Maud Muller

A poem by William F. Kirk

Maude Muller, on nice summer day,
Raked in meadows sveet vith hay.

Her eyes ban sharp lak gude sharp knife;
She ban nice girl, ay bet yure life.

Before she ban dar wery long,
She start to senging little song.

The Yudge come riding down big hill
In nice red yumping ottomobill.

Maude say, "Hello, Yudge, - how ban yu?"
The Yudge say, "Maudie, how y' du?"
He say: "Skol yu tak little ride?
Ef yu skol lak to, yump inside."

So Maude and Yudge ride 'bout sax miles,
And Yudge skol bask in Maude's sveet smiles.

The Yudge say, "Skol yu be my pal?"
Den ottomobill bust all to hal.

Den Maude ban valking 'bout half vay
Back to meadows sveet vith hay.

"Ay luv yu still, dear," say the Yudge,
But Maude she only say, "O fudge!"

Of all sad vords dat men skol talk,
The saddest ban, "Valk, yu sucker, valk!"