Citation
The Little glass man

Material Information

Title:
The Little glass man and other stories
Series Title:
Children's library
Uniform Title:
Kalte Herz
Creator:
Hauff, Wilhelm, 1802-1827 ( Author, Primary )
Eckenstein, Lina, d. 1931 ( Author, Secondary )
Cassell Publishing Co ( Publisher )
R. & R. Clark (Firm) ( Printer )
Place of Publication:
New York
Publisher:
Cassell Publishing Company
Manufacturer:
R. & R. Clark
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
176, 7, [1] p., [2] leaves of plates : ill. ; 17 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children's stories ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1893 ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1893 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1893
Genre:
Children's stories
Publishers' catalogues ( rbgenr )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- New York -- New York
Scotland -- Edinburgh
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Title and illustrated series title pages printed in red and black.
General Note:
Translation of Das kalte Herz und andere Märchen.
General Note:
Publisher's catalogue follows text.
Funding:
Children's library (Cassell Publishing Co.)
Statement of Responsibility:
from the German of Wilhelm Hauff ; illustrated.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026805678 ( ALEPH )
ALH1658 ( NOTIS )
06284190 ( OCLC )

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| /4 ae LINE



CHILD
3 fey,

LIBRARY



THE

LITTLE GLASS MAN







Hin a eed hy ahawing: by famed D,
FAT HEZEKIEL -



THE

EET EE GLASS MAN

AND OTHER STORIES

FROM THE GERMAN

OF

WILHELM HAUFF

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK

CASSELL PUBLISHING COMPANY
104 & 106 FOURTH AVENUE

1893





CONTENTS

PAGE

How THE STORIES WERE FOUND. By

L. ECKENSTEIN

15
83

THE LITTLE GLAss Man

THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK

100

THE Story or LitTLE Muck

130

Nose, THE DWARF





HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND
_ BY L, ECKENSTEIN

JATRY QUEEN sat in her office
\ drinking afternoon tea. Fairy
Queen, thinking how she could
please children best, had turned
She had come to London, she
had taken an office up a steep flight of stairs,
and had sent out her fairies all over Europe
in search of children’s books. Off they had
gone in all directions, and so many manu-
scripts and books had been sent in or brought
back by them, that Fairy Queen published
volume after volume of the Children’s Library,
and still there remained a lot of work to be
done.

There she sat now thinking over the tales
she had published and over those she was
planning to publish, as the clock of St. Paul’s
slowly struck five. Fairy Queen poured out
a last cup of tea; she finished sorting a heap

ae B







2 STORIES FROM HAUFF

of letters which she packed away in the
drawers of her writing-table, and listened
in the direction of the room next to hers.
There were steps on the stairs coming and
going, Then there was a good deal of
banging about the room, and Fairy Queen’s
ear caught snatches of a song.

In that room were stored books, and
manuscripts, and letters and brown paper
parcels, and there by the side of the big, big
waste-paper basket of Fairy Queen’s publish-
ing firm, sat Gogul Mogul reading manu-
scripts. Gogul Mogul was a long-legged
creature, with a tiny head, who had come
out of Fairyland to help publish tales suit-
able for child readers. He was devoted to
Fairy Queen, and read through piles and
piles of manuscript with great perseverance,
though he frequently groaned, longing to be
back in Fairyland.

But he was not groaning now. As Fairy
Queen opened the door calling to him, he
was lightly dancing a double shuffle and
waving a telegram to the tune. At sight of
her he burst into a joyous laugh.

‘Her absence need not cast a shadow on
us all,’ he cried; ‘the fairy from Germany
is on her way home. She telegraphs to me
from Dover; she will be here in time for the
fairies’ meeting. And having passed the
seas and crossed the sands, she found the
story of the Little Glass Man at last.’



HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND 3

‘A good thing, a good thing,’ said Fairy
Queen, taking the telegram; ‘as it is, I
have lost all patience with her. From France,
from Ireland, from Greece, even from Russia,
numbers of tales have arrived. And from
Germany, so much nearer to us, so much
more literary, nothing comes. Just as
though there were not plenty of fairy tales
to be found there! But I have no doubt
she has wasted so much time looking for
these special stories, just because you had set
your heart on having them.’

‘Upon my word,’ Gogul Mogul said.
And he jumped over his toes, a feat he was
fond of performing, serenely smiling at the
large blot of ink which ornamented his fore-
finger.

“Of course you will meet her at the sta-
tion,’ said Fairy Queen ; ‘see her home, and
call for her again in a cab. The meeting
begins at nine; all the fairies who are in
town will be there. And mind you do not
keep us waiting as you did last month!’

Her tone was severe; but Gogul Mogul
went on smiling his sweetest smile, while he
muttered to himself—

‘ Then skilful most, when most severely judged,
But chance it not.’

A few hours later daylight had passed
away and a bright moon looked down into the
thronged thoroughfare of Holborn, putting



4 STORIES FROM HAUFF

to shame the yellow lights of the gas lamps
and the glare of the few shop windows that
were lit up by electric light. Into side courts
and up winding alleys themoon made her way,
and poured down full into a narrow passage
up which ladies’ figures, bundled in ulsters
and shawls, were hurrying in twos and threes.

Under an arched doorway they disap-
peared. The moon could not look round
the corner, but above there was a row of
arched stone windows. She looked in at
these into a long large wainscotted old hall,
and there she found those figures and knew
them again.

I doubt if you would have known them.
I should not myself but that I had been
helping downstairs in the cloak-room, taking
hats and wraps and ulsters, even one pair of
goloshes, and mixing them up for the sur-
prise of seeing what lovely creatures came
out from those dark clothes. Have you
ever seen a butterfly squeeze out of a chrysa-
lis, I wonder? Have you seen those shin-
ing creatures shake themselves free from
their dark covering, take flight, and vanish
away? But those lovely creatures whose
cloaks I helped to ticket could not vanish
away from me altogether. Like the moon,
I managed to find them again.

For I knew of a small window upstairs
from which one could overlook the old hall.
When there were smoking concerts this



HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND 5

window was open for ventilation to let out
the smoke; to-night it should be open for
me to peep in. So when the old lady in the
cloak-room said she required my help no
longer, she thought it was time for me to
go to bed; I said ‘Thank you,’ and went
upstairs and made my way along the pas-
sages to the small window, and sat close to
it and looked down into the old hall.

Oh, the colour, the movement, the loveli-
ness of it all! I once went to a pantomime
and saw the Transformation Scene with all
the fairies. It was very beautiful and a
little like what I saw now. Only there the
fairies were all made up with painted faces,
and curls which had not grown on their
heads, while here you could see at a glance
that everything was quite real. And they
were so lovely, these fairies! I made my-
self comfortable at the window, no one could
see me from below. Only the moon from
the big window opposite stared me full in
the face. ‘No matter what you think,’ I
said, nodding at her; ‘don’t you talk about
inquisitiveness. Why there isn’t a window
or a cranny but you take a peep in if you get
the chance !’

Down below, at one end of the hall, there
was a raised platform ; on this, in the largest
of the chairs, sat Fairy Queen with a crown
on her head and a long silver train. A few
other fairies, all with long trains, sat by her,



6 STORIES FROM HAUFF

and the rest moved about in the hall. In
one corner, just below where I sat, there was
a long table, on which were set out plates with
pasties and sweets and sandwiches; there
were coloured glassesalso and flagons of wine.
Near the table stood Gogul Mogul greeting
the fairies as they arrived and handing them
refreshments. He was dressed in green
tights, his hair stood up in a great mop.
Among all those ladies he was the only
gentleman; but he knew his importance,
and he looked it.

‘Oh yes, she has come,’ I heard him say
in answer to inquiries; ‘what heart could
wish for more! she is without, putting her-
self straight. Did you say raspberry tart or
cherry tart?’ he asked, turning to a fairy.
And taking up a flagon, he quoted—

‘ Here plenty's liberal horn shall pour,
Of fruits for thee a copious shower.’

