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Thomas J. Gerhart
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Jay V. Wenger
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Carolyn C. Wenger
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Thomas J. Gerhart
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Carolyn C. Wenger
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German Dialect
Es Neinuhr Schtick
September
22, 2005
Ihr liewe Leit:
Ya, ich glaab es kennt warricklich sei ass viele Schtadtleit schier
gaar nix wisse vun Esel (un ich muss graad aus saage ass ich net die
Balledischener im Sinn hab). Un es kennt aa sei ass net yeder datt draus in
PD-Land Blaat 21 vum E H. Rauch seim Pennsylvania Dutchman fer Yenner 1873 im
Sack rumdraagt.
Falls ihr liewe Leser sell Blaat net bei eich habt, kann ich eich
nau saage was uff meins schteht:
DER ESEL
En Esel iss en Greadur aardlich viel greeser ass en Gans.
En Esel hot vier Bee, zwee fer nit laafe un zwee exdraa fer mit
hinnenaus kicke. Bieseits, er hot aa zwee groose Fliggel, eens uff yeder Seit
vum Kopp. Der Esel iss en schtowwerichi Greadur un geht ebmols als hinnersich
fer ahead zu kumme.
Sie hen mol en Esel eischpannt in en horsepower Dreschmaschien,un inseit
vun drei Minnudde hot er sie all in Schticker gekickt. Un am seeme Daag hot er
sex Buschel Hawwer gfresse, un wie er faddich waar, hot er so hungrich geguckt
wie eemol.
Blieb mer yuscht weck mit denne Esel!
(Los mich mol schnell ebbes do neiblarre: sell Schtick vum Rauch
gemaaht mich an en glee Schtick ass mer im Harvey M. Miller – ya, der Salli
Holsbock – seim Busch G’schbos und Arnsht finne kann, “Kamposischen uff Geil”:
Geil sin vier-eckick, mit me Bee uff Yeder Eck. Sie fresse Hawwer
un Biderschtengel, un alsemol enwennich Hoi.
Es hot viel Sadde Geil. Loss emol sehne: datt sin Schimmelgeil, un
Fixgeil, un Geilskimmel, un Halwergaut, un Racegeil, un Geilskeschde, un –
Esel!)
In seim Gedicht “Der Verlore Esel,” saagt uns der Astor Wuchter
(1856-1922) ass Mensche aa Esel sei kenne, awwer ihr watt sehne ass er net die
Amtsleit im Sinn hot:
‘S waar mol en Mann im Marrigeland,
Der waar uff weit un breit bekannt;
Er waar’n Mann arg dief gelehrt,
Un yeders hot’n hoch ge-ehrt.
En Dutzend Emder hot er ghatt,
Dock Waar ihm aus der ganse Latt
Ken eens so lieb wie’s Schquier-amt,
Weil sell vum Keenich Sal’mon schtammt.
In sellem Amt gebt’s viel zu duh;
Wann eens sich aaschickt graad wie’n Bu
Un will net was der anner will –
Well, ‘s gebt so’n gleeni Schquier-bill.
Mer mache neegscht Woch weider.
Macht’s gut,
Der Alt Professer
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Dear people:
Yes, I believe it could really be that many city folk know almost
nothing about asses/mules (and I have to say right out that I am not
thinking about any politicians). And it could also be that not everyone
out there in PG-land carries around in his pocket page 21 of E. H. Rauch’s
Pennsylvania Dutchman for January 1873.
Just in case you dear readers don’t have that page with you, I can
now tell you what it says on mine:
THE MULE
A mule is a creature quite a bid larger than a goose.
A mule has four legs, two to walk with and two extra to kick out
the back. Besides, he has two big wings, one on each side of his head. The
mule is a thick-headed/obstinate creature and sometimes goes backwards in
order to get ahead.
They once hitched up a mule in a threshing machine run by horse
(treadmill) power, and inside of three minutes he kicked it all to pieces.
And on the same day he ate six bushel oats, and when he was finished he
looked just as hungry as before.
Just stay away from me with those mules!
(Let me quickly interrupt myself with this: that piece by Rauch
reminds me a little piece by Harvey M. Miller – yes, Solly Hulsbuck – in
his book G’shbos and Arnscht, “Composition on Horses”:
Horses are four-cornered, with a leg at each corner. They eat oats
and bitter weed/fleabane and sometimes a little hay.
There are many kinds of horses. Let’s take a look: there are
mould-colored horses, sorrels, thornapple, dock, race horses, horse
chestnuts, and --- mules!)
In his poem “The Lost Mule,” Astor Wuchter (1856-1922) tells us
that people can also be mules, but you will see that he doesn’t have
officials in mind:
There was once a man in the East/Orient,
He was renowned far and wide;
He was a man greatly educated,
And everyone honored him highly.
He had a dozen offices,
But of the whole lot
None was so dear to him as the office of squire,
Because that on was founded by King Solomon.
In that office there is much to do;
If somebody acts just like a boy
And doesn’t want what the other wants –
Well, then the result is a little squire-bill.
We’ll continue next week.
Take care,
The Old Professor
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