Dese vimens! Ach! dese vimens!
To me id is quide sad
Dat dey can be so bootiful,
Und yet can be so bad.
Dey vonce a fool haf made me
As never vas before;
Bud now I know dose vimens,
Und dey don't do dat no more.
Look! I am here a baker,
Und bread und biscuits bake,
Der dough-nuts, und der cooken,
Und all such tings I make;
Von voman to my shop come,
So bootiful und big,
Her eyes vas plue und shining,
Her hair joost like a vig.
She come again next day,
Und in my dough-nuts buying
She stole mine heart avay;
For, ach! she vas so lofely
As never yet I found—
I tink dot even both my arms
Her vaist could not go round.
Von day to me she say: "I vish
I could dose dough-nuts make;
My family is goned avay;
Come now, und ve shall make
Some dough-nuts in my kitchen,
If you vill show me how."
I go. Because I tink, perhaps,
I get her for mine vrow.
Der kitchen id vas big und clean,
Der supper vas set out.
Mit places at der table
For two, mit pie, und stout.
I show her how dough-nuts to make,
Und den ve sit to sup;
Ven comes a vistle at der gate;
Der voman she jumps up.
"Quick! quick!" she say, "here somevon comes,
Und you must herein hide."
She pushes me der pantry in,
Mit nothing else beside.
I peep der keyhole through und see
A big policeman stand;
Der voman seems him pleased to see,
Und shakes him by der hand.
Der policeman say "Hark! vat is dat?"
Und open burst der door;
Dey see me den,—all vite mit flour
Und tumbled on der floor.
Der voman scream "A burglar man!"
Und tremble, und look pale;
Der policeman den he take me up,
And march me off to gaol.