Suddenly there was a stir, the door had
opened and a fairy came in dressed in the
bluest of blues. Gogul Mogul went up to
her; she came to the table and ate a sand-
wich; then he led her by the hand to the
upper end of the room, where Fairy Queen
and the other grand fairies rose to receive
her. They talked of her long absence, then
of other things. But I was not listening;
I was watching Gogul Mogul, who had come
back to the refreshment table, where, all the



HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND 7

fairies having been helped, he proceeded to
help himself. I have seen school-boys in
bun shops, and school-girls settling down to
a feast of chocolate creams ; in these I have
sometimes joined myself. But never before,
never since, did I see the like of Gogul
Mogul. Sandwich after sandwich, tart after
tart, he put into his mouth; there was no
choosing, no hesitation, no pause, till every
bit of the food off the dishes had gone.
And then—it sounds nonsense, and no one
will believe it possible who has not seen it
done—he turned up the cloth at one end of
the table, then at the other, and went on
rolling and rolling it up over plates and
dishes and glasses and flagons, till there was
nothing left but a small napkin, which he
squeezed into the breast-pocket slit of his
tight green clothes.

I looked up and straight at the moon, who
seemed to be smiling. ‘Is it a dream,’ I
thought, ‘is it a practical joke, or is it really
a meeting of the Women’s Gossip Revival
Society, as they said downstairs ?’

The Blue Fairy was now sitting on the
platform, all the other fairies too had taken
seats. Gogul Mogul, the wonderful Gogul
Mogul, who well deserved the title of Food
Destroyer to Her Majesty, sauntered up to
the platform, where he sat down by the side
of Fairy Queen.

Fairy Queen then rose and said: ‘This



8 _ STORIES FROM HAUFF

night being the Full Moon we have met as
usual to hear what the fairies have to report
about children’s books and child-readers ;
how the children have liked the stories, and
what they think of them. But as the Blue
Fairy has just arrived from Germany, where
she has been so long, I propose to call on
her. to tell us some of her adventures.’

There was a great clapping of hands at
this. Gogul Mogul stood up, bowed to the
Blue Fairy, and said: ‘A feast of reason
and a flow of soul!’ at which there was
renewed clapping of hands.

The Blue Fairy hesitated, she fingered
the gold spangles of her dress, she shook
back her curls. Then she began:

‘Germany is a wonderful country. It is
very big as you know, and very different in
places ; the parts I like best are the large
forests which extend uphill and downhill for
many many miles. We all hope to go back
to Fairyland some day, but next to going
there we could not do better than settle in
one of these German forests; with the
squirrels playing about, and the birds sing-
ing, and the little streams bubbling between
the moss-grown rocks, I really felt quite at
home there. The folk live in the queerest
of houses, and are dressed in the queerest
of clothes ; and there can be nothing funnier
than the dear little children, who come a long
distance over the hills to school, walking

?



HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND 9

barefoot, and who sit down outside the
schoolhouse and put on their stockings and
shoes before they go in, as if wearing shoes
and stockings were part of doing lessons.
Well, I went to stay in the Black Forest
first; Gogul Mogul told me it was there I
must go to hear about the Little Glass Man.
I believe he knew him as a boy when the
Little Glass Man used to visit in Fairyland.
But I travelled about on coaches painted a
bright yellow, I stayed about in old-fashioned
sunny village inns, I heard about many
wonderful things, but I could not find out
anything about the Little Glass Man. Had
he left those parts, had people forgotten
about him ?

‘One afternoon I had been in a saw-mill
watching the saw go up and down through.
the long pine-wood trunk which slowly
moved along to meet it, to the sound of the
splashing wheel outside going round and
round. Every time the saw had cut through
the length of the trunk it stopped, there was
a great rush of water outside, a little bell
was set tinkling, and then the sawyer, or the
saw-miller, as they call him over there, wound
the trunk back and set the saw so as to cut
the next plank, and then the whole thing
was again set going. It was curious watch-
ing the sawdust jerked up, and the huge
block of timber cut lengthwise into so many
planks, and the miller going in and out over



10 STORIES FROM HAUFF

the sawdust. I felt quite sorry when at last
he stopped the: little bell without setting
the saw going again, and came and stood
by me.

‘Then we talked about this and that, and
I asked him about the Little Glass Man; he
must know so many woodmen who felled the
trees and brought the timber to the mill;
had they ever met him ?

‘The miller was a big rough man with a
stubbly beard ; I don’t know if he was at all
deaf, but when he spoke it was so loud that
he must have thought me dull of hearing.

‘“Take my advice,” he said, “if you
want to know about the country go into the
town. Don’t expect us to know about Little
Glass Men, or other little men ; we don’t care
for such things. But in the town you are
sure to find all about it stored away in some
book. Take my advice, go into a town; it
is there that you find out about things in the
country.”

‘Was he right? I wondered as I walked
home that night. I could not believe it, so
I stayed on in the Black Forest till it was
time to come home, but without ever hearing
of the Little Glass Man. I was on the rail-
road again. It was early one morning
when we stopped at a station; there was no
train for two hours, so I took a walk into
the town. There was a clear, fast-flowing
river below, and in the distance again such



HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND it

‘wonderful wooded hills. 1 went into a shop
and asked for some writing-paper.

‘The gentleman who brought it out had
ori the shabbiest of coats, but on his head
there was an embroidered velvet cap, and
his slippers too were embroidered. Only
his toes were stuck inside these, and he
moved about the shop slowly so as not to
leave them behind.

‘« And what is the name of that wood
yonder ?>—those hills, I mean ?>—those wooded
heights ?—that mountain range?” I asked,
trying word after word, and at last standing
in the doorway and pointing at the hills
opposite, while he blankly stared at me.

‘ « Where can you be from that you should
not know?” he said at last.

«Tam from England,” I said rather hotly,
“from London, a small place you may have
heard of.”

‘He nodded, “Oh yes, I know. You
have not come all that way alone; surely a
lady by herself . . .” :

‘“ Oh yes I have,” I said, “and I have a
good’ mind to go up among those hills by
myself too; perhaps some one up there
might tell me what they are called.”

‘Took here,” he said, ‘if you really
mean to go, let me lend you my map. I
have got such a splendid one. And I shan’t
be using it for months, as there is no one to
mind the shop for me.”



12 STORIES FROM HAUFF

‘He brought it out of a drawer and un-
folded it, while I stared in my turn.

‘You see,” he said, ‘that is the highest
point; now be sure you don’t miss seeing
that. You see Forsthaus Diana marked;
well there is the inn, that spot close to it.
That is where all those wonderful stories
were told.”

‘«¢ What stories?” I said; “nothing about
the Little Glass Man, I suppose ?”

‘He went to the back of the shop and
fumbled about.

‘Yes, of course, about the Little Glass
Man, and about the Golden Florin,” he said ;
“even if you live in an out-of-the-way place
like London, you must have heard of them.
Here is the book; stories by Hauff. Dear
me, to think that my father met the man
more than once who stored up all these
treasures! You can take the book as well
as the map, if you like ; if you are not coming
back this way you can send them by any one
who is.”

‘There was no chair in the shop, I had
to support myself against the counter, I felt
so overcome with having found the story at
last. The gentleman went on pointing out
the best way to go, and what I must see,
and after half an hour it was all settled, my
luggage was to be sent up one way and I
was to go another.

‘“T am glad you will see the old inn



HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND 13

standing where the stories were told,” he
said, ‘and you will be quite comfortable at
the forest-house Diana. If I were you I
should tell the lady-forester at once that you
are an English girl, and no Nihilist ; that is
what she is sure to think if she sees a girl
travelling about by herself. Tell her I sent
you there, and give my love to her niece
Malchen, a wild little girl but a good one, I
feel sure, whatever they say to the contrary.”’
At this point of her narrative the Blue
Fairy stopped. There was a pause.
‘Well?’ said Gogul Mogul. ‘Go on, please
go on,’ the fairies called in the audience.
‘There is nothing more to tell,’ said the
Blue Fairy; ‘the story of the Little Glass
Man was found. I read it through the next
afternoon, sitting in the garden of the inn
where the student had originally told it.
Then I went back into the forest-house
Diana, and sat chatting in the kitchen with
the lady-forester while the apples and
potatoes for the pigs were stewing, and
Malchen sat by eating sour milk from a
great earthenware bowl. But of course that
has nothing to do with the finding of the
stories. Only it was so enjoyable up there,
it was so delightful walking with that splendid
map, and reading those stories, and making
friends with a charcoal-burner who was quite
like Peter Munk, and looking on while huge
bits of timber were felled, that I stayed on



14 STORIES FROM HAUFF

and on. Only of course there was the work
of translating the stories into English.’

