She saw her brother Peterkin Roll something large and round, Which he beside the rivulet In playing there had found; He came to ask what he had found, That was so large and smooth and round.
Old Kaspar took it from the boy, Who stood expectant by; And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh, "'T is some poor fellow's skull," said he, "Who fell in the great victory.
"I find them in the garden, For there's many hereabout; And often, when I go to plow The plowshare turns them out! For many thousand men," said he, "Were slain in that great victory."
"Now tell us what 't was all about," Young Peterkin he cries; While little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting eyes; "Now tell us all about the war, And what they killed each other for."
"It was the English," Kaspar cried, "Who put the French to rout; But what they killed each other for I could not well make out. But everybody said," quoth he, "That 't was a famous victory.
"My father lived at Blenheim then, Yon little stream hard by; They burnt his dwelling to the ground, And he was forced to fly: So with his wife and child he fled, Nor had he where to rest his head.
"With fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide, And many a childing mother then And new-born baby died: But things like that, you know, must be At every famous victory.
"They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won; For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun: But things like that, you know, must be After a famous victory.
"Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, And our good Prince Eugene." "Why 't was a very wicked thing!" Said little Wilhelmine. "Nay--nay--my little girl," quoth he, "It was a famous victory.
"And everybody praised the Duke Who this great fight did win." "And what good came of it at last?" Quoth little Peterkin. "Why, that I cannot tell," said he, "But 't was a famous victory."
Oft has it been my lot to mark A proud, conceited, talking spark, With eyes, that hardly served at most To guard their master 'gainst a post;
Yet round the world the blade has been To see whatever could be seen, Returning from his finished tour, Grown ten times perter than before; Whatever word you chance to drop, The traveled fool your mouth will stop: "Sir, if my judgment you'll allow, I've seen--and sure I ought to know," So begs you'd pay a due submission, And acquiesce in his decision.