Now that Heinie is licked to a frazzle,And Fritzie is clipped in the comb,We're holding a big razzle-dazzleTo welcome our soldier boys home.They bore themselves brave in the battleThey kept themselves clean on parade,They herded the Bosches like cattleIn many a nerve-racking raid.In order to do the boys justice,We need all the help we can get,Without it the contract will bust usAnd swamp the committee with debt.So we want all old timers of Wingham,(Although the good town has gone dry)Fast as railroad or auto can bring 'em,To come on the first of July.Perhaps you've grown rich on the prairies,Your farm in town lots you have sold,Or, with products of wheat fields and dairies,Have lined all your pockets with gold,Or it may be your harp strings are rusted,Your measures all halting and lame,Perhaps you're discouraged and busted,And tired of playing the game.If so, come to Wingham this summer,Forget the world's trouble and strife,Our program will sure be a hummer,We'll give you the time of your life.We'll make no untimely suggestions,Concerning the length of your stay,Nor ask you impertinent questionsAbout what you've done while away.
Now that Heinie is licked to a frazzle,And Fritzie is clipped in the comb,We're holding a big razzle-dazzleTo welcome our soldier boys home.They bore themselves brave in the battleThey kept themselves clean on parade,They herded the Bosches like cattleIn many a nerve-racking raid.
In order to do the boys justice,We need all the help we can get,Without it the contract will bust usAnd swamp the committee with debt.So we want all old timers of Wingham,(Although the good town has gone dry)Fast as railroad or auto can bring 'em,To come on the first of July.
Perhaps you've grown rich on the prairies,Your farm in town lots you have sold,Or, with products of wheat fields and dairies,Have lined all your pockets with gold,Or it may be your harp strings are rusted,Your measures all halting and lame,Perhaps you're discouraged and busted,And tired of playing the game.
If so, come to Wingham this summer,Forget the world's trouble and strife,Our program will sure be a hummer,We'll give you the time of your life.We'll make no untimely suggestions,Concerning the length of your stay,Nor ask you impertinent questionsAbout what you've done while away.
("Canadians are using lacrosse sticks to throw hand grenades into German trenches."—News Item.)
"Dere is some tings not right in dis schrap,For dose English and French don't fight fairVen dey pring in de Turco and JapUnd de Hindu and beeg Russian bear;But already us goot Sherman mansVe vas ending dot var britty quick,Till dey shtart oop some more dirty blans,Ven dose poys vill trow bombs mit a shtick.Ve don't mind some old rifles und guns,Nor dose airships und Dreadnoughts und tings,Ve don't care if dey call us de Huns,[1]Und ve laugh at de song dat dey sings:But dose teufels from Canada come,Dey vould blay us von mean shabby trick,For ve can't get avay from de bombDat dey trow from de end of a shtick.Ven ve tink ve are safe for de day,Mit goot sausage and saurkraut filled,Dose Canadians shtart oop to blayMit a game dat ve nefer haf drilled.Ven ve see dose tings fly troo de airDen already ve feel britty sick;If dey hit us dey don't seem to care,Ven dey trow dose old bombs mit a shtick.Ven ve shoots all our cartridge avay,Und de vagons don't pring any more;Ven our shells get more scarce efry day,Mit our shirts und our breechaloons tore,Und de shmokes und de limburger done(Dot is spreading it on britty tick),Den I tells you it isn't no funVen dose poys vill trow bombs mit a shtick."
"Dere is some tings not right in dis schrap,For dose English and French don't fight fairVen dey pring in de Turco and JapUnd de Hindu and beeg Russian bear;But already us goot Sherman mansVe vas ending dot var britty quick,Till dey shtart oop some more dirty blans,Ven dose poys vill trow bombs mit a shtick.
Ve don't mind some old rifles und guns,Nor dose airships und Dreadnoughts und tings,Ve don't care if dey call us de Huns,[1]Und ve laugh at de song dat dey sings:But dose teufels from Canada come,Dey vould blay us von mean shabby trick,For ve can't get avay from de bombDat dey trow from de end of a shtick.
Ven ve tink ve are safe for de day,Mit goot sausage and saurkraut filled,Dose Canadians shtart oop to blayMit a game dat ve nefer haf drilled.Ven ve see dose tings fly troo de airDen already ve feel britty sick;If dey hit us dey don't seem to care,Ven dey trow dose old bombs mit a shtick.
Ven ve shoots all our cartridge avay,Und de vagons don't pring any more;Ven our shells get more scarce efry day,Mit our shirts und our breechaloons tore,Und de shmokes und de limburger done(Dot is spreading it on britty tick),Den I tells you it isn't no funVen dose poys vill trow bombs mit a shtick."
