De virst shot dat der Breitmann fired He pring de peaches down, For he hit de double zero mit A gold Napoleon. Und ash he raked de shiners in, He hummed a liddle doon: "I kess I tont try dat again," Said he, dis afdernoon. Boot vhen he coom to rouge et noir, A tear fell tripplin denn, Id look so moosh like goot old dimes, To come dose games again. Yet vhen he lossed a hundred francs, He sadly toorned afay, "I'd rader keep de tiger here, Dan vight him, any day." Und shtanding py de daple, He saw a French lorette Vat porrowed shpecie all around, Und lossed at efery bet. "Id's all de same mit dis or dat, Or any kind of sin, De lorette or de rolette - bot' Will make de money shpin." He trinket of Le Pouhon well, Und from La Sauveniere; He tried it ad de Barisart, Und auch de Geronstere. "Dey say dat Troot' lie in a well, So trink from all we can, Und here we'll prove dat Troot is Health," Dat's so, sayd Breitemann. So long in ruined Franchimont He sat on hollowed ground, Und dinked of Wilhelm de la Marck, Who'd raked dat coontry round. "Mein Gott! how id vas mofe mine heart To read in hishdory, Und find de scattered shinin lights Of vellers shoost like me! "Dis nople boar-pig of Ardennes, Dis shtately Wallowin lord, Vas make him vamous py de pen, Und glorious py de swordt. Und showed his hero-scholarship, Vhen he wrote to de pishop, 'Satis, Brulabo monasterium Vestrum, si non payatis.' "Dey say dat in de keller here Dere lifes a coblin briest, Dereto a teufelsjagersmann Vot guard a specie chest. O if I vonce could find de vay, Und spot dat box of checks, I voonder shoost how long 'twould pe Pefore I'd twis deir necks." Und in de Walk of Meyerbeer, Vhere plashin brooklets ring, He see vhere in de water wild De wood-birds flip deir wing. "Ash de prooklet's lost in de rifer, Und de rifer's lost in de sea, Mine soul kits lost on water 'plain,'" Says Breitemann, says he. Und ash he walked de Meyerbeer He marcked, peside de way, A rock shoost like a wild boar's head, Vraie tete du sanglier. Der Breitmann heafe a shiant sigh, Und say mit 'motion grand: Von crate idee ish uber all In dis der Schweinpig's land. He drafel troo de Val d'Ambleve, He lounge de schweet Sept Heures, He shdare indo de window-shops, Und see de painted ware.[58] He looket at de fans und dings, Denn said, "To tell de trut', Dere's painted vares more dear ash dis Oop shdairs in La Redoute." Und sittin in de Champignon, Vitch rose 'neat Lofe's schweet hand, He read in books of Marmontel, Of Jeannette et Lubin. Id's nice to see Simplicitas Rococoed oop mit vlowers, Und dink soosh virtue shdill may life In dis base vorldt of ours.