His pack he humped, und den he jumped upon mine bedroom door.
Dare he sat, und noding more.
The air dew was so funny, for it schmells no more like honey,
Und den I squease mine nose hard until it vas quide sore;
Den vonce I cried mid all my mide, “I vant to vare mine pants to-night,
Und of you dink dot I vos dighd, chust chumped down off dot floor;”
Again I heard it gently say: “You’ll vare dem pants no more.”
Dis it said, und noding more.
“Profid,” said I, “ding of efil; profid sdill, if dorg or devil,
For vot you comes into mine house? I vant you here no more;