[1]Tipperary
[1]Tipperary
(The Germans say that if it hadn't been for the Canadian Rats they would have got through to Calais.—News Item.)
Dere's a ting dat I'll nefer furshtay.Ven ve shtart oop dat goot poison gas,Vy dose Rats don't get oudt of de vay,So us Shermans to Ypres can pass.Ven ve shoots all our cartridge avay,Dat's already deir time to retreat;Vot's de use so ve make de beeg fight,If dose Rats don't know ven dey get beat?Mit de gas dey gets britty soon killed,Den ve send dem de shrapnel some more,Und de bombshell mit limburger filled,Dat vill shmell vorse dan Duffeldorf's shtore;But dose beggars come back mit a rush,Und I twice mit deir bay'nets get pricked;Vot's de use so ve make de beeg push,If dose Rats don't know ven dey get licked?I soon made some goot running, you pet!Ven dey come like vild teufels behind;All my life I vill dream of dem yet,For I tought sure mine bapers vos signed.Dey came on mit a yump und a yellTill right into our trenches dey dashed;Vot's de use so ve trow de beeg shell,If dose Rats don't know ven dey get smashed?Ve haf tried efry blan dat ve knows,But to scare dem no vay haf ve found,(How ve vish dey had shtayed vere de snowsBlow dose maples und pines all around).Day und night dey vill put oop de shcrap,Und already ve lose vot ve got;Vot's de use for us setting de trap,If dose Rats don't know ven dey get caught.
Dere's a ting dat I'll nefer furshtay.Ven ve shtart oop dat goot poison gas,Vy dose Rats don't get oudt of de vay,So us Shermans to Ypres can pass.Ven ve shoots all our cartridge avay,Dat's already deir time to retreat;Vot's de use so ve make de beeg fight,If dose Rats don't know ven dey get beat?
Mit de gas dey gets britty soon killed,Den ve send dem de shrapnel some more,Und de bombshell mit limburger filled,Dat vill shmell vorse dan Duffeldorf's shtore;But dose beggars come back mit a rush,Und I twice mit deir bay'nets get pricked;Vot's de use so ve make de beeg push,If dose Rats don't know ven dey get licked?
I soon made some goot running, you pet!Ven dey come like vild teufels behind;All my life I vill dream of dem yet,For I tought sure mine bapers vos signed.Dey came on mit a yump und a yellTill right into our trenches dey dashed;Vot's de use so ve trow de beeg shell,If dose Rats don't know ven dey get smashed?
Ve haf tried efry blan dat ve knows,But to scare dem no vay haf ve found,(How ve vish dey had shtayed vere de snowsBlow dose maples und pines all around).Day und night dey vill put oop de shcrap,Und already ve lose vot ve got;Vot's de use for us setting de trap,If dose Rats don't know ven dey get caught.
Ven der Kaiser vould shtart some beeg shtunt,All dose shwells den soon come to de front,Und de prince, und de kingSeem to be de whole ting,Mit old Fritz at de heel of de hunt.But somedimes ven de Kaiser's in doubt,Und already can't find his vay oudt;Ven dose hard shpots he hits,Den he say—"Mine dear Fritz,Vot you tinks of dis peesness, old Scoudt?"So it vas mit dose junkers so shlick,Dey vould soon end dis var britty quick;But, shoost after de MarneDe crawl unter de barn,For already dey feel mighty sick.Den der kaiser say—"Fritzie, old chap,Let me know vot you tink of dis schrap;Vill ve lick dose beeg shmoke,Or go britty soon proke,Mit de faderland viped off de map?"Den I say—"Dat's von very hard case;Can tree jacks beat four kings und some ace?Ven ve hafn't de cardVe must bluff britty hard,Or shoost trow down our hand in disgrace.If like checkers ve blay, don't forgetDey got more men dan ve haf, you bet!If ve makes some beeg schore,Und not man off no more,Ve may shtop mit a draw, maype yet."Den der Kaiser say—"Tanks, Mr. Strauss,On your back dere don't grow any moss;I'll shoost blay some more pranksOn dose silly old Yanks"Den he gif me von nice iron cross.
Ven der Kaiser vould shtart some beeg shtunt,All dose shwells den soon come to de front,Und de prince, und de kingSeem to be de whole ting,Mit old Fritz at de heel of de hunt.
But somedimes ven de Kaiser's in doubt,Und already can't find his vay oudt;Ven dose hard shpots he hits,Den he say—"Mine dear Fritz,Vot you tinks of dis peesness, old Scoudt?"
So it vas mit dose junkers so shlick,Dey vould soon end dis var britty quick;But, shoost after de MarneDe crawl unter de barn,For already dey feel mighty sick.
