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PA German Dialect

Es Neinuhr Schtick

                                                                  
 
September 30, 2004

Ihr liewe Leit:

   Heit mache mer weider middem Holsbock seim Gedicht vum Bill seinre Vendu:

Groose Meed un gleene Meed,
   Lang un katz waar datt,
Dick un dinn, un schwatz un weiss,
   Un alle anner Satt.
Dann endlich hot der Groier gsaat,
   “Es geht alles ass er hot;
Nau duhne mer der alt Baetschler uff,
   Waer gebt mer en Gebott?”

“Fimf Cent, fer’s schtaert,” saagt en Fraa,
   (Sie hot en Mann im Graab).
“Sex,” greischt en annri, “sell’s gewiss
   Dreck wolfel wann ich’s saag.”
Der Bill hot ner en Aag verzuckt;
   Dann greischt der Groier, “Mei,
Beguck der Baetschler mol, ihr Leit,
   Der biedt yo meh fer Sei.”

Noh hot en yungi Wittfraa datt
   Em Bill sei Naas gezoppt;
En annri, die iss hinnebei
   Un hot sei Woll geroppt.
Un wie sie gsehne hen der Bill
   Hot’s freindlich aagnumme,
Sin die Gebott viel schtarriger
   Un meh hatzhafdich kumme.

Der Breis waar dreiundreissich Cent
   In ebbes wie en Schtund,
Dann saagt der Groier, “’S iss en Schand,
   Ihr gebt meh fer en Hund.”
Awwer in re Jiffy waar der Breis
   Gans uff zu neinzich gschickt,
Un darrich’s hoch Excitement hen
   Deel Meed die gichdere grickt.

Sie waare all so engschterlich
   Fer der alt Baetschlermann,
Un fer eweil war’n Riot, schier
   So schlimm ass Griek im Gang;
Die Haar verroppt un’s Gfress vergratzt,
   Es Blut’s wie Wasser geloffe;
Dann hot die Betz Fettkessel
   Neinunneinzich Cent gebodde.

“Gone,” greischt der Groier, “nemm en weck,
   Fer neinunneinzich Cent.”
Un weil die annre gfochte hen,
   Do greischt die Betz, “Aamen!”
Sie hot der Breis in Cash bezaahlt,
   Un “Halleyulyer!” gsunge,
Der Bill gegraebt un blettslich
  Uffem Buckel heemgenumme.

Macht’s gut,
Der Alt Professer
 
Dear people:

  Today we will continue with Hulsbuck’s poem about Bill’s auction:

Large girls and small girls,
   Tall and short were there.
Fat and skinny, black and white,
   And all other sorts.
Then finally the auctioneer said,
   “Everything he had is gone;
Now we’re putting up the old bachelor.
  Who’ll give me a bid?”

“Five cents, for a start,” says a woman,
   (She has a husband in the grave).
“Six,” yells another, “that’s certainly
   Dirt cheap, even if I say so.”
Bill didn’t blink an eye;
   Then the auctioneer yells, “My,
Just look at that bachelor, you people,
   You’ll bid more for pigs.”

Then a young widow there
   Pulled on Bill’s nose;
Anther, she went around the back
   And pulled on his hair.
And when they saw that Bill
   Took it friendly ,
The bids came faster
   And more vigorously.

The price was thirty-three cents
   In something like an hour,
Then the auctioneer says, “It’s a shame,
   You’ll give more for a dog.”
But in a jiffy the price was
   Sent way up to ninety,
And because of the great excitement
   Some girls got the convulsions.

They were all so anxious
   For the old bachelor-man,
And for a while there was a riot, almost
   As bad as a war happening;
They pulled their hair and scratched their faces,
   The blood ran like water;
Then Betsy Fettkessel
   Bid ninety-nine cents.

“Gone,” yells the auctioneer, “take him away,
   For ninety-nine cents.”
And while the others were fighting,
   Betsy cries “Amen!”
She paid the price in cash,
   And sang “Halleluyah!”
She grabbed Bill and promptly
   Took him home on her back.

Take care,
The Old Professor
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