Ihr liewe Leit:
Ich glaab's iss widder Zeit, die Yaahrbicher vun der
Pennsylvaanisch Deitsch Gesellschaft zu besuche, desmol Yaahrbuch 5, im Yaahr
1895 rausgewwe, wu mer em Ezra Grumbine (1845-1923) seim Gedicht "Der Prahl-Hans"
(B/B Brallhans) finne kann. (Der Reggeboge fer 25/1991/1 saagt es waer vum Lee
L. Grumbine, em Ezra sei yingere Bruder, awwer des iss letz.) Do iss die
aerscht Helft:
'S iss nau schunn meh ass hunnert Yaahr,
Do waar er Griek bei Baltimore-
Der Englenner halt noch immer'n Schpeit
Vun alde Revolution's Zeit.
Des Land, des waar noch schwach un glee,
Dann brummt alt England iwwer der See;
Viel Mann gehn dann noch Baltimore-
Un achtzeh hunnert zwelf waar's Yaahr.
Gedraefde Menner un Volunteers
Sin gang emit Hurraah un Cheers-
Die yunge Kalls aus Sxhtadt un Land,
Zu fechde fer ihr Vadderland.
Vun Schtumbeschteddel, vun Schtitzeschtadt,
Vun Joneses aa en braafer Latt,
Vum Feld, vum Schapp, un aussem Schtor,
Soldaade gehn noch Baltimore.
Vum Blohe Barrig, vun Myerstown,
En schpunki Paerdi, braaf un sound,
Sin gange fer des Land zu seefe,
In Uniforms mit rode Schtreefe!
Nau, in der Blohbarriger Schkwad,
En scheeni, schmaerdi, braffi Latt,
Waar eener, saagt der Parre Schantz,
Der gheesse watt "der Braller Hans!"
Mit Bix un glensent Bangonett,
Soldaade Schtratz un bolder Schritt-
Er draagt sei Bruscht wie'n Baettelgaul,
Hot lauder Schtimm un grosses Maul!
De annere saagt er's alle Daag
Wie er's de Briddische mache maag;
Sei Kapp, die setzt er uffs link Ohr,
Un schweert er geht noch Baltimore!
Wann nimmand mitgeht, geht er lee,
Sell maag en yeder Mann verschteh-
Yaa, leenich geht er wann's sei muss
Un schtarremt der Briddisch Feind zu Fuss!
So brallt un bragged er alle Daag
Bis mer es nimmi heere maag;
Zu musick vun der Peif un Drum
Do schtratzt er wie en Heehnli rum.
Nau, denkt ihr liewe Leser ass der Brallhans warricklich noch
Baltimore geht? Mer misse neegscht Woch weider mache.
Macht's gut
Der Alt Professer
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Dear people:
I believe that it is time again to visit the yearbooks of the
Pennsylvania German Society, this time yearbook 5, published in the year
1895, where one can find Ezra Grumbine's (1845-1923) poem "The Braggart."
(The Rainbow, for 25/1991/1 the quarterly of the Society, says it was be
Lee L. Grumbine, Ezra's younger brother, but that is wrong.) Here is the
first half:
It's now more than one hundred years,
There was a war in Baltimore-
The English still bear us malice
From the time of the Revolution.
This land, it was still weak and small,
The old England grumbled across the sea;
Many a man then went to Baltimore-
And 1812 was the year.
Drafted men and volunteers
Went with hurrahs and cheers-
The young fellows from the cities and countryside,
To fight for their Fatherland.
From Stumptown, from Highhatcity,
From the Joneses also a brave lot,
From the fields, shops, and from the stores,
Soldiers go to Baltimore.
From the Blue Mountain, from Myerstown,
A spunky party/bunch, brave and sound,
Went to save this country,
In uniforms with red stripes!
Now, in the Blue Mountain squad,
A nice, smart, brave lot,
Was one, Pastor Schantz tells us,
Who was called "Bragging Hans!"
With rifle and gleaming bayonet,
Soldiers's strut and bold step-
He carries his chest like a war horse,
Had a loud voice and a big mouth!
He tells the others every day
How he will give it to the British;
His cap, he sets it on his left ear,
And swears he's going to Baltimore!
If nobody goes along, he'll go alone,
Every man should understand that-
Yea, he'll go alone if he has to
And will storm the British on foot!
So he boasts and brags every day
Till one no longer wants to hear of it;
To music of the fife and drum
He struts around like a little rooster.
Now do you dear readers think that the Braggart will actually go to
Baltimore? We'll have to continue next week.
Take Care,
The Old Professor
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