Again the Blue Fairy stopped ; there was
prolonged cheering and clapping of hands.
It was Fairy Queen who spoke next :

‘All this is very interesting,’ she said,
‘and so, I feel sure, is a great deal more
which the Blue Fairy could tell us about
Germany. But she has been travelling all
day, she must be tired, we must not ask for
more to-night ; only I am sure you must all
be wanting to hear the story about this Little
Glass Man. As for myself, I. am most
anxious to hear what he was like and what
he did. As the fairy has translated the
story into English, and Gogul Mogul is sure
to have the manuscript about him, I propose
calling on him to read it to us.’

There was long and loud cheering at this
among the fairies. Gogul Mogul fumbled
first in one pocket, then in another; at last
he brought out a roll of manuscript and
began as follows :







THE LITTLE GLASS MAN

HOSE who travel through Swabia
should always remember to cast
a passing glance into the Schwarz-

as wald,! not so much for the sake
of the trees (though pines are not found
everywhere in such prodigious numbers,
nor of such a surpassing height), as for the
sake of the people, who show a marked
difference from all others in the neighbour-
hood. They are taller than ordinary men,
broad - shouldered, strong-limbed, and it
seems as if the bracing air which blows
through the pines in the morning, had
allowed them, from their youth upwards, to
breathe more freely, and had given them a
clearer eye and a firmer, though ruder,
mind than the inhabitants of the valleys
and plains. The strong contrast they form
to the people living without the limits of the

1 The Black Forest.





16 STORIES FROM HAUFF

‘‘ Wald,” consists, not merely in their bear-
ing and stature, but also in their manners
and costume. Those of the Schwarzwald
of the Baden territory dress most hand-
somely ; the men allow their beards to grow
about the chin just as nature gives it; and
their black jackets, wide trousers, which
are plaited in small folds, red stockings,
and painted hats surrounded by a broad
brim, give them a strange, but somewhat
grave and noble appearance. Their usual
occupations are the manufacturing of glass,
and the so-called Dutch clocks, which they
carry about for sale over half the globe.
Another part of the same race lives on
the other side of the Schwarzwald; but
their occupations have made them contract
manners and customs quite different. from
those of the glass manufacturers. Their
Wald supplies their trade; felling and
fashioning their pines, they float them
through the /Vagold into the Meckar, from
thence down the Rhine as far as Holland;
and near the sea the Schwarzwdlder and
their long rafts are well known. Stopping
at every town which is situated along the
river, they wait proudly for purchasers of
their beams and planks; but the strongest
and longest beams they sell at a high price to
Mynheers, who build ships of them. Their
trade has accustomed them to a rude and
roving life, their pleasure consisting in



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 17

drifting down the stream on their timber,
their sorrow in wandering back again along
the shore. ‘Hence the difference in their
costume from that of the glass manufacturers,
They wear jackets of a dark linen cloth,
braces a hand-breadth wide, displayed over
the chest, and trousers of black leather,
from the pocket of which a brass rule sticks
out as a badge of honour; but their pride
and joy are their boots, which are probably
the largest that are worn in any part of the
world, for they may be drawn two spans
above the knee, and the raftsmen may walk
about in water at three feet depth without
getting their feet wet.

It is but a short time ago that the belief
in hobgoblins of the wood prevailed among
the inhabitants, this foolish superstition
having been eradicated only in modern
times. But the singularity about these
hobgoblins who are said to haunt the
Schwarzwald, is, that they also wear the
different costumes of the people. Thus it
is affirmed of the Little Glass Man, a kind
little sprite three feet and a half high, that
he never shows himself except in a painted
little hat with a broad brim, a doublet, white
trousers, and red stockings; while Dutch
Michel, who haunts the other side of the
forest, is said to be a gigantic, broad-
shouldered fellow wearing the dress of a
raftsman ; and many who have seen him

Cc



18 STORIES FROM HAUFF

say they would not like to pay for the
calves whose hides it would require to make
one pair of his boots, affirming that, without
exaggeration, a man of the middle height
may stand in one of them with his head
only just peeping out.

The following strange adventure with
these spirits is said to have once befallen a
young Schwarzwalder:—There lived a widow
in the Schwarzwald whose name was Frau
Barbara Munk; her husband had been a
charcoal-burner, and after his death she had
by degrees prevailed upon her boy, who was
now sixteen years old, to follow his father’s
trade. Young Peter Munk, a sly fellow,
submitted to sit the whole week near the
smoking stack of wood, because he had seen
his father do the same ; or, black and sooty
and an abomination to the people as he was,
to drive to the nearest town and sell his
charcoal. Now a charcoal-burner has
much leisure for reflection, about himself
and others; and when Peter Munk was
sitting by his stack, the dark trees around
him, as well as the deep stillness of the
forest, disposed his heart to tears, and to
an unknown secret longing. Something
made him sad, and vexed him, without his
knowing exactly what it was. At length,
however, he found out the cause of his vexa-
tion,—it was his condition. ‘A_ black,
solitary charcoal-burner,’ he said to himself;



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 19

‘it is a wretched life. How much more
are the glass manufacturers, and the clock-
makers regarded ; and even the musicians,
on a Sunday evening! And when Peter
Munk appears washed, clean, and dressed
out in his father’s best jacket with the silver
buttons and bran-new red stockings— if
then, any one walking behind him, thinks
to himself, “I wonder who that smart fellow
is?” admiring, all the time, my stockings
and stately gait ;—if then, I say, he passes
me and looks round, will he not say, “Why,
it is only Peter Munk, the charcoal-burner” ??

The raftsmen also on the other side of
the wood were an object of envy to him.
When these giants of the forest came over
in their splendid clothes, wearing about
their bodies half a hundredweight of silver,
either in buckles, buttons, or chains, stand-
ing with sprawling legs and consequential
look to see the dancing, swearing in Dutch,
and smoking Cologne clay pipes a yard
long, like the most noble Mynheers, then
he pictured to himself such a raftsman as
the most perfect model of human happiness.
But when these fortunate men put their
hands into their pocket, pulled out hand-
fuls of thalers and staked a Sechsbitzner
piece upon the cast of a die, throwing their
five or ten florins to and fro, he was almost
mad and sneaked sorrowfully home to his
hut. Indeed he had seen some of these



20 STORIES FROM HAUFF

gentlemen of the timber trade, on many a
holy-day evening, lose more than his poor
old father had gained in the whole year.
There were three of these men in particular
of whom he knew not which to admire
most. The one was a tall stout man with
ruddy face, who passed for the richest man
in the neighbourhood; he was _ usually
called.‘ fat Hezekiel.’ Twice every year he
went with timber to Amsterdam, and had
the good luck to sell it so much dearer than
the others that he could return home in a
splendid carriage, while they had to walk.
The second was the tallest and leanest man
in the whole Wadd, and was usually called
‘the tall Schlurker’ ; it was his extraordinary
boldness that excited Munk’s envy, for he
contradicted people of the first importance,
‘took up more room than four stout men, no
matter how crowded the inn might be,
setting either both his elbows upon the
table, or drawing one of his long legs on
the bench; yet, notwithstanding all this,
none dared to oppose him, since he had a
prodigious quantity of money. The third
was a handsome young fellow, who being
the best dancer far around, was called ‘the
king of the dancing-room.’ Originally poor,
he had been servant to one of the timber
merchants, when all at once he became
immensely rich ; for which some accounted
by saying he had found a potful of money



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 21

under an old pine tree, while others asserted
that he had fished up in the Rhine, near
Bingen, a packet of gold coins with the
spear which these raftsmen sometimes throw
at the fish as they go along in the river,
that-packet being part of the great ‘ Niebe-
lungenhort,’ which is sunk there. However
this might be, the fact of his suddenly be-
coming rich caused him to be looked upon
as a prince by young and old.