Den der kaiser say—"Fritzie, old chap,Let me know vot you tink of dis schrap;Vill ve lick dose beeg shmoke,Or go britty soon proke,Mit de faderland viped off de map?"
Den I say—"Dat's von very hard case;Can tree jacks beat four kings und some ace?Ven ve hafn't de cardVe must bluff britty hard,Or shoost trow down our hand in disgrace.
If like checkers ve blay, don't forgetDey got more men dan ve haf, you bet!If ve makes some beeg schore,Und not man off no more,Ve may shtop mit a draw, maype yet."
Den der Kaiser say—"Tanks, Mr. Strauss,On your back dere don't grow any moss;I'll shoost blay some more pranksOn dose silly old Yanks"Den he gif me von nice iron cross.
Ven der Kaiser his var bugles blow,Und say: "Fritz, to de front you must go,"Den it vasn't so strange,I vas glad for de change;But I hope mine Katrina don't know.Britty soon ve're de whole of de show,Und like vater dose goot liquors flow;Ven, mit vine und champaigneVe got drunk in Louvain,Dere vas tings mine Katrina don't know.Soon already, ve fight mit de foe,For von year, und it seems britty slow;If I'm killed in de trenchBy dose English und FrenchDen perhaps mine Katrina von't know.So dis time, ven dose hand grenades trow,Den I tinks soon it's time for to go;If mine back's full mit lead,Not mine breast, nor mine head,Dat's von ting mine Katrina don't know.Ven dey takes me some blace down pelow,Mit tree hundred vite peds in von row;For dose nice English nurse[2]I forget dat beeg curse,But I'm glad mine Katrina don't know.
Ven der Kaiser his var bugles blow,Und say: "Fritz, to de front you must go,"Den it vasn't so strange,I vas glad for de change;But I hope mine Katrina don't know.
Britty soon ve're de whole of de show,Und like vater dose goot liquors flow;Ven, mit vine und champaigneVe got drunk in Louvain,Dere vas tings mine Katrina don't know.
Soon already, ve fight mit de foe,For von year, und it seems britty slow;If I'm killed in de trenchBy dose English und FrenchDen perhaps mine Katrina von't know.
So dis time, ven dose hand grenades trow,Den I tinks soon it's time for to go;If mine back's full mit lead,Not mine breast, nor mine head,Dat's von ting mine Katrina don't know.
Ven dey takes me some blace down pelow,Mit tree hundred vite peds in von row;For dose nice English nurse[2]I forget dat beeg curse,But I'm glad mine Katrina don't know.
[2]Gott Strafe England!
[2]Gott Strafe England!
Since I'm held in his hospital up,Mine poor back full mit shrapnel und leadVen I tink of der Kaiser und Krupp,Dere's a ting dat von't come troo mine head.Vot already I'm tinking aboudt,To pelieve in mine heart I can't yet,But de more dat I knows I find oudtVy dose Englishmans frightened don't get.Ve haf guns dat vill shoot forty miles,Dat de fort und de city desthroys;Ve haf Zepps. of de latest new shtyles;Ve haf millions of men und more poys;Ve haf hundreds of unterseebootsDat all ships from de ocean vill drive,Und ve kills, und ve burns, and ve shootsTill dere von't pe no English alive.But for none of dese tings vill dey shcareIt's deir nerve (dat's, I tink, vat they call),Ven ve tink ve haf licked dem, I shwearDat dose English shoost laugh und play ball.But ven Shermans get oudt from de trench,Den ve crawl avay somewhere to shmoke,Mit some schooners de beeg thirst to quench,For already our hearts vas near proke.Ven dose English come on mit a run,Den deir officers lead all de vay;But us Shermans get chained to de gun,Vile de boss in some safe blace vill shtay,Maype dat's vy ve gets de cold feet,Und dose English don't scare vort a cent;For a private vil nefer redreatFrom de blace vere his leader first vent.
Since I'm held in his hospital up,Mine poor back full mit shrapnel und leadVen I tink of der Kaiser und Krupp,Dere's a ting dat von't come troo mine head.Vot already I'm tinking aboudt,To pelieve in mine heart I can't yet,But de more dat I knows I find oudtVy dose Englishmans frightened don't get.
Ve haf guns dat vill shoot forty miles,Dat de fort und de city desthroys;Ve haf Zepps. of de latest new shtyles;Ve haf millions of men und more poys;Ve haf hundreds of unterseebootsDat all ships from de ocean vill drive,Und ve kills, und ve burns, and ve shootsTill dere von't pe no English alive.
