Cliff Klingenhagen had me in to dine With him one day; and after soup and meat, And all the other things there were to eat, Cliff took two glasses and filled one with wine And one with wormwood.
Then, without a
For me to choose at all, he took the draught Of bitterness himself, and lightly quaffed It off, and said the other one was mine. And when I asked him what the deuce he meant By doing that, he only looked at
And smiled, and said it was a way of his. And though I know the fellow,
I have spent Long time a-wondering when I shall be As happy as Cliff Klingenhagen is.