Often did poor Peter Munk the coal-
. burner think of these three men when sitting
alone in the pine forest. All three indeed
had one great fault, which made them hated
by everybody; this was their insatiable
avarice, their heartlessness towards their
debtors and towards the poor, for the
Schwarzwilder are naturally a kind-hearted
people. However, we all know how it is in
these matters ; though they were hated for
their avarice, yet they commanded respect
on account of their money, for who but they
could throw away thalers, as if they could
shake them from the pines?

‘This will do no longer,’ said Peter one
day to himself, when he felt very melancholy,
it being the morrow after a holiday, when
everybody had been at the inn; ‘if I don’t
soon thrive I shall make away with myself;
oh that I were as much looked up to and as
rich as the stout Hezekiel, or as bold and
powerful as the tall Schlurker, or as renowned



22 STORIES FROM HAUFF

as the king of the dancing-room, and could,
like him, throw thalers instead of kreutzers to
the musicians! I wonder where the fellow
gets his money!’ Reflecting upon all the
different means by which money may be got,
he could please: himself with none, till at
length he thought of the tales of those people
who, in times of old, had become rich through
the Dutchman Michel, or the Little Glass
Man. During his father’s lifetime other
poor people often came to call, and then
their conversation was generally about rich .
persons, and the means by which they had
come by their riches; in these discourses
the Little Glass Man frequently played a
conspicuous part. Now, if Peter strained
his memory a little, he could almost recall
the short verse which one must repeat near
the Tannenbiihl in the heart of the forest,
to make the sprite appear. It began as
follows—

‘ Keeper of wealth in the forest of pine,
Hundreds of years are surely thine :
Thine is the tall pine’s dwelling place—’

But he might tax his memory as much as
he pleased, he could remember no.more of
it. He often thought of asking some aged
person what the whole verse was. However,
a certain fear of betraying his thoughts kept
him back, and moreover he concluded that
the legend of the Little Glass Man could not



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 23

be very generally known, and that but few
were acquainted with the incantation, since
there were not many rich persons in the
Wald ;—if it were generally known, why had
not his father, and other poor people, tried
their luck? At length, however, he one day
got his mother to talk about the little man,
and she told him what he knew already, as
she herself remembered only the first line of
the verse; but she added that the sprite
would show himself only to those who had
been born on a Sunday, between eleven and
two o’clock. He was, she said, quite fit for
evoking him, as he was born at twelve o’clock
at noon ; if he but knew the verse.

When Peter Munk heard this he was
almost beside himself with joy and desire to
try the adventure. It appeared to him
enough to know part of the verse, and to be
born on a Sunday, for the Little Glass Man to
show himself. Consequently when he one
day had sold his charcoal, he did not light a
new stack, but put on his father’s holiday
jacket, his new red stockings, and best hat,
took his blackthorn stick, five feet long, into
his hand, and bade farewell to his mother,
saying, ‘I must go to the magistrate in the
town, for we shall soon have to draw lots
who is to be soldier, and therefore I wish to
impress once more upon him that you are a
widow, and I am your only son.’ His
mother praised his resolution ; but he started



24 STORIES FROM HAUFF

for the Tannenbiihl. This lies on the highest
point of the Schwarzwald, and not a village
or even a hut was found, at that time, for two
leagues around, for the superstitious people
believed it was haunted; they were even
very unwilling to fell timber in that part,
though the pines were tall and excellent, for
often the axes of the wood-cutters had flown
off the handle into their feet, or the trees
falling suddenly, had knocked the men
down, and either injured or even killed them;
moreover, they could have used the finest
trees from there only for fuel, since the rafts-
men never would take a trunk from the
Tannenbiihl as part of a raft, there being a
tradition that both men and timber would
come to harm if they had a tree from that
spot on the water. Hence the trees there
grew so dense and high that it was almost
night at noon. When Peter Munk ap-
proached the place, he felt quite awe-
stricken, hearing neither voice nor footstep
except his own; no axe resounded, and
even the birds seemed to shun the darkness
amidst the pines.

Peter Munk had now reached the highest
point of the Tannenbiihl, and stood before a
pine of enormous girth, for which a Dutch
shipbuilder would have given many hundred
florins on the spot. ‘Here,’ said he, ‘the
treasure-keeper (Schatzhauser) no doubt
lives ;? and pulling off his large hat, he



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN | 25

made a low bow before the tree, cleared his
throat, and said with a trembling voice, ‘I
wish you a good evening, Mr. Glass Man.’
But recéiving no answer, and all around
remaining silent as before, he thought it
would probably be better to say the verse,
and therefore murmured it forth. On re-
peating the words he saw, to his great
astonishment, a singular and very small
figure peep forth from behind the tree. It
seemed to him as if he had beheld the Little
Glass Man, just as he was described; the
little black jacket, red stockings, hat, all
even to the pale, but fine shrewd countenance
of which the people talked so much, he
thought he had seen. But alas, as quickly
as it had peeped’ forth, as quickly it had
disappeared again. ‘Mr. Glass Man,’ cried
Peter Munk, after a short hesitation, ‘ pray
don’t make a fool of me; if you fancy that
I have not seen you, you are vastly mistaken ;
I saw you very well peeping forth from
behind the tree.’ Still no answer; only at
times he fancied he heard a low, hoarse
tittering behind the tree. At length his
impatience conquered this fear, which: had
still restrained him, and he cried, ‘ Wait, you
little rascal, I will have you yet.’ At the
same time he jumped behind the tree, but
there was no Schatzhauser, and only a pretty
little squirrel was running up the tree.

Peter Munk shook his head; he saw he



26 STORIES FROM HAUFF

had succeeded to a certain degree in the
incantation, and that he perhaps only wanted
one more rhyme to the verse to evoke the
Little Glass Man; he tried over and over
again, but could not think of anything. The
squirrel showed itself on the lowest branches
of the tree, and seemed to encourage or
perhaps to mock him. It trimmed itself, it
rolled its pretty tail, and looked at him with
its cunning eyes. At length he was almost
afraid of being alone with this animal; for
sometimes it seemed to have a man’s head
and to wear a three-cornered hat, sometimes
to be quite like another squirrel, with the
exception only of having red stockings and
black shoes on its hind feet. In short, it
was a merry little creature, but still Peter
felt an awe, fancying that all was not right.
Peter now went away with more rapid
strides than he had come. The darkness of
the forest seemed to become blacker and
blacker ; the trees stood closer to each other,
and he began to be so terrified that he ran
off in a trot, and only became more tranquil
when he heard dogs bark at a distance, and
soon after descried the smoke of a hut
through the trees. But on coming nearer
and seeing the dress of the people, he found
that having taken the contrary direction, he
had got to the raftsmen instead of the glass-
makers. The people living in the hut were
wood-cutters, consisting of an aged man with



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 27

his son, who was the owner, and some grown-
up grandchildren. They received Peter
Munk, who begged a night’s quarter, hospi-
tably enough without asking his name or
residence; they gave him cider to drink,
and in the evening a large black cock, the
best meal in the Schwarzwald, was served
up for supper.

After this meal the housewife and her
daughters took their distaffs and sat round
a large pine torch, which the boys fed with
the finest rosin; the host with his guest sat
smoking and looking at the women; while
the boys were busy carving wooden spoons
and forks. The storm was howling and
raging through the pines in the forest with-
out, and now and then very heavy blasts
were heard, and it was as if whole trees were
breaking off and crashing down. The fear-
less youths were about to run out to witness
this terrific and beautiful spectacle, but their
grandfather kept them back with a stern
look and these words: ‘I would not advise
any of you,’ cried he, ‘to go now outside the
door ; by heavens he never would return, for
Michel the Dutchman is building this night
a new raft in the forest.’

