Old Kaspar took it from the lad, Who stood expecting by-- And then the old man shook his head, And, with a natural sigh, "'Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he, "Who fell in the great victory. "I find them in the garden; There are many hereabout; And often, when I go to plough, The ploughshare turns them out; For many thousand men," said he, "Were slain in the great victory." "Now tell us what it was about," Young Peterkin he cries; And little Wilhelmine looked up, With wonder-waiting eyes-- "Now tell us all about the war, And what they killed each other for." "It was the English," Kaspar cried, "Who put the French to rout; But what they killed each other for, I never could find out; But things like this, you know, must be In every famous victory. "My father had a cottage then, Yon little stream hard by, They burnt his dwelling to the ground, And he was forced to fly; So with his wife and child he fled, And had not where to lay his head. "They burnt the country all around, And wasted far and wide, And many a tender mother then And new-born infant died; But things like this, you know, must be, At every famous victory. "Great praise the Duke of Marlborough won, And our good Prince Eugene." "But 'twas a very wicked thing," Said little Wilhelmine. "Nay, nay, my little girl," said he, "It was a famous victory." ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON