The present edition embraces all the Breitmann poems which have as yet appeared; and the publisher trusts that in their collected form they will be found much more attractive than in scattered volumes. Many new lyrics, illustrating the hero's travels in Europe, have been added, and these, it is believed, are not inferior to their predecessors. N. TRUBNER. The Breitmann Ballads. ------- HANS BREITMANN'S BARTY. HANS BREITMANN gife a barty; Dey had biano-blayin', I felled in lofe mit a Merican frau, Her name vas Madilda Yane. She hat haar as prown ash a pretzel, Her eyes vas himmel-plue, Und vhen dey looket indo mine, Dey shplit mine heart in dwo. Hans Breitmann gife a barty, I vent dere you'll pe pound; I valtzet mit Matilda Yane, Und vent shpinnen' round und round. De pootiest Fraulein in de house, She vayed 'pout dwo hoondred pound, Und efery dime she gife a shoomp She make de vindows sound. Hans Breitmann gife a barty, I dells you it cost him dear; Dey rolled in more ash sefen kecks Of foost-rate lager beer. Und vhenefer dey knocks de shpicket in De deutschers gifes a cheer; I dinks dot so vine a barty Nefer coom to a het dis year. Hans Breitmann gife a barty; Dere all vas Souse and Brouse, Vhen de sooper comed in, de gompany Did make demselfs to house; Dey ate das Brot and Gensy broost, De Bratwurst and Braten vine, Und vash der Abendessen down Mit four parrels of Neckarwein. Hans Breitmann gife a barty; Ve all cot troonk ash bigs. I poot mine mout' to a parrel of beer, Und emptied it oop mit a schwigs; Und den I gissed Madilda Yane, Und she shlog me on de kop, Und de gompany vighted mit daple-lecks Dill de coonshtable made oos shtop. Hans Breitmann gife a barty -- Vhere ish dot barty now? Vhere ish de lofely golden cloud Dot float on de moundain's prow? Vhere ish de himmelstrahlende stern -- De shtar of de shpirit's light? All goned afay mit de lager beer -- Afay in de ewigkeit! BREITMANN AND THE TURNERS. HANS BREITMANN shoined de Turners, Novemper in de fall, Und dey gifed a boostin' bender All in de Turner Hall. Dere coomed de whole Gesangverein Mit der Liederlich Aepfel Chor,[1] Und dey blowed on de drooms and stroomed on de fifes Till dey couldn't refife no more. Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners, Dey all set oop some shouts, Dey took'd him into deir Turner Hall, Und poots him a course of shprouts. Dey poots him on de barell-hell pars Und shtands him oop on his head, Und dey poomps de beer mit an enchine hose In his mout' dill he's 'pout half tead! Hans Breitmann shoined de Turners; Dey make shimnastig dricks; He stoot on de middle of de floor, Und put oop a fifdy-six. Und den he drows it to de roof, Und schwig off a treadful trink: De veight coom toomple back on his headt, Und py shinks! he didn't vink!