Life — June 7, 1917 — page 24: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“LIFE- Dot’s Vat Ach Louie Says OW is var! Und der pig knuckles und sauerkraut is so high-pricelistless dot dey should he called elbows und not knuckles no more. Vell, vat did I told you? So it is! Kartoffel salad is now luxuriousne: Only by und by a leetle vile ago it vas a side-show dish, t'rown in mitout extra charge. But now look at him! In der main tent is it. Last night I stopped in Louie Schaum's beer saloon. Everybody calls him Ach Louie. You know him? Yah? Goot! “Guten abend, mein lieber Louie,” ning, Charley,” saided he. I vas startlinged. I never knowed Louie to speak mitout his Frankfort-a-Main accent before, Pooty near time ve t'ink about goin’ fishin’, hey, Louie? I see der boats is runnin’ alreatty by der fishin’-banks. Vas denkst Du, Louie?” Den I see a mad-dog look in Louie's eyes. “Can't you speak no English?” he asked. Und den for der first time I noticed it an Amerikanischer flag in der vinder vas, und der har behind vas anoder vun. Und on der vall a picture von Vilson (not dot’s all Vilson neider), und a picture von Dewey, und Lincoln, und Vashington, und—py Chiminey !— Teddy von Herausvelt!! I drink my beer, und all der time I don't speak it not vun vord alreatty. Pooty soon I vipe der beer my mustache off und sj “ How about it a lectle game of pinochle, Loui Yah? “S-s-s-s-h!” sizzled Louie, like he vas a sausage in a hot pan, “Shut up mit all dot Dutch stuff. Ve don't play no pinochle here, but only poker und goot American games. Vat do you t'ink ve are, a lot of tam Germans “Gott in Himmel, Louie, you're German, aind't i Und den Louie got all red in der face, und he talks fast like his real self, und dot Frankfort-a-Main accent it came hack from him so dot [| imaginary I could see it der old Dom, die Briicke, der Schillerplatz, und almost der Palmen- Karten. “Listen to me, Charley,” he said it. “Vat I am is dis: I'm American, U. S. A., dot's all, beginning, und ending, und all der middle trough. Here I is, und here I votes, und here I pays my taxes—here is it in America, und here is it vat I is—American! Ven der Kaiser cat him Belgium up, I vink dot’s too bad to pile onto such a nice little feller vat didn’t do noddings, But I couldn't help it, und, after all, vat T care, und I better keep out of no fight. Yah? Den dot Kaiser he hite France. Veil, France he bite my fader’s leg in 1870 off, und kill my Uncle Heiney vat alvays gave me five pfennings my birt'day on; so now Kaiser bit him back, und vat must it make no difference mit me? Und Russia—vell, vere is Russia? Und Serbia, 1 don’t never knowed him. Und der rummies in Roumania, dere only gypsies is it? To me it vas all noddings. “Die Lusitania, und der drowneded vimmen, und die poor Ieetle dead babies—Ach Gott! dot vas awful! But nobody seem to care pooty much. Und President von Vilson, he didn't never mind, und some folks says it serves em right; dey should take der train und stay off der boat. said I, “Good eve- So by und by I t'ink maybe it aind’t such a difference, any- how. “ But now it aind’t no France, und it aind't no Belgium, nor Russia, nor Serbia, nor Roumania, nor nobody else. It's us—U. S., us! Me und you, Charley, und der vife und der kinder, US! Now der Kaiser vill do it vat it is to us, und Gott knows vat all. Und soon der goose-step maybe on Broadvay comes it, und everyt'ing here vill be vat it vas like ven I got avay from it ven I left Germany. Und listen, Charley, against dot I fight. Gott knows / vill fight!’ Und I let nobody call United States come to h—l mitout I smash potatoes on his nose und stab him in der spare-ribs mit der bung-starter! “Der Kaiser he licks all der vorld maybe, und still I don’t care. Maybe I'm proud to be a Deutscher ven dey such ausgezeichnet fighters is. Aber, Charley, ven he vould us lick too, den I forget dot I am German. I remember I am only US, und I fight, by Chiminey, I fight!” Und Louie banged his fist down der bar on, und danced two beer glasses off on der floor. “T see dot Englischer, Herr Balfour, has to Vashington heen,” continued Louie. “ He is a pooty goot feller. Yah? Anyvay, he is mit U. S. A., und der Kaiser aind't. “Und Joffre! I see him. Gott, vat a vonderful face! I look at him. I can’t stop lookin’. Ven I come back to der saloon, und I see upstairs vere I have it der Kaiser's picture, und von Bissing’s, und von Hindenburg’s, I can tink only of Joffre und his face, like an engel—a friend engel, Charley. ‘Gott in Himmel,’ denke ich, ‘ vat is it der matter mit German faces? Dey are terrible! Vere is it nowadays der faces like Goethe, und Schiller, und Wagner, und—und like my sweet old mutter?’ Pooty soon I takes me down der Kaiser’s picture, und von Bissing’s, und von Hinder: burg’s, und I chucks 'em in der ashes-barrel. So it is! “Yah, Joffre und all dem fellers been by Vashington und see President Vilson. Dot's nodding. Vait, Charley, vait; dey aind’t seen it nobody yet. Vait until Jofire t.'s mit Teddy von Herausvelt. Den I bet you someting!” Und den Louie valked around in front from der bar, und lighted him a cigar at der little lighter by der cigar case. nd all he said for a long, long vile vas, “Puff, puff, puff!” By and by he said it: “I vas over by Long Island last night, Charley. I vas visitin’ Fritz Gammelcotlette’s farm, Fine feller, Fritz. (Puff, puff.) Und t’ree fine boys. (Puff, puff, puff.) Dere vas Ludvig, und Fred, und dot youngest vun—Harry, I tink it is. All der neighbors vas dere; d all a-sayin’ good-bye mit der boys. Und deir old grossmutter vas shakin’ dem by der hands, und pattin’ ’em on deir backs, und cryin’, und laughin’, und Messin’ ‘em in German. She's heen here more as forty years, but she aind’t never learned to speak it much Eng- lish yet. Der boys vas a-goin’ avay. (Puff, puff, puff.) Dey have enlisted, Charley Louie didn’t look at me for a couple of minutes. He vas lookin’ vay, vay off a ousand miles. His cigar vent out By und by he valks der floor across, und starts der Victrola a-playin’. Und vat do you t'ink der tune vas? By Chimi- ! der “ Marscillaise "! Charles Hardy Meigs. comicbooks.com