But for none of dese tings vill dey shcareIt's deir nerve (dat's, I tink, vat they call),Ven ve tink ve haf licked dem, I shwearDat dose English shoost laugh und play ball.But ven Shermans get oudt from de trench,Den ve crawl avay somewhere to shmoke,Mit some schooners de beeg thirst to quench,For already our hearts vas near proke.
Ven dose English come on mit a run,Den deir officers lead all de vay;But us Shermans get chained to de gun,Vile de boss in some safe blace vill shtay,Maype dat's vy ve gets de cold feet,Und dose English don't scare vort a cent;For a private vil nefer redreatFrom de blace vere his leader first vent.
Dear Katrina—Dis letter I writeFrom von hospital, somevere in France,For I get so proke oop in de fightDat dis maype vill be mine last chance.Vell, I hold von whole trench py mineself,Mit some poys dat shoost come to de front;Britty soon dey get laid on de shelf,Den your Fritz have to do be beeg shtunt.Ven I shoot all dose English and French,Den already I tinks I vill shmoke,Den I hunts von safe blace in de trench,Vere de rain mit de ground doesn't soak.Soon I vake mit a punch from a gun,Und I hear von Canadian say:"Come mit me, you darned shleepy old Hun,"Den he shteal mine seegars all avay.Den de next ting I know I am here,For already de vorld had turned plack;Dat Canadian certain vos queer,For he carry me in on his back.From mine preast so mooch hardvare got oudtBritty soon I can shtart von shmall shtore;If dere's any old junk mans aboudtDey might call at dis hospital door.Now Katrina don't vorry some more,Keep de grubs from de cabbage avay,Und pe sure dat you lock oop de door,Ven alone in de house you must shtay.Put some flowers on leetle Karl's grave;All de time now I'm glad he is dead;Vot's de use to grow oop shtrong und prave,Only shoost to get shot troo de head?Mine truly, Fritz.
Dear Katrina—Dis letter I writeFrom von hospital, somevere in France,For I get so proke oop in de fightDat dis maype vill be mine last chance.Vell, I hold von whole trench py mineself,Mit some poys dat shoost come to de front;Britty soon dey get laid on de shelf,Den your Fritz have to do be beeg shtunt.
Ven I shoot all dose English and French,Den already I tinks I vill shmoke,Den I hunts von safe blace in de trench,Vere de rain mit de ground doesn't soak.Soon I vake mit a punch from a gun,Und I hear von Canadian say:"Come mit me, you darned shleepy old Hun,"Den he shteal mine seegars all avay.
Den de next ting I know I am here,For already de vorld had turned plack;Dat Canadian certain vos queer,For he carry me in on his back.From mine preast so mooch hardvare got oudtBritty soon I can shtart von shmall shtore;If dere's any old junk mans aboudtDey might call at dis hospital door.
Now Katrina don't vorry some more,Keep de grubs from de cabbage avay,Und pe sure dat you lock oop de door,Ven alone in de house you must shtay.Put some flowers on leetle Karl's grave;All de time now I'm glad he is dead;Vot's de use to grow oop shtrong und prave,Only shoost to get shot troo de head?
Mine truly, Fritz.
Mine dear Fritz: It shoost makes me feel plueVen I get me dat letter you write,For already mine fears haf come trueDat you maype get hurt in dis fight,Vot's de use so you make de beeg splash,Und you hold de whole trench py your self?Dat don't put no more meat in mine hashUnd not any more pread on mine shelf.Do you tink dat der Kaiser vill care?If he gifs you von cheap iron cross,Ven I lose mine own Fritz I can't shpare,Vot vill dat do to make oop mine loss?Britty soon all de men haf gone oudt,Und von't maype come back any more;Dere's shoost left yet old Hans, mit de goudt,Und de Duffledorf poy at de shtore.You vill now shtay von prisoner yet,Till already de var is all done,But perhaps dat's more safer, you pet,Dan to shtand in de front of de gun.Dere's shoost von ting I tell you; bevareOf dose nurse mit de shining plack eyes,If dey got some pink cheeks, und brown hair,Your Katrina is double deir size.Vot you tink, Fritz? Der Kaiser's men come,Und de cherries all pick from de trees,Den dey take all mine apples and plum,Und mine carrots und cabbages seize;De potatoes dey got mit de rest,Und, pecause I vould raise von beeg row,Dey shoost tell me, pull down mit mine vestUnd dey call me von noisy old frau.Yours yet, Katrina.
Mine dear Fritz: It shoost makes me feel plueVen I get me dat letter you write,For already mine fears haf come trueDat you maype get hurt in dis fight,Vot's de use so you make de beeg splash,Und you hold de whole trench py your self?Dat don't put no more meat in mine hashUnd not any more pread on mine shelf.
