A Bremerhaven lad whose heart did ache, sat and dreamed of the United States. How he longed to embark and sail someday, to that new continent so many miles away. At last a seagoing vessel he did spy, should he not sail, he wondered why? So he packed his grip and sailed from the land of his birth, ever so jolly and full of mirth. Little did he dream how long he'd sail that ocean wide. Little did he know what might e'er betide. He sailed and sailed until at last, he sighted this country grand and vast. And then the wind changed from its track, and blew that tiny sailboat back. They could see their homeland once more, so near had they been blown to shore. Over again they must sail, whether or not to any avail. But this time the wind completed its work, and landed him in the state of New York. The journey had been long. Many miles he went. Sixteen weeks on the ocean had been spent, But American soil was reached at last. The future was at hand. Gone was the past. From this landing in the state of New York, he went south in search of work. In New Orleans his search was not in vain, and he found employment that was his gain. Barrels he rolled across the docks, and loaded and unloaded as ships made their stops. Mishaps he had, the one we can recall, a rope became entangled and caused him to fall. Into the water he went heels over head, but his friends soon rescued him, this he said.