The younger of them looked at him with
astonishment, having probably heard before
of Michel, but they begged their grandpapa
to tell them some interesting story of him.
Peter Munk, who had heard but confused



28 STORIES FROM HAUFF

stories of Michel the Dutchman on the other
side of the forest, joined in this request,
asking the old man who and where’ he was.
‘He is the lord of the forest,’ was the answer ;
‘and from your not having heard this at
your age, it follows that you must be a
native of those parts just beyond the Tannen-
biihl, or perhaps still more distant. But I
will tell you all I know, and how the story
goes about him. A hundred years ago or
thereabouts, there were far and wide no
people more upright in their dealings than
the Schwarzwilder, at least so my grand-
father used to tell me. Now, since there is
so much money in the country, the people
are dishonest and bad. The young fellows
dance and riot on Sundays, and swear to
such a degree that it is horrible to hear
them; whereas formerly it was quite different,
and I have often said and now say, though
he should look in through the window, that
the Dutchman Michel is the cause of all
this depravity. A hundred years ago there
lived a very rich timber merchant who had
many servants; he carried his trade far down
the Rhine and was very prosperous, being a
pious man. One evening a person such as
he had never seen came to his door; his
dress was like that of the young fellows of
the Schwarzwald, but he was full a head
taller than any of them, and no one had
ever thought there could be such a giant.



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 29

He asked for work, and the timber merchant,
seeing he was strong, and able to carry
great weights, agreed with him about the
wages and took him into his service. He
found Michel to be a labourer such as he
had never yet had; for in felling trees he
was equal to three ordinary men, and when
six men were pulling at one end of a trunk
he would carry the other end alone. After
having been employed in felling timber for
six months, he came one day before his
master, saying, “I have now been cutting
wood long enough here, and should like to
see what becomes of my trunks; what say
you to letting me go with the rafts for once?”
To which his master replied, “I have no
objection, Michel, to your seeing a little of
the world; to be sure ] want strong men
like yourself to fell the timber, and on the
river all depends upon skill; but, neverthe-
less, be it for this time as you wish.”

‘Now the float with which Michel was to go
consisted of eight rafts, and in the last there
were some of the largest beams. But what
then? The evening before starting the tall
Michel brought eight beams to the water,
thicker and longer than had ever been seen,
and he carried every one of them as easily
upon his shoulder as if it had been a rowing-
pole, so that all were amazed. Where he
had felled them, no one knows to this day.
The heart of the timber merchant was leaping

coe



30 STORIES FROM HAUFF

with joy when he saw this, calculating what
these beams would fetch ; but Michel said,
“Well, these are for me to travel on; with
those chips I should not be able to get on
at all.” His master was going to make him
a present of a pair of boots, but throwing
them aside, Michel brought out a pair the
largest that had ever been seen, and my
grandfather assured me they weighed a
hundred pounds and were five feet long.
‘The float started; and if Michel had
before astonished the wood-cutters, he per-
fectly astonished the raftsmen ; for his raft,
instead of drifting slowly down the river as
they thought it would, by reason of the im-
mense beams, darted on like an arrow, as
soon as they came into the Neckar. If the
river took a turn, or if they came to any
part where they had a difficulty in keeping
the middle stream, or were in danger of
running aground, Michel always jumped into
the water, pushing his float either to the
right or to the left, so that he glided past
without danger. If they came to a part
where the river ran straight, Michel often
sprang to the foremost raft, and making all
put up their poles, fixed his own enormous
pole in the sand, and by one push made the
float dart along, so that it seemed as if the
land, trees, and villages were flying by them.
Thus they came in half the time they gener-.
ally took to Cologne on the Rhine, where



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 31

they formerly used to sell their timber.
Here Michel said, “‘You are but sorry mer-
chants and know nothing of your advantage.
Think you these Colognese want all the
timber from the Schwarzwald for themselves ?
I tell you no, they buy it of you for half its
value, and sell it dear to Holland. Let us
sell our small beams here, and go to Holland
with the large ones; what we get above the
ordinary price is our own profit.”

‘Thus spoke the subtle Michel, and the
others consented ; some because they liked
to go and see Holland, some for the sake of
the money. Only one man was honest, and
endeavoured to dissuade them from putting
the property of their master in jeopardy or
cheating him out of the higher price. How-
ever, they did not listen to him and forgot
his words, while Michel forgot them not.
So they went down the Rhine with the
timber, and Michel, guiding the float, soon
brought them to Rotterdam. Here they
were offered four times as much as at
Cologne, and particularly the large beams
of Michel fetched a very high sum. When
the Schwarzwalders beheld the money, they
were almost beside themselves with joy.
Michel divided the money, putting aside
one-fourth for their master, and distributing
the other three among the men. And now
they went into the public-houses with sailors
and other rabble, squandering their money



32 STORIES FROM HAUFF

in drinking and gambling ; while the honest
fellow who had dissuaded them was sold by
Michel to a slave-trader, and has never been
heard of since. From that time forward
Holland was a paradise to the fellows from
the Schwarzwald, and the Dutchman Michel
their king. For a long time the timber
merchants were ignorant of this proceeding,
and before people were aware, money, swear-
ing, corrupt manners, drunkenness and
gambling were imported from Holland.
‘When the thing became known, Michel
was nowhere to be found, but he was not
dead; for a hundred years he has been
haunting the forest, and is said to have
helped many in becoming rich at the cost of
their souls of course: more I will not say.
This much, however, is certain, that to the
present day, in boisterous nights, he finds
out the finest pines in the Tannenbiihl where
people are not to fell wood; and my father
has seén him break off one of four feet
diameter, as he would break a reed. Such
trees he gives to those who turn from the
right path and go to him; at midnight they
bring their rafts to the water and he goes to
Holland with them. If I were lord and king
in Holland, I would have him shot, for all the
ships that have but a single beam of Michel’s,
must go to the bottom. Hence it is that
we hear of so many shipwrecks ; if it were
not so, how could a beautiful, strong ship as



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 33

large as a church go down. But as often
as Michel fells a pine in the forest during a
boisterous night, one of his old ones starts
from its joints, the water enters, and the
ship is lost, men and all. So far goes the
legend of the Dutchman Michel; and true
it is that all the evil in the Schwarzwald
dates from him. Oh! he can make one
rich,’ added the old man mysteriously ; ‘ but
I would have nothing from him ; I would at
no price be in the shoes of fat Hezekiel and
the long Schlurker. The king of the
dancing-room, too, is said to have made
himself over to him.’

The storm had abated during the narra-
tive of the old man ; the girls timidly lighted
their lamps and retired, while the men put
a sackful of leaves upon the bench by the
stove as a pillow for Peter Munk, and wished
him good-night.

Never in his life had Peter such heavy
dreams as during this night; sometimes he
fancied the dark gigantic Michel was tearing
the window open and reaching in with his
monstrous long arm a purse full of gold
pieces, which jingled clearly and loudly as
he shook them ; at another time he saw the
little friendly Glass Man riding upon a huge
green bottle about the room, and thought
he heard again the same hoarse laughter as in
the Tannenbiihl ; again something hummed
into his left ear the following verse—

D



34 STORIES FROM HAUFF

‘In Holland I wot,
There's gold to be got,
Small price for a lot,
Who would have it not?’

Again he heard in his right ear the song
of the Schatzhauser in the green forest, and
a soft voice whispered to him, ‘ Stupid Coal-
Peter, stupid Peter Munk, you cannot find a
rhyme with “place,” and yet are born on a
Sunday at twelve o’clock precisely. Rhyme,
dull Peter, rhyme !’

He groaned, he wearied himself to find a
rhyme, but never having made one in his
life, his trouble in his dream was fruitless.
When he awoke the next morning with the
first dawn, his dream seemed strange to
him ; he sat down at the table with his arms
crossed, and meditated upon the whisperings
that were still ringing in his ears. He said
to himself, ‘Rhyme, stupid Peter, rhyme,’
knocking his forehead with his finger, but
no rhyme would come. While still sitting
in this mood, looking gloomily down before
him and thinking of a rhyme with ‘place,’
he heard three men passing outside and
going into the forest, one of whom was
singing —

‘I stood upon the brightest place,

I gazed upon the plain,

And then—oh then—I saw that face,
T never saw again.’



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 35

These words flashed like lightning through
Peter’s ear, and hastily starting up, he rushed
out of the house, thinking he was mistaken
in what he had heard, ran after the three
fellows and seized, suddenly and rudely, the
singer by the arm, crying at the same time,
‘Stop, friend, what was it you rhymed with
“place”? Do me the favour to tell me
what you were singing.’

