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Ah! we are well cared for here, and the Piper teaches us, and we him; and we play and frolic and sometimes travel, 'und so geht's." "But what can you teach him?" asked Doris, wondering. "Ah! many things. We teach him to tune his fife to the sounds of our laughter, so that when he travels he may pipe new songs. Ah! thou foolish one, thou thoughtest him the wind.
There was nothing about the place or its occupants to remind one of America. This dim, smoky, cake-scented cafe was Germany. "Time!" said Blackie. "Here comes Rosie to take our order. You can take your choice of coffee or chocolate. That's as fancy as they get here." An expansive blond girl paused at our table smiling a broad welcome at Blackie. "Wie geht's, Roschen?" he greeted her.
Here is another instance: When the feeling and stress over the Moroccan question was at its height General von Heeringen on leaving his quarters for his usual drive in the Thiergarten was eagerly questioned by a score of officers, awaiting his exit. "Excellency! Geht's los?"
"He invented that signal himself; he's the only man in the village who carries a handkerchief. Und jetzt geht's los!" And forthwith it went 'los'; the farce quickened to drama.
He patted Louetta's hand, to indicate that he hadn't meant anything improper by squeezing it, and demanded of Frink, "Say, see if you can get old Dant' to spiel us some of his poetry. Talk up to him. Tell him, 'Buena giorna, senor, com sa va, wie geht's? Keskersaykersa a little pome, senor?"
Simon Arnheim, a red portfolio under one arm, walked into the mahogany, green-carpeted, soft-lighted establishment of an importing house on Fifth Avenue. Mrs. S.S. Schlimberg, senior member, greeted him in her third-floor office behind the fitting-rooms. "Well, well! Wie geht's, Arnheim? I thought it was gettin' time for you." Mr. Arnheim shook hands and settled himself in a chair beside the desk.
He came rushing up with one pudgy hand stretched out, and a beaming smile on his rosy Teutonic countenance. "Ach, Comrade Gudge!" cried he. "Wie geht's mit you dis morning?" "Very well, thank you," said Peter, coldly, and tried to hurry on. But Comrade Schnitzelmann held onto his hand. "So! You been seeing dot Easter barade!" said he. "Vot you tink, hey?
Children are hardly out of the cradle before they are arrested for butting into the speed limit with a smoke wagon. Even when they go courting they have to play to the gallery. Nowadays Gonsalvo H. Puffenlotz walks into the parlor to see Miss Imogene Cordelia Hoffbrew. "Wie geht's, Imogene!" says Gonsalvo.
He spoke all languages, even German, and one could see by his face that he was not a little proud when he called over the table: Mein lieber Herr Doctor! Wie geht's Ihnen? There was actually a live German doctor among this merry party. He had an overgrown light-red beard, and that Sedan smile which invariably accompanies the Germans in Paris.
Real anesthetist! Ochsner hasn't got a better one! Class, eh? . . . Now, now, Adolph, take it easy. This won't hurt you a bit. Put you all nice and asleep and it won't hurt a bit. Schweig' mal! Bald schlaft man grat wie ein Kind. So! So! Bald geht's besser!"
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