A noble and generous mind
Was Jack’s; Folks knew he would not talk behind Their backs: But when some maiden fresh and young, At Jack a bit of banter flung, She soon discovered that his tongue Was sharp as any ax.
A flirt of most engaging wiles
Was Jill; On Jack she lavished all her smiles, Until Her slave (and he was not the first) Of lovesick swains became the worst, His glance a strong box might have burst, His sighs were fit to kill.
One April morning, clear and fair, When both Of staying home and idling there In sloth Were weary, Jack remarked to Jill: “Oh, what’s the sense in sitting still? Let’s mount the slope of yonder hill.” And she was nothing loth
But as she answered: “What’s the use?” The gruff Young swain replied: “Oh, there’s excuse Enough. Your doting parents water lack; We’ll fill a pail and bring it back.” (The reader will perceive that Jack Was putting up a bluff.)
Thus hand in hand the tempting hill
They scaled, And Jack proposed a kiss to Jill, And failed! One backward start, one step too bold, And down the hill the couple rolled, Resembling, if truth be told, A luggage train derailed.
With eyes ablaze with anger, she
Exclaimed: “Well, who’d have thought! You’d ought to be Ashamed! You quite forget yourself, it’s plain, So I’ll forget you too. Insane Young man, I’ll say oafweederzane.” (Her German might be blamed.)
But Jack, whose linguist’s pride was pricked, To shine, Asked: “Meine königin will nicht Be mine?” And when she answered: “Nein” in spleen, He cried: “Then in the soup tureen You’ll stay. You’re not the only queen Discarded for a nein!”
The moral’s made for maidens young
And small: If you would in a foreign tongue Enthrall, Lead off undaunted in a Swede Or Spanish speech, and you’ll succeed, But they who in a German lead No favor win at all.