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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Prosit deine Blume!" answered Richter, smiling and holding up his glass of beer. "You will come to a 'commerce', and see. "This is not our blessed Lichtenhainer, that we drink at Jena. One may have a pint of Lichtenhainer for less than a groschen at Jena. Aber," he added as he rose, with a laugh that showed his strong teeth, "we Americans are rich."
Deine Lena war aber nicht so huebsch, eh?" Later I learned that Fritz was the newest arrival and that since coming to this country he had been rather low in spirits in consequence of a certain flaxen-haired Lena whom he had left behind in the fatherland. An examination of the dining room and its other occupants served to keep my mind off the hateful long table.
Dibb Zane, the "sprinkling contractor," had been at work with the town water-cart since the morning stars were bright, but he might as well have watered the streets with his tears, which, indeed, when the farmers began to come in, bringing their cyclones of dust, he drew nigh unto, after a spell of profanity as futile as his cart. "Tief wie das Meer soll deine Liebe sein,"
The particularly offensive song about King Edward and England is principally sung by girls the future mothers of Germany: O England, O England, Wie gross sind Deine Lugen! Ist Dein Verbrechen noch so gross, Du schwindelst Dich vom Galgen los. O Eduard, O Eduard, du Muster aller Fursten, Nichts hattest Du von einem Rex, Du eitler Schlips und Westenfex.
She has not, like her sister May in Germany, been transformed to a verb and made a synonyme for joy, "Deine Seele maiet den trüben Herbst" but April was believed in early ages to have been the birth-time of the world.
Well, I would accept this as a message from Francis. Now to study it once more. O Eichenholz! O Eichenholz! Wie leer sind deine Blätter. Wie Achiles in dem Zelte. Wo zweie sich zanken Erfreut sich der Dritte. The message fell into three parts, each consisting of a phrase. The first phrase might certainly be a warning that Francis had failed in his mission. "O Okewood! how empty are thy leaves!"
He went to bed at ten o'clock on Christmas Eve, when the streets were surging with voices and gay steps, when rollicking piano-tunes from across the street penetrated even closed windows, and a German voice as rich as milk chocolate was caressing, "Oh Tannenbaum, oh Tannenbaum, wie grün sind deine Blätter."... Then slept for nine hours, woke with rapturous remembrance that he didn't have to go to the office, and sang "The Banks of the Saskatchewan" in his bath.
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