‘What possesses you, fellow ?’ replied the
Schwarzwalder. ‘I may sing what I like;
let go my arm, or. :

‘No, you shall tell me what you were
singing,’ shouted Peter, almost beside him-
self, clutching him more tightly at the same
time. When the other two saw this, they
were not long in falling foul upon poor Peter
with their large fists, and belabouring him
till the pain made him release the third, and
he sank exhausted upon his knees.

‘Now you have your due,’ said they, laugh-
ing ; ‘and mark you, madcap, never again
stop people like us upon the highway.’

‘Woe is me!’ replied Peter with a sigh,
‘T shall certainly recollect it. But now that
I have had the blows, you will oblige me by
telling me plainly what he was singing.’ To
this they laughed again and mocked him;
but the one who had sung repeated the song
to him, after which they went away laughing
and singing.

““Face,”’ then said the poor belaboured





36 STORIES FROM HAUFF

Peter as he got up slowly, ‘will rhyme with
“place” ; now, Little Glass Man, I will have
another word with you.’ He went into the
hut, took his hat and long stick, bade fare--
well to the inmates, and commenced his way
back to the Tannenbiihl. Being under the
necessity of inventing a verse, he proceeded
slowly and thoughtfully on his way; at
length, when he was already within the
precincts of the Tannenbiihl, and the trees
became higher and closer, he found his verse,
and for joy cut a caper in the air. All at
once he saw coming from behind the trees
a gigantic man dressed like a raftsman, who
held in his hand a pole as large as the mast
of a ship. Peter Munk’s knees almost gave
way under him, when he saw him slowly
striding by his side, thinking he was no other
than the Dutchman Michel. Still the terrible
figure kept silence, and Peter cast a side
glance at him from time to time. He was
full a head taller than the biggest man Peter
had even seen; his face expressed neither
youth nor old age, but was full of furrows
and wrinkles ; he wore a jacket of linen, and
the enormous boots being drawn above his
leather breeches, were well known to Peter
from hearsay.

‘What are you doing in the Tannenbiihl,
Peter Munk?’ asked the wood king at
length, in a deep, roaring voice.

«. ‘Good morning, countryman,’ ‘eplied



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 37

Peter, wishing to show himself undaunted,
but trembling violently all the while.

‘Peter Munk,’ replied Michel, casting a
piercing, terrible glance at him, ‘your way
does not lie through this grove.’

‘True, it does not exactly,’ said Peter,
‘but being a hot day, I thought it would be
cooler. here.’

‘Do not lie, Peter,’ cried Michel, in a
thundering voice, ‘or I strike you to the
ground with this pole; think you I have not
seen you begging of the little one?’ he
added mildly. ‘Come, come, confess it was
a silly trick, and it is well you did not know
the verse ; for the little fellow is a skinflint,
giving but little; and he to whom he gives
is never again cheerful in his life. Peter,
you are but a poor fool and I pity you in my
soul; you, such a brisk, handsome fellow,
surely could do something better in the
world than make charcoal. While others
lavish big thalers and ducats, you can
scarcely spend a few pence; ’tis a wretched
life.’

‘You are right, it is truly a wretched life.’

‘Well, continued Michel, ‘I will not
stand upon trifles; you would not be the
first honest good fellow whom I have
assisted at a pinch. Tell me, how many
hundred thalers do you want for the
present ?? shaking the money in his huge
pocket, as he said this, so that it jingled



38 STORIES FROM HAUFF

just as Peter had heard it in his dream.
But Peter’s heart felt a kind of painful con-
vulsion at these words, and he was cold and
hot alternately ; for Michel did not look as
if he would give away money out of charity,
without asking anything in return. The
old man’s mysterious words about rich
people occurred to him, and urged by an
inexplicable anxiety and fear, he cried,
‘Much obliged to you, sir, but I will have
nothing to do with you and know you well,’
and at the same time he began to run as
fast as he could. The wood spirit, how-
ever, strode by his side with immense
steps, murmuring and threatening, ‘ You
will repent it, Peter; it is written on your
forehead and to be read in your eyes that
you will not escape me. Do not run so
fast, listen only to a single rational word;
there is my boundary already.’ But Peter,
hearing this and seeing at a little distance
before him a small ditch, hastened the more
to pass this boundary, so that Michel was
obliged at length to run faster, cursing and
threatening while pursuing him. With a
desperate leap Peter cleared the ditch, for
he saw that the wood spirit was raising his
pole to dash it upon him ; having fortunately
reached the other side, he heard the pole
shatter to pieces in the air as if against an
invisible wall, and a long piece fell down at
his feet.



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 39

He picked it up in triumph ‘to throw it
at the rude Michel; but in an instant he
felt the piece of wood move in his hand,
and, to his horror, perceived that he held
an enormous serpent, which was raising
itself up towards his face with its venomous
tongue and glistening eyes. He let go his
hold, but it had already twisted itself tight
round his arm and came still closer to his
face with its vibrating head; at this instant,
however, an immense black cock rushed
down, seized the head of the serpent with
its beak, and carried it up in the air.
Michel, who had observed all this from the
other side of the ditch, howled, cried, and
raved when he saw the serpent carried
away by one more powerful than himself.

Exhausted and trembling, Peter continued
his way; the path became steeper, the
country wilder, and soon he found himself
before the large pine. He again made a
bow to the invisible Little Glass Man, as he
had done the day before, and said—

‘ Keeper of wealth in the forest of pine,
Hundreds of years are surely thine,

Thine is the tall pine’s dwelling place,
Those born on Sunday see thy face.’

‘You have not quite hit it,’ said a delicate
fine voice near him, ‘but as it is you, Peter,
I will not be particular’ Astonished he
looked round, and lo! under a_ beautiful
pine there sat a little old man in a black



40 STORIES FROM HAUFF

jacket, red stockings, and a large hat on his
head. He had a tiny affable face and a
little beard as fine as a spider’s web; and
strange to see, he was smoking a pipe of
blue glass. Nay, Peter observed to his
astonishment, 6n coming nearer, that the
clothes, shoes, and hat of the little man
were also of coloured glass, which was as
flexible as if it were still hot, bending like
cloth to every motion of the little man.

‘You have met the lubber Michel, the
Dutchman ?’ asked the little man, laughing
strangely between each word. ‘He wished
to frighten you terribly; but I have got his
magic cudgel, which he shall never have
again.’

‘Yes, Mr. Schatzhauser,’ replied Peter,
with a profound bow, ‘I was terribly fright-
ened. But I suppose the black cock was
yourself, and I am much obliged to you for
killing the serpent. The object of my visit
to you, however, is to ask your advice; I
am in very poor circumstances, for charcoal-
burning is not a profitable trade; and being
still young I should think I might be made
something better, seeing so often as I do
how other people have thriven in a short
time ; I need only mention Hezekiel, and
the king of the dancing-room, who have
money like dirt.’

‘Peter,’ said the little man gravely,
blowing the smoke of his pipe a long way



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 41

off, ‘don’t talk to me of these men. What
good have they from being apparently
happy for a few years here, and the more
unhappy for it afterwards? you must not
despise your trade; your father and grand-
father were honest people, Peter Munk,
and they carried on the same trade. Let
me not suppose it is love of idleness that
brings you to me.’

Peter was startled at the gravity of the
little man, and blushed. ‘No, Mr. Schatz-
hauser,’ said he; ‘idleness is the root of
every vice, but you cannot blame me, if
another condition pleases me better than
my own. A charcoal-burner is, in truth, a
very mean personage in this world; the
glass manufacturer, the raftsmen, and clock-
makers, are people much more looked
upon.’

‘Pride will have a fall,’ answered the
little man of the pine wood, rather more
kindly. ‘What a singular race you are,
you men! It is but rarely that one is con-
tented with the condition in which he was
born and bred, and I would lay a wager
that if you were a glass manufacturer, you
would wish to be a timber merchant, and
if you were a timber merchant you would
take a fancy to the ranger’s place, or the
residence of the bailiff. But no matter for
that ; if you promise to work hard, I will
get you something better to do. It is my



42 STORIES FROM HAUFF

practice to grant three wishes to those born
on a Sunday, who know how to find me
out. The first two are quite free from any
condition, the third I may refuse, should it
be a foolish one. Now, therefore, Peter,
say your wishes ; but mind you wish some-
thing good and useful.’