Do you tink dat der Kaiser vill care?If he gifs you von cheap iron cross,Ven I lose mine own Fritz I can't shpare,Vot vill dat do to make oop mine loss?Britty soon all de men haf gone oudt,Und von't maype come back any more;Dere's shoost left yet old Hans, mit de goudt,Und de Duffledorf poy at de shtore.
You vill now shtay von prisoner yet,Till already de var is all done,But perhaps dat's more safer, you pet,Dan to shtand in de front of de gun.Dere's shoost von ting I tell you; bevareOf dose nurse mit de shining plack eyes,If dey got some pink cheeks, und brown hair,Your Katrina is double deir size.
Vot you tink, Fritz? Der Kaiser's men come,Und de cherries all pick from de trees,Den dey take all mine apples and plum,Und mine carrots und cabbages seize;De potatoes dey got mit de rest,Und, pecause I vould raise von beeg row,Dey shoost tell me, pull down mit mine vestUnd dey call me von noisy old frau.
Yours yet, Katrina.
Dear Katrina,—Dis letter you getSo already you know how I vas;Vell, dere's von ting dat troubles me yet,Und I tells you de reason pecause;Dose nurse doctors you tink vas so gayHaf de heaves, und blind staggers und gout,Und dey trow dose nice cabbage avayDat vould make me some goot saur-kraut.Und de limburger cheese dat you sent,Dat vas making me feel shtrong und vell,Britty soon mit the garbage it vent,For dose nurses dey don't like de shmell.Ven I ask for pork sausages vonce,Den dey say, (vot I tells you is true,)"Don't you know, you fat-headed old dunce,Dose vill gif you de tic-doul-our-eux."Dey von't let me no liverwurst eat;For dey say it ain't fit for de crows.Ven I ask for some shmiercase so shweet,Den dey laugh und dey turn up deir nose,Dey shoost feed me some custards und jellUnd some broth dat I drink mit a cup,How dey tink I vill efer get vellIf dey don't keep mine stomach filled up?Ven dis var vill get ofer you pet!Den some pickled pig's feet I vill buy,Mit bologna and shnapps, maype yet,Und some coffee to drink ven I'm dry,Britty soon to mine bed I musht go,So no more I can't write you shoost now;Gif mine luf to dose beeples ve knowUnd take some for yourself, mine dear frau.Mine truly, Fritz.
Dear Katrina,—Dis letter you getSo already you know how I vas;Vell, dere's von ting dat troubles me yet,Und I tells you de reason pecause;Dose nurse doctors you tink vas so gayHaf de heaves, und blind staggers und gout,Und dey trow dose nice cabbage avayDat vould make me some goot saur-kraut.
Und de limburger cheese dat you sent,Dat vas making me feel shtrong und vell,Britty soon mit the garbage it vent,For dose nurses dey don't like de shmell.Ven I ask for pork sausages vonce,Den dey say, (vot I tells you is true,)"Don't you know, you fat-headed old dunce,Dose vill gif you de tic-doul-our-eux."
Dey von't let me no liverwurst eat;For dey say it ain't fit for de crows.Ven I ask for some shmiercase so shweet,Den dey laugh und dey turn up deir nose,Dey shoost feed me some custards und jellUnd some broth dat I drink mit a cup,How dey tink I vill efer get vellIf dey don't keep mine stomach filled up?
Ven dis var vill get ofer you pet!Den some pickled pig's feet I vill buy,Mit bologna and shnapps, maype yet,Und some coffee to drink ven I'm dry,Britty soon to mine bed I musht go,So no more I can't write you shoost now;Gif mine luf to dose beeples ve knowUnd take some for yourself, mine dear frau.
Mine truly, Fritz.
Mine dear Fritz,—Vot to tink I don't know,Ven dose hospital letters I get,But mine tears dey vill run britty shlow,Till I hear some tings different yet,Ven you're sick like you tries to make oudt,Vot you vant mit some shmeircase to eat,Und pork sausages, coffee and krautUnd limburger und pickled pig's feet?I shoost tink you contented might shtay,Till de var is all ofer und done,Mit some custards und jells like you say,Dat is better dan facing de gun.Ve get nefer such goot tings like deseHere at home in de old Faderland,For dose English shut up all de seasVen to shtarve us goot Shermans dey planned.Ven de men und de poys vent avayFor to fight for de goot Faderland,Den de vomans must vork all de dayMit a piece of plack bread in deir hand.Dere's no meat now, nor butter at all,Shoost de tings ve can grow in de ground;Und already I'm getting so shmall,Dat mine dress vill go twice times around.All dat cash in de bank dat ve haf,Ven de Kaiser's men need it, dey said,If dey takes efry cent dat ve save,Schraps of baper dey gifs us instead.But I fool dose chaps vonce, britty soon,For I put all de gold in a sack,Mit your vatch, und mine brooches und shpoonIn de garden I bury dem back.Yours yet, Katrina.
