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the Indian's prayer.
I vould puild a pig house, have a couple of frows, If I had but a dousand a year, Peder Schpike, If I had but a dousaud a year.
But subbose you gets sick on yo it ped, Yacob Schnapps
Mit trinking too much lager-bier? Un ven you grows old, if your frows 'gin to schold,
Den vot ish your dousand a year, Yacob Schnapps, Den vot ish your dousaud a year ?
Yot, a man sich as me to get sick, Peder Schpike ?
I dinks dat vould pe butty queer: Mine life I'd insure, un from Death pe secure,
If I had but a dousand a year, Peder Schpike, If I had but a dousand a year.
Dere's a place vot ish petter as dis, Yacob Schnapps.
Yaw, der shtate von New Yarsey ish near!
Let us poth emigrate to dat peautifool shtate,
Un ve'll soon make a dousand a year—yaw, inteed, Ye vill soon make a dousaud a year!
THE INDIAN'S PRAYER.
Let me go to my home hi the far distant land, To the scenes of my childhood in innocence blest; Where the tall cedars wave, and the bright waters flow Where my fathers repose, let me go, let me go— Where my fathers repose, let me go, let me go I