‘Hurrah!’ shouted Peter; ‘you are a
capital glass man, and justly do people call
you the treasure-keeper, for treasures seem
to be plentiful with you. Well, then, since
I may wish what my heart desires, my first
wish is that I may be able to dance better
than the king of the dancing-room, and to
have always as much money in my pocket
as fat Hezekiel.’

‘You fool!’ replied the little man
angrily, ‘what a paltry wish is this, to be
able to dance well and to have money for
gambling. Are you not ashamed of this
silly wish, you blockish Peter? Would you
cheat yourself out of good fortune? What
good will you and your poor mother reap
from your dancing well? What use will
money be to you, which, according to your
wish, is only for the public-house, there to
be spent like that of the wretched king of
the dancing-room? And then you will have
nothing for the whole week and _ starve.
Another wish is now left free to you; but
have a care to desire something more
rational.’



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 43

Peter scratched himself behind his ears,
and said, after some hesitation, ‘Now I
wish for the finest and richest glass factory in
the Schwarzwald, with everything appertain-
ing to it, and money to carry it on.’

‘Is that all?’ asked the little man, with
a look of anxiety; ‘is there nothing else,
Peter ??

‘Why you might add a horse and chaise.’

‘Oh, you stupid Peter!’ cried the little
man, while he flung his glass pipe against
a thick pine so that it broke in a hundred
pieces. ‘Horses? a carriage? Sense, I
tell you, sense—common sense and judg-
ment you ought to have wished for, but not
a horse and chaise. Come, come, don’t be
so sad, we will do all we can to make it
turn out for the best, even as it is, for the
second wish is on the whole not altogether
foolish. A good glass factory will support
its man; but you ought to have wished for
judgment and sense in addition; a horse
and chaise would come as a matter of course.’

‘But, Mr. Schatzhauser,’ replied Peter,
‘If have another wish left, and might very
well wish for sense, if I am so much in
need of it, as you seem to think.’

‘Say no more about it. You will get
involved in many an embarrassment yet,
when you will be glad of being at liberty
to obtain your third wish. And now pro-
ceed on your way home.’ Drawing a small



44 _ STORIES FROM HAUFF

bag from his pocket, he said: ‘There are
two thousand florins; let that be enough,
and don’t come again asking for money, for,
if you do, I must hang you up to the
highest pine. That is the way I have
always acted ever since I have lived in the
forest. Three days ago old Winkfritz died,
who had a large glass factory in the Unter-
wald. Go there to-morrow morning, and
make a fair offer for it. Look well to
yourself. Be prudent and be industrious ;
I will come to see you from time to time,
and assist you with word and deed, since
you have not wished for common sense.
But I must repeat it seriously ; your first
wish was evil. Guard against frequenting
the public-house, Peter; no one who did so
ever prospered long.’ The little man, while
thus talking to him, had taken a new pipe,
of the most beautiful glass, from his pocket,
charged it with dry fir-apples, and stuck it
into his little toothless mouth. Then
drawing out a large burning-glass, he
stepped into the sun and lighted it. When
*he had done this, he kindly offered his hand
to Peter, added a few more words of
salutary advice which he might carry on
his way, puffed and blew still faster, and
finally disappeared in a cloud of smoke,
which smelled of genuine Dutch canaster,
and, slowly curling upwards, vanished
amidst the tops of the pines.



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 45

On his arrival home, Peter found his
mother in great anxiety about him, for the
good dame thought in reality her son had
been drawn among the recruits. He, how-
ever, was in great glee and full of hope, and
related to her how he had met with a good
friend in the forest, who had advanced him
money to begin another trade. Although
his mother had been living for thirty years
in a charcoal-burner’s hut, and was as much
accustomed to the sight of sooty people
as any millers wife is to the floury face of
her husband, yet, as soon as her Peter
showed her a more splendid lot, she was
vain enough to despise her former condition,
and said: ‘In truth, as the mother of a
man who possesses a glass manufactory, I
shall indeed be something different from
neighbour Kate and Betsy, and shall in
future sit more consequentially at church
among the people of quality. Her son
soon came to terms with the heir of the
glass manufactory. He kept the workmen
he found, and made them work day and night
at manufacturing glass. At first he was
pleased well enough with his new trade; he
was in the habit of walking leisurely into the
factory, striding up and down with an air
of consequence and with his hands in his
pockets, looking now in one corner, now in
another, and talking about various things at
which his workmen often used to laugh



46 STORIES FROM HAUFF

heartily. His chief delight, however, was
to see the glass blown, when he would often
set to work himself, and form the strangest
figures of the soft mass: But he soon took
a dislike to the work ; first he came only for
an hour in the day, then only every other
day, and finally only once a week, so that
his workmen did just what they liked. All
this came from his frequenting the public-
house. The Sunday after he had come
back from the Tannenbiihl he went to the
public-house, and who should be jumping
there already but the king of the dancing-
room ; fat Hezekiel also was already sitting
by a quart pot, playing at dice for crown-
pieces. Now Peter quickly put his hand
into his pocket to feel whether the Little
Glass Man had been true to his word, and
lo! his pockets were stuffed full of silver
and gold. He also felt an itching and
twitching in his legs, as if they wished to
dance and caper. When the first dance
was over, he took his place with his partner
at the top next to the king of the dancing-
room; and if the latter jumped three feet
high, Peter jumped four; if he made fan-
tastic and graceful steps, Peter twined and
twisted his legs in such a manner that all
the spectators were utterly amazed with
delight and admiration. But when it was
rumoured in the dancing-room that Peter
had bought a glass manufactory, and when



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 47

people saw that Peter, as often as he passed
the musicians, threw a six-biatzner piece to
them, there was no end of astonishment.
Some thought he had found a treasure in
the forest, others were of opinion that he
had succeeded to some fortune, but all
respected him now, and considered him a
made man, simply because he had plenty
of money. Indeed that very evening he
lost twenty florins at play, and yet his
pockets jingled and tingled as if there were
a hundred thalers in them.

When Peter saw how much respected he
was, he could no longer contain himself with
joy and pride. He threw away handfuls of
money and distributed it profusely among
the poor, knowing full well as he did how
poverty had formerly pinched him. The
feats of the king of the dancing-room were
completely eclipsed by those of the new
dancer, and Peter was surnamed the ‘em-
peror of the dancing-room.’ The most
daring gamblers did not stake so much as
he did on a Sunday, neither did they, how-
ever, lose so much; but then, the more he
lost, the more he won. This was exactly
what he had demanded from the Little Glass
Man; for he had wished he might always
have as much money in his pocket as fat
Hezekiel, and it was to this very man he
lost his money. If he lost twenty or thirty
florins at a stroke, they were immediately



48 STORIES FROM HAUFF

replaced in his own pocket, as soon as
Hezekiel pocketed them. By degrees he
carried his revelling and gambling further
than the worst fellows in the Schwarzwald,
and he was oftener called ‘gambling Peter’
than ‘emperor of the dancing-room,’ since
he now gambled almost all days of the week.
In consequence of his imprudence, his glass
manufactory gradually fell off He had
manufactured as much as ever could be
made, but he had failed to purchase, together
with the factory, the secret of disposing of it
most profitably. At length it accumulated
to such a degree that he did not know what
to do with it, and sold it for half price to
itinerant dealers in order to pay his work-
men.

Walking homewards one evening from the
public-house, he could not, in spite of the
quantity of wine he had drunk to make him-
self merry, help thinking with terror and
grief of the decline of his fortune. While
engaged in these reflections, he all at once
perceived some one walking by his side. He
looked round, and behold it was the Little
Glass Man. At the sight of him he fell into
a violent passion, protested solemnly, and
swore that the little man was the cause of
all his misfortune. ‘What am I to do now
with the horse and chaise ?’ he cried; ‘of
what use is the manufactory and all the glass
tome? Even when I was merely a wretched



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 49

charcoal-burner, I lived more happily, and
had no cares. Now I know not when the
bailiff may come to value my goods and
chattels, and seize all for debt.’

