Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1903-01-08

SWEARING OFF.
intoxicatingly, deliriously delightful
events yet conceived by man. There
is absolutely nothing SO transcend
entally lovely as being dragged
around in a half frozen bow-knOt
while the jingle of bells and the toot
of tin horns, mingled with wild
spasms of joy from the participants
and fantastic cusswords from the
driver pierce the bracing air and
make the winter welkin ring till the
faithful farm dog bows his bristling
back and fills the air with flying
bark. Oh, it's glorious, you bet
and you'll never forget it as long as
the resultant kinks remain in your
fragile legs. But find of late that
it doesn't take so much of that sort
of thing to do me as of yore for
after we've had about three weeks
of real, genuine, atwood winter l
begin chewing the rag for balmy
breezes and expatiating upon the
joys of life in Florida where perpet-
ual summer and open-faced alliga-
tors and orange blossoms gladden.
the heart of man. But such is Life.
The thing we have not is always the
thing we want.
In my wanderings about town the
other day I mingled with many peo-
pie and as a slight diversion for
these columns, called in the assis-
lance Of some of my friends. In
my pocket I had a little newspaper
clipping of the poem, ''Mary's Little
Limb" and handed it to some OF
my acquaintance to recite. My
old friend attorney Herman Buch-
ner requested the privilege OF ''speel-
ing" it in German and so he did. |
,, got minute exposure of it and Sc
cured a photograph of these words:
Marie hat a Lemperi CHAT;
Sein Pelz war weiss vie Schnee;
Und wO Marie nur gehen that,
That daS Lemper1 gen!
Els ging amole in dSchule nit.
TrOtz Lehrer und GegetZ;
Die Schiller ldchten d'ruber all;
Ell Je; daS war Hertz!
Jetzt muss das Viecheri aussi geh'n
Doch waretS vOr dem Thor,
Und bleibt da gle1 am Orte Steh'n
Bis Marie kOmmen war.
Die Kinder fragten; Warum dem
Liebt's Thier Marie SO sehr?
Der frOmme Lehrer Sprict und Sagt:
We'll Marie liebt das Thier!
Wishing it translated I took it to
Adam Schmittges, another OF my
newsfurnishers, and he gave it to
me thus:
Dot Mary hat got elm leedle schaaf
Nit hair ShuSt like ZONE WOOL.
Und all der blaze dat gal did vent,
Dat Schaf go like Elm fool.
Curiosity prompted me to let Yep
Sing, of laundry fame, take whack
at it and I dropped into his estab-
lishment. With some difficulty
explained the reason of my visit
and after going through a series OF
transformations, Yep ratified it Off
follows:
One gal named Moll had lamb.
Fleece all samee whitee snow.
Evlv placee Moll gal walkee.
Baa-baa hoppe long too.
At the Wright house office l met
a travelling man with a French
name and learned that he was
French. He willingly reclted me
the lines and I give them to you as
nearly as possible the way he re-
peated them:
La petite Marie had lie jeune mouton'
Ze wool WAS blanche as re snow,
And everywhere la petite Marie went
La ieune moutOn was sure TO go.
Fred Burr can initiate an Irish
man to perfection and at my request
he read it in the brogue OF the
Emerald Isle to me:
Mary had little shape,
An the wool was white entOlrly'
And whenever Mary would shtur her
The Young Shape would follow her
completely.
It is rather late to acknowledge d
Christmas present, but in this case
I was physically unable to acknowl-
edge it sooner. About three weeks
ago I inserted an item to the effect
that CASE of beer and a mile OF