Iii

"You prattle, children. Fritz, bestir yourself! The fire needs wood, so hungry is the wind; And Elsa, bring the platters from the shelf And lay the table. You, too, Gretchen, mind, For you of late are carelessly inclined, And brittle is the blaue glocken ware. Make haste, else will your father come and find, For all his day's hard work, but churlish fare. Full sure I am no man works harder anywhere."