rt, and
exclaim, "Circuses!"

YAWCOB STRAUSS

BY CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS

I haf von funny leedle poy,
Vot gomes schust to mine knee;
Der queerest schap, der createst rogue,
As efer you dit see.

He runs, und schumps, und schmashes dings
In all barts off der house:
But vot off dot? he vas mine son,
Mine leedle Yawcob Strauss.

He gets der measles und der mumbs,
Und eferyding dot's oudt;
He sbills mine glass off lager bier,
Poots schnuff indo mine kraut.

He fills mine pipe mit Limburg cheese,--
Dot vas der roughest chouse:
I'd dake dot vrom no oder poy
But leedle Yawcob Strauss.

He dakes der milk-ban for a dhrum,
Und cuts mine cane in dwo,
To make der schticks to beat it mit,--
Mine cracious, dot vas drue!

I dinks mine hed vas schplit abart,
He kicks oup sooch a touse:
But nefer mind; der poys vas few
Like dot young Yawcob Strauss.

He asks me questions sooch as dese:
Who baints mine nose so red?
Who vas it cuts dot schmoodth blace oudt
Vrom der hair ubon mine hed?

Und vhere der plaze goes vrom der lamp
Vene'er der glim I douse.
How gan I all dose dings eggsblain
To dot schmall Yawcob Strauss?

I somedimes dink I schall go vild
Mit sooch a grazy poy,
Und vish vonce more I gould haf rest,
Und beaceful dimes enshoy;

But ven he vas ashleep in ped,
So guiet as a mouse,
I prays der Lord, "Dake anyding,
But leaf dot Yawcob Strauss."

SEFFY AND SALLY

BY JOHN LUTHER LONG

The place was the porch of the store, the time was about ten o'clock in
the morning of a summer day, the people were the amiable loafers--and
Old Baumgartner. The person he was discoursing about was his son
Sephenijah. I am not sure that the name was not the ripe fruit of his
father's fancy--with, perhaps, the Scriptural suggestion which is likely
to be present in the affairs of a Pennsylvania-German--whether a
communicant or not--even if he live in Maryland.

"Yas--always last; expecial at funerals and weddings. Except his
own--he's sure to be on time at his own funeral. Right out in front!
Hah? But sometimes he misses his wedding. Why, I knowed a feller--yous
all knowed him, begoshens!--that didn't git there tell another feller'd
married her--'bout more'n a year afterward. Wasn't it more'n a year,
boys? Yas--