Say,--what did the Prince Bibesco, Servia's grey old hospodar, In the Castle of Gradesco, By the town of Temesvar?

Slibovitz drank Prince Bibesco, Servia's grey old hospodar, In the Castle of Gradesco, Till he couldn't see a star.

THE JOLLY BROTHER.

BY COUNT ALBERT VON SCHLIPPENBACH.

Ein h.e.l.ler und ein Batzen Die waren beide mein, Der h.e.l.ler ward zu Wa.s.ser, Der Batzen ward zu Wein.

A farthing and a sixpence, And both of them were mine; The farthing went for water, And the sixpence went for wine.

The landlord and his daughter Cry, both of them, 'Oh, woe!'

The landlord when I'm coming, And the daughter when I go.

My shoes are all in pieces, My boots are torn, d'ye see; And yonder, on the hedges, The birds are singing free.

And if there were no taverns, I'd never wish to roam; And no bung-hole in the barrel, Then I couldn't drink at home.

THE STUDENT'S DRESS-COAT.

FROM WILHELM CASPARY.

Mein Frack ist im Pfandhaus, mein Frack ist nicht hier, Du prangst stets im Ballkleid und ich nicht bei dir.

My dress-coat is spouted, my dress-coat ain't here.

While you in your ball-robes go splendid, my dear!

To parties with you I'm invited, you know; But my best coat is spouted--my boots are no go.

The deuce take My Uncle, that rascally knave!

This pledging and p.a.w.ning has made me his slave.

At the thought of his sign-post then three times I bawl: While my trousers hang lonely and dark on the wall.

Farewell to thee, dear one, so lovely and rich!

My dress-coal is spouted--confound every st.i.tch.

One would think that the devil through all my affairs-- Love, business, and fun--had been sowing his tares!

My dress-coat is spouted, my dress-coat ain't here, While you in your ball-robes go splurging, my dear!

And the luck of the devil is loose over all, While my trousers hang lonely and dark on the wall!

AHASUERUS.

THE SONG OF THE WANDERING JEW.

Ich bin der alte Ahasuer.

I am the old Ahasuer; I wander here, I wander there.

My rest is gone, My heart is sair; I find it never; Never mair.

Loud roars the storm, The mill-dams tear; I cannot perish, O Malheur!

My heart is void, My head is bare: I am the old Ahasuer.

Belloweth ox, And danceth bear; I find them never, Never mair.

I'm the old Hebrew On a tear; I order arms, My heart is sair.

I'm goaded round I know not where; I wander here, I wander there.

I'd like to sleep, But must forbear: I am the old Ahasuer.

I meet folks alway Unaware; My rest is gone, I'm in despair.

I cross all lands, The sea I dare: I travel here, I wander there.

I feel such pain, I sometimes swear; I am the old Ahasuer.

Criss-cross I ramble Anywhere: I find it never, Never mair.

Against the wall I lean my spear; I find no quiet, I declare.

My peace is lost, I'm in despair; I swing like pen~ dulum in air.

I'm hard of hearing, You're aware.

Curacoa is A fine liqueur.

I listed once En militaire.

I find no comfort Anywhere.

But what's to stop it?

Pray declare.

My peace is gone, My heart is sair; I am the old Ahasuer.

Now I know nothing, Nothing mair.

THE SONG OF THE WIDOW, CLARA BAKETHECAKES.

FROM THE PENNSYLVANIA GERMAN.

Oh, John! oh, John, was k.u.mmst du net by?

Bin ja zu habe, bin Wittfrah und frei: Weis mehr vom heiren als all die Maid'

Weiss Haus zu halta und sell forstrate.

Oh, John! oh, John! why not hasten to me?

I'm to be had; I'm a widow and free.

I know more of marriage than any young maid; I can keep house too, and that firstrate.

I have house, chairs, and table, and bed so tall, And that is far better than nothing at all; And though I once have been married before, I want to again, love--yes--all the more!

Those who live single don't know how to live, Never a cent for such life would I give; Just come and marry, oh, sweetest of men; Come to-morrow,--or now, dear--I don't care when.

But if you don't come, love, I'll go marry Ned; Thoughts of him long, love, have pa.s.sed through my head.