Boot vhen it risen oopwarts, Ash he cling to id, of corse, Mit de lefter hand he holtet To de pridle of his horse. Der horse valk on his hind-legs: Too schwer to rise vas he; Mein Gott! vot fix for Breitmann Of de Uhlan cavallrie! So he go for seferal stunden Petween himmel und eart pelow, Boot der teufel und die engels Couldn't make der Hans let go. Dill all at vonce an idee Coom from his loocky shtar- He led co his horse's pridle Und glimb oop indo de car. Und vot you dinks he foundet Vhen in dat air-ballon? A nople Englisch vicomte, Milord de Robinson; Und mit him vas a laity, Mit whom he'd rooned afay, Whom he indroduce to Breitmann Ash die Jungfer Salome. Und der dritte was a barson, Whom Milord, mit prudent view, Hat took als secretaire, Likevise for pallast doo. Dey should hafe bitched him ofer Vhen de gas was out, dey say; Boot de dame vould not 'low it:- She'd an arriere pensee. Sait Milord: "Afar we've wandered, We are completely brown; And I'll give a thousand shiners If you'll take me to a town Where no one will molest us Till we find our way to Lon--" Here der Breitmann ent de sentence Ash he gry out, shortly, "done." "And as for this fair lady To whom I would be bound," Sait Milord, "we'll have a wedding Before we reach the ground. To escape her father's anger We fled to live in peace, But she's relatives in London, And they have - the police." O vas not dis a voonders To make de Captain shdare?- A tausend pounds in bocket Und a veddin in de air? He gafe avay de laity, Und als sie wieder kam Zur festen Erde wieder, Ward sie Robinson Madame.[43] "O go mit me," said Breitmann, "O go in mein Quartier! Don't mind dem gommon soldiers, For I'm an officier." He guide dem troo de coontry Till dey reach de ocean strand; Now dey sit und pless Hans Breitmann, In de far-off English land. Dis ish Breitmann's last adfenture How troo Himmel air flew he: Und it's dime, oh nople reader! For a dime to part from dee. Dou may'st dake it all in earnest Or pelieve id's only fon; Boot dere's woonder dings has hoppent Fery oft in Luft-ballon. III. BREITMANN AND BOUILLI. "Tres estime ami, - Ick seyn nock nit verdorb, Vielleickt Sie denck wohl kar, das ick sey tod gestorb, Ock ne Kott loben Danck, ick leb nock kanss wohl auf. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Naturlich wie Kespenst die off die Kasse keh." - Deutsch-Franzos, Leipzig, 1736. Vot roombles down de Bergstrass? Vot a grash ish in de air! Mit a desberate gonfusion, Und a gry of wild tespair, Das sind gethrasht Franzosen,[44] Und dose who after flee Are de terror of Champagner, Die Uhlan cavallrie.