No wonder he soon became dry as a blanket,
Exposed as he was to the count's son and heir.
Dear sir, quoth the count, in reward of your valour,
To show that my gratitude is not mere talk
You shall eat a beefsteak with my cook, Mrs. Haller,
Cut from the rump with her own knife and fork.
Behold, now the count gave the Stranger a dinner,
With gunpowder-tea, which you know brings a ball,
And, thin as he was, that he might not grow thinner,
He made of the Stranger no stranger at all.