File:The humour of Germany; (1909) (14591314560).jpg

Identifier: humourofgermany00mlrich (find matches)
Title: The humour of Germany;
Year: 1909 (1900s)
Authors: Müller-Casenov, Hans Brock, C. E. (Charles Edmund), 1870-1938
Subjects: German wit and humor
Publisher: London, The Walter Scott publishing co., ltd New York, C. Scribner's sons
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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, and so-^ ■> All three to Rome together go. And when they saw the city near, The Wolf said to his cousin dear: Reynard, my plan I'll name to you: —The Pope, we know, has much to do; I doubt if he can spend his time To hear our catalogues of crime. Twill spare some trouble for the Pope (And also for ourselves, I hope, As we may scape with penance less), If to each other we confess. Let each describe his greatest sin, So, without preface, I'll begin. To notice trifles I disdain; But one fact gives my conscience pain. Tis this—there dwelt beside the Rhine A man who lived by feeding swine. He had a sow who rambled wide While all her pigs with hunger cried. I punished her in such a way That never more she went astray. GERMAN HUMOUR. Her little ones, deserted now, Oft moved my pity, I'll avow; I ended all their woes one night— Now let my punishment be light! Well, said the Fox, your sin was small, And hardly can for penance call; For such a venial transgression You've made amends by this confession.
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BUT NOW THE ASS MUST BE CONFESSED. And now I'll do as you have done —Of all my sins I'll name but one: A man such noisy fowls would keep. That no one near his house could sleep; The crowings of his chanticleer Disturbed the country far and near. MASTER FOX, THE CONFESSOR. Distracted by the noise, one night I went and stopped his crowing quite. But this feat ended not the matter— The hens began to crow and chatter; And so (the deed I slightly rue) I killed them and their chickens too. Well, said the Wolf, to hush that din Was surely no alarming sin; Abstain from poultry for three days, And, if you like, amend your ways. But now the Ass must be confessed. Donkey! how far have you transgressed? Ah! said the Ass, with dismal bray, You know I have not much to say; For I have toiled from day to day. And done for master service good. In carrying water, corn, and wood. But once, in winter time, 'tis true, I did what I perhaps must rue: A countryman, to keep him warm (We had just then a snowy s

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