Mine dear Fritz,—Vot to tink I don't know,Ven dose hospital letters I get,But mine tears dey vill run britty shlow,Till I hear some tings different yet,Ven you're sick like you tries to make oudt,Vot you vant mit some shmeircase to eat,Und pork sausages, coffee and krautUnd limburger und pickled pig's feet?
I shoost tink you contented might shtay,Till de var is all ofer und done,Mit some custards und jells like you say,Dat is better dan facing de gun.Ve get nefer such goot tings like deseHere at home in de old Faderland,For dose English shut up all de seasVen to shtarve us goot Shermans dey planned.
Ven de men und de poys vent avayFor to fight for de goot Faderland,Den de vomans must vork all de dayMit a piece of plack bread in deir hand.Dere's no meat now, nor butter at all,Shoost de tings ve can grow in de ground;Und already I'm getting so shmall,Dat mine dress vill go twice times around.
All dat cash in de bank dat ve haf,Ven de Kaiser's men need it, dey said,If dey takes efry cent dat ve save,Schraps of baper dey gifs us instead.But I fool dose chaps vonce, britty soon,For I put all de gold in a sack,Mit your vatch, und mine brooches und shpoonIn de garden I bury dem back.
Yours yet, Katrina.
Vot's de use for some beeples to blow,Und to make some beeg fools mit demselvesVen already de tings dey don't knowVould soon fill all de books on de shelves?Ven I'm oudt in de hospital yard,Und go unter de tree mit de rest,Den I shmoke, und I blay some more cardMit von chap from de Canada Vest.Dis here feller, his name is Von Krink,Und his fader from Shermany go,He vill tell me some lies I don't tink,From de blace vere dose maple leafs grow.Dat beeg farm of his dad's is so videDey musht drive all deir horses mit shteam,Und it take dem, to plow down de side,Von whole veek mit a buffalo team.Und to cross dat beeg country, he say,Dey go five or six days on de train;Dey could shtick in von corner avay,De whole Faderland, England und Spain.Dey haf rivers more beeg as de Rhine,Und some forests as vide as de sea,Und dose veat fields, mit homesteads so fine,Dey vill gif von for notting to me.Vot's de use den ve fight, I don't know,For von shmall shtrip of land py de sea,For if dis feller tells me vot's so,Den already beeg fools ve must pe.Ven dis var vill get ofer, you bet,So dat me und Katrina can go,I vill get me von farm maype yet,From de blace vere dose maple leafs grow.
Vot's de use for some beeples to blow,Und to make some beeg fools mit demselvesVen already de tings dey don't knowVould soon fill all de books on de shelves?Ven I'm oudt in de hospital yard,Und go unter de tree mit de rest,Den I shmoke, und I blay some more cardMit von chap from de Canada Vest.
Dis here feller, his name is Von Krink,Und his fader from Shermany go,He vill tell me some lies I don't tink,From de blace vere dose maple leafs grow.Dat beeg farm of his dad's is so videDey musht drive all deir horses mit shteam,Und it take dem, to plow down de side,Von whole veek mit a buffalo team.
Und to cross dat beeg country, he say,Dey go five or six days on de train;Dey could shtick in von corner avay,De whole Faderland, England und Spain.Dey haf rivers more beeg as de Rhine,Und some forests as vide as de sea,Und dose veat fields, mit homesteads so fine,Dey vill gif von for notting to me.
Vot's de use den ve fight, I don't know,For von shmall shtrip of land py de sea,For if dis feller tells me vot's so,Den already beeg fools ve must pe.Ven dis var vill get ofer, you bet,So dat me und Katrina can go,I vill get me von farm maype yet,From de blace vere dose maple leafs grow.
Seems like someting go wrong mit mine headSince de day ven I make de beeg fight,Und mine heart gets so heafy like leadVen I dries some more bieces to write.Dot is vy I so seldom don't wrote'Bout some tings dat vill happen to meSince dose shells, vot you call? get mine goat,Und I am only von left out of tree.Dot Canadian feller, Von Krink,Ven I say, "nix furshtay" to his talk,He shoost tells me to take von more tink,Or already he'll knock off mine plock.Ven I tells him de tings dat he sayI can't find dem in mine leetle book,Den he varn me to not get too gayBritty soon or he'll gif me de hook.Den he say dat de Kaiser's a chump,Und his vorks dey vos shlipping a cog,Und his crown vill get trowed in de dump,For he put de whole vorld on de hog;Dot us Shermans vos all off our baseUnd already our goose vos cooked prown;Britty soon ourselves home ve can chase,Und den go avay back und sit down.Vot he somedimes vould mean I don't knowVen he gifs me dis foolishness talk,If I ask him he say, "Shoost go slow,Mine dear Fritz, ven you're oudt for a valk."Dot is not like de English I shpoke,Vot I learn in de books I haf read.Den no vunder mine heart is near proke;Und Von Krink says dere's veels in mine head.
