It caught a pranch ge-bent,
Und like an apple from a shling,
Afay Hans Breitmann vent.

Vent droo de air an hoondert feet
Allowin' more or lees:-
Denn, pob-pob-pob - a mile or dwo
He rollet along - I guess.
Say - hast dou seen a gannon ball
Half shpent, shtill poundin' on,
Like made of gummi-lasticum?-
So vent der Breitmann.

Dey bick him oop - dey pring him in,
No wort der Breitmann shboke.
Der doktor look - he shwear erstaunt
Dat nodings ish peen proke.
"He rollt de rocky road entlang,
He pounce o'er shtock und shtone,
You'd dink he'd knocked his outsites in,
Yet nefer preak a pone!"

All shtill Hans lay, bevilderfied;
He seemt not mind de shaps,
Nor mofed oontil der medicus
Hafe dose him vell mit schnapps.
De schmell voke oop de boetry
Of tays vhen he vas yoong,
Und he murmulte de fragmends
Of an sad romantish song: