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La, la, liriti! La, la, larita! Hallali! Then he awoke in triumph. Was he not a yodler? He told her of his dream and strange ambition. She did not discourage him. It could be settled easily enough. Why not join the company and take a few lessons?
On the road to the Alm, of moonlight nights, toiling visitors catch glimpses of a human, almost a skeleton, dressed in rags, his head bare as his feet, about his neck a flaming crimson handkerchief. He is known to Marienbäders as "The Man Who Stayed Too Long." He never addresses passers-by; but as they lose sight of him they hear the woods resound with his elegiac howl: La la liriti! La la lirita!
This yodel seemed to him as thrilling as the "Ho yo to ho!" of Brunnhilde as she rushes over the rocky road to Valhall. La la liriti! La la lirita! Hallali! chirped Röselein, with a final flourish that positively enthralled Hugh Krayne. He applauded, beating with his stick upon the table, his face flushed by emotion. Decidedly this girl was worth the visit to Marienbad.
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