Seems like someting go wrong mit mine headSince de day ven I make de beeg fight,Und mine heart gets so heafy like leadVen I dries some more bieces to write.Dot is vy I so seldom don't wrote'Bout some tings dat vill happen to meSince dose shells, vot you call? get mine goat,Und I am only von left out of tree.
Dot Canadian feller, Von Krink,Ven I say, "nix furshtay" to his talk,He shoost tells me to take von more tink,Or already he'll knock off mine plock.Ven I tells him de tings dat he sayI can't find dem in mine leetle book,Den he varn me to not get too gayBritty soon or he'll gif me de hook.
Den he say dat de Kaiser's a chump,Und his vorks dey vos shlipping a cog,Und his crown vill get trowed in de dump,For he put de whole vorld on de hog;Dot us Shermans vos all off our baseUnd already our goose vos cooked prown;Britty soon ourselves home ve can chase,Und den go avay back und sit down.
Vot he somedimes vould mean I don't knowVen he gifs me dis foolishness talk,If I ask him he say, "Shoost go slow,Mine dear Fritz, ven you're oudt for a valk."Dot is not like de English I shpoke,Vot I learn in de books I haf read.Den no vunder mine heart is near proke;Und Von Krink says dere's veels in mine head.
Vile I vait in his hospital yardFor dose holes in mine back to fill up,Den mine brain it vould vork pritty hard,Like von vagon dat climbs de hill up.Vill dis var soon get done, I don't know,So some more mine Katrina vill shmile,Vonce we tought ve vould vin long agoBut ve're learning some tings, all de vile.Dere seems millions of men mit de gun,Shoost like ants shwarming oudt of de hill.From all ofer dis vorld dey haf runUs goot Shermans already to kill.Ve believed dat dem French vas no goot,Shonnie Bull ve vould shtarve in his isle,Ve vould sink all his ships dat pring foodt,But ve're learning some tings all de vile.It will not pe so easy, I tink,Shonnie Bull to put down on de floor,For venefer his ships ve vill sink,Pritty soon he vas puilding some more,Dose beeg zepps, und dose unterseebootsDat ve make mit de latest new shtyle;If dey don't always hit vot dey shoots,Ve must learn some more tings all de vile.Ven already ve dakes von shmall town,Den ve lose him a couple of dimes,Shoost so soon von beeg hill ve goes down,Dere's anoder von up dat ve climbs.Some goot Shermans vos lifing to-day,In dose drenches for five hundred mile,Ven dose English und French vill get gayDen ve show dem some tings, all de vile.
Vile I vait in his hospital yardFor dose holes in mine back to fill up,Den mine brain it vould vork pritty hard,Like von vagon dat climbs de hill up.Vill dis var soon get done, I don't know,So some more mine Katrina vill shmile,Vonce we tought ve vould vin long agoBut ve're learning some tings, all de vile.
Dere seems millions of men mit de gun,Shoost like ants shwarming oudt of de hill.From all ofer dis vorld dey haf runUs goot Shermans already to kill.Ve believed dat dem French vas no goot,Shonnie Bull ve vould shtarve in his isle,Ve vould sink all his ships dat pring foodt,But ve're learning some tings all de vile.
It will not pe so easy, I tink,Shonnie Bull to put down on de floor,For venefer his ships ve vill sink,Pritty soon he vas puilding some more,Dose beeg zepps, und dose unterseebootsDat ve make mit de latest new shtyle;If dey don't always hit vot dey shoots,Ve must learn some more tings all de vile.
Ven already ve dakes von shmall town,Den ve lose him a couple of dimes,Shoost so soon von beeg hill ve goes down,Dere's anoder von up dat ve climbs.Some goot Shermans vos lifing to-day,In dose drenches for five hundred mile,Ven dose English und French vill get gayDen ve show dem some tings, all de vile.
