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23

'Tis some poor fellow's scull', said he,
Who fell in the great victory:

'I find them in the garden, for
There's many here about
And often when I go to plough.
The ploughshare turns them out;
For many thousand men,' said he,
'Were slain in the great victory.'

'Now tell us what 'twas all about,'
Young Peterkin he cries;
And little Wilhelmine looks up
With wonder-waiting eyes;
'Now tell us all about the war,
And what they killed each other for.'

'It was the English,' Kaspar cried,
'Who put the French to rout;
'But what they killed each other for,
I could not well make out.
But everybody said,' quoth he,
'That 'twas a famous victory.

'My father liv'd at Blenheim then,
Yon little stream hard by;
They burn'd his dwelling to the ground,
And he was forc'd to fly;
So with his wife and child he fled,
Nor had he where to rest his head.

With fire and sword the country round
Was wasted far and wide,
And many a childing mother then
And new-born infant died.
But things like that, you know, must be
At every famous victory.