Yaw, de Kaiser he write me von day,Shoost so soon he find oudt he get shtuck;First his letters dey come mit de dray,Now de're filling von beeg motor truck,Soon, already, I dells him vot's drue,Dat some tings don't look goot in dis fight,Den der Kaiser he feel britty plue,Und like dis vay to me he vill write."Mine dear Fritz,—Since Von Tirp has gone oudt,Dere's no von around here I can trust,So I vant you to dell me, old scoudt,Vill it pe de vorld power, or bust?Ven ve licked de Russ, English und French,Den de Dago und Portugee came,Seems de deeper ve dig in de trenchDe more fellers get into de game.Mine beeg armies dey soon melt avay,Like von shnow pank goes down mit de sun,Ve keep losing more men efry day,Und dose bapers say, "notting vas done,"Dose new zeppelin ships vas a fake,Shoost de fraus und de kiddies dey get,Und de unterseebootens ve make,Like de fish dey get caught mit de net.Soon our foes take de skin mit de fleece,So I vant you to hear vot dey say:If deir talk seems to listen like peace,Den you send me de vord right avay.Yaw, mine Fritz, you must dell me some tings,Shoost so soon you get on to deir track,Und de feller mine letter dat prings,Vill already your answer dake back."
Yaw, de Kaiser he write me von day,Shoost so soon he find oudt he get shtuck;First his letters dey come mit de dray,Now de're filling von beeg motor truck,Soon, already, I dells him vot's drue,Dat some tings don't look goot in dis fight,Den der Kaiser he feel britty plue,Und like dis vay to me he vill write.
"Mine dear Fritz,—Since Von Tirp has gone oudt,Dere's no von around here I can trust,So I vant you to dell me, old scoudt,Vill it pe de vorld power, or bust?Ven ve licked de Russ, English und French,Den de Dago und Portugee came,Seems de deeper ve dig in de trenchDe more fellers get into de game.
Mine beeg armies dey soon melt avay,Like von shnow pank goes down mit de sun,Ve keep losing more men efry day,Und dose bapers say, "notting vas done,"Dose new zeppelin ships vas a fake,Shoost de fraus und de kiddies dey get,Und de unterseebootens ve make,Like de fish dey get caught mit de net.
Soon our foes take de skin mit de fleece,So I vant you to hear vot dey say:If deir talk seems to listen like peace,Den you send me de vord right avay.Yaw, mine Fritz, you must dell me some tings,Shoost so soon you get on to deir track,Und de feller mine letter dat prings,Vill already your answer dake back."
Mine dear Kaiser,—I'm telling you straight,Dat ve nefer can vin dis beeg fight,Dough de Faderland armies vas great,Dere is udders dat's greater, all right,Shoost you make de goot beace britty soon,Right avay, or you notting haf got;Ven you sups mit de teufel, de spoonVill already, somedimes get too hot.Shoost cut oudt dat beeg strafe dat you make,Ven you can't mit dose Englishmans pull,Und you say it vas all a mistake,For you lufs your dear cousin, John Bull.Den you cheat dose fool English some more,Like for forty long years ve haf done:Dey'll forget den dose treaties ve tore,Und no more vill dey call us de Hun.You can fix tings quite easy mit France,Shoost you gif up de Alsace-Loraine,Den venefer ve see de goot chanceVe vill march in and take dem again;Den dere's Russia and Serbia too,Vill vant pay for de men dat ve kill;Now I tells you de ting dat you doYou say Austria vill settle deir bill.Dere's no trouble vill come from de Yanks,Since ve mix dem in Mexico up;Ven a feller get bit vonce, no tanks!He von't fool any more mit de pup;For de Belgians some tings must be done;So shoost bromise de monies to pay,Till ve get back dose blace in de sun,Den ve vink, und ve say, "nix furshtay."
Mine dear Kaiser,—I'm telling you straight,Dat ve nefer can vin dis beeg fight,Dough de Faderland armies vas great,Dere is udders dat's greater, all right,Shoost you make de goot beace britty soon,Right avay, or you notting haf got;Ven you sups mit de teufel, de spoonVill already, somedimes get too hot.
Shoost cut oudt dat beeg strafe dat you make,Ven you can't mit dose Englishmans pull,Und you say it vas all a mistake,For you lufs your dear cousin, John Bull.Den you cheat dose fool English some more,Like for forty long years ve haf done:Dey'll forget den dose treaties ve tore,Und no more vill dey call us de Hun.
You can fix tings quite easy mit France,Shoost you gif up de Alsace-Loraine,Den venefer ve see de goot chanceVe vill march in and take dem again;Den dere's Russia and Serbia too,Vill vant pay for de men dat ve kill;Now I tells you de ting dat you doYou say Austria vill settle deir bill.
Dere's no trouble vill come from de Yanks,Since ve mix dem in Mexico up;Ven a feller get bit vonce, no tanks!He von't fool any more mit de pup;For de Belgians some tings must be done;So shoost bromise de monies to pay,Till ve get back dose blace in de sun,Den ve vink, und ve say, "nix furshtay."