‘Indeed ?? replied the Little Glass Man,
‘indeed? I am then the cause of your
being unfortunate. Is that your gratitude
for my benefits? Who bade you wish so
foolishly? A glass manufacturer you wished
to be, and you did not know where to sell
your glass! Did I not tell you to be cautious
in what you wished for? Common sense,
Peter, and prudence, you wanted.’

‘A fig for your sense and prudence,’ cried
Peter ; ‘I am as shrewd a fellow as any one,
and will prove it to you, Littlé Glass Man,’
seizing him rudely by the collar as he spoke
these words, and crying, ‘Have I now got
you, Schatzhauser? Now I will tell you
my third wish, which you shall grant me.
'll have instantly, on the spot, two hundred
thousand hard thalers and a house. Woe is
me!’ he cried, suddenly shaking his hand,
for the little man of the wood had changed
himself into réd-hot glass, and burned in his
hand like bright fire. Nothing more was to
be seen of him.

For several days his swollen hand re-
minded him of his ingratitude and folly.
Soon, however, he silenced his conscience,
saying: ‘Should they sell my glass, manu-
factory and all, still fat Hezekiel is certain

E



50 STORIES FROM HAUFF

to me; and as long as he has money on a
Sunday, I cannot want.’

‘Very true, Peter! But, if he has none?’
And so it happened one day, and it proved
a singular example in arithmetic. For he
came one Sunday in his chaise to the inn,
and at once all the people popped their heads
out of the windows, one saying, ‘There
comes gambling Peter;’ a second saying,
‘Yes, there is the emperor of the dancing-
room, the wealthy glass manufacturer ;’? while
a third shook his head, saying, ‘It is all very
well with his wealth, but people talk a great
deal about his debts, and somebody in town
has said that the bailiff will not wait much
longer before he distrains upon him.’

At this moment the wealthy Peter saluted
the guests at the windows in a haughty and
grave manner, descended from his chaise,
and cried: ‘Good evening, mine Host of the
Sun. Is fat Hezekiel here ?’

To this question a deep voice answered
from within: ‘Only come in, Peter; your
place is kept for you; we are all here at the
cards already.’

Peter entering the parlour, immediately
put his hand into his pocket, and perceived,
by its being quite full, that Hezekiel must be
plentifully supplied. He sat down at the
table among the others and played, losing
and winning alternately; thus they kept
playing till night, when all sober people went





THE LITTLE GLASS MAN st

home. After having continued for some
time by candle-light, two of the gamblers
said: ‘Now it is enough, and we must go
home to our wives and children.’

But Peter challenged Hezekiel to remain,
The latter was unwilling, but said, after a
while, ‘Be it as you wish; I will count my
money, and then we'll play dice at five florins
the stake, for anything lower is, after all, but
child’s play.’ He drew his purse, and, after
counting, found he had a hundred florins
left ; now Peter knew how much he himself
had left, without counting first. But if
Hezekiel had won before, he now lost stake
after stake, and swore most awfully. If he
cast a pasch, Peter immediately cast one
likewise, and always two points higher. At_
length he put down the last five florins on
the table, saying, ‘Once more; and if I lose
this stake also, yet I will not leave off; you
will then lend me some of the money you
have won now, Peter; one honest fellow
helps the other.’

‘As much as you like, even if it were a
hundred florins,’ replied Peter, joyful at his
gain, and fat Hezekiel rattled the dice and
threw up fifteen; ‘Pasch!’ he exclaimed,
‘now well see!’ But Peter threw up
eighteen, and, at this moment, a hoarse,
well-known voice said behind him, ‘So! that
was the last.’

He looked round, and behind him stood



52 "STORIES FROM HAUFF

the gigantic figure of Michel the Dutchman.
’ Terrified, he dropped the money he had
already taken up. But fat Hezekiel, not
seeing Michel, demanded that Peter should
advance him ten florins for playing. As if
in a dream, Peter hastily put his hand into
his pocket, but there was no money; he
searched in the other pocket, but in vain;
he turned his coat inside out, not a farthing,
however, fell out ; and at this instant he first
recollected his first wish, viz. to have always
as much money in his pocket as fat Hezekiel.
All had now vanished like smoke.

The host and Hezekiel looked at him with
astonishment as he still searched for and
could not find his money; they would not
believe that he had no more left; but when
they at length searched his pockets, without
finding anything, they were enraged, swearing
that gambling Peter was an evil wizard, and
had wished away all the money he had won
home to his own house. Peter defended
himself stoutly, but appearances were against
him. Hezekiel protested he would tell this
shocking story to all the people in the
Schwarzwald, and the host vowed he would
the following morning early go into the town
and inform against Peter as a sorcerer, adding
that he had no doubt of his being burnt alive.
Upon this they fell furiously upon him, tore
off his coat, and kicked him out of doors. #

Not one star was twinkling in the sky to



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 53

lighten Peter’s way as he sneaked sadly
towards his home, but still he could distinctly
recognise a dark form striding by his side,
which at length said, ‘It is all over with
you, Peter Munk; all your splendour is at
an end, and this I could have foretold you
even at the time when you ‘would not listen
to me, but rather ran to the silly glass dwarf.
You now see to what you have come by dis-
regarding my advice. But try your fortune
with me this time, I have compassion on
your fate. No one ever yet repented of
applying to me, and if you don’t mind the
walk to the Tannenbiihl, I shall be there all
day to-morrow and you may speak to me, if
you will call.’ Peter now very clearly per-
ceived who was speaking to him, but feeling
a sensation of awe, he made no answer and
ran towards home.

When, on the Monday morning, he
came to his factory, he not only found his
workmen, but also other people whom no
one likes to see, viz. the bailiff and three
beadles. The bailiff wished Peter good
morning, asked him how he had slept, and
then took from his pocket a long list of
Peter’s ‘creditors, saying, with a stern look,
‘Can you pay or not? Be short, for I have
no time to lose, and you know it is full three
leagues to the prison’ Peter in despair con-
fessed he had nothing left, telling the bailiff
he might value all the premises, horses and



54 STORIES FROM HAUFF

carts. But while they went about examining
and valuing the things, Peter said to him-
self, ‘Well, it is but a short way to the
Tannenbiihl, and as the “¢//e man has not
helped me, I will now for once try the dig
man.’ He ran towards the Tannenbiihl as
fast as if the beadles were at his heels. On
passing the spot where the Little Glass Man
had first spoken to him, he felt as if an
invisible hand were stopping him, but he
tore himself away,and ran onwards till he
came to the boundary which he had well
marked. Scarcely had he, quite out of
breath, called ‘Dutch Michel, Mr. Dutch
Michel !’ when suddenly the gigantic rafts-
man with his pole stood before him.

‘Have you come then?’ said the latter,
laughing. ‘Were they going to fleece you

“and sell you to your creditors? Well, be
easy, all your sorrow comes, as I have always
said, from the Little Glass Man, the Separa-
tist and Pietist. When one gives, one ought
to give right plentifully and not like that
skinflint. But come,’ he continued, turning
towards the forest, ‘follow me to my house,
there we'll see whether we can strike a
bargain.’

‘Strike a bargain?’ thought Peter.
‘What can he want of me, what can I sell to
him? Am I perhaps to serve him, or what
is it that he can want?’ They went at first
uphill over a steep forest path, when all at



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 55

once they stopped at a dark, deep, and
almost perpendicular ravine. Michel leaped
down as easily as he would go down marble
steps ; but Peter almost fell into a fit when
he saw him below, rising up like a church
steeple, reaching him an arm as long as a
scaffolding pole, with a hand at the end as
broad as the table in the ale-house, and
calling in a voice which sounded like the
deep tones of a death bell, ‘Set yourself
boldly on my hand, hold fast by the fingers
and you will not fall off.’ Peter, trembling,
did as he was ordered, sat down upon his
hand and held himself fast by the thumb of
the giant.

They now went down a long way and
very deep, yet, to Peter’s astonishment, it
did not grow darker; on the contrary, the
daylight seemed rather to increase in the
chasm, and it was some time before Peter’s
eyes could bear it. Michel’s stature became
smaller as Peter came lower down, and he
stood now in his former size before a house
just like those of the wealthy peasants of the
Schwarzwald. The room into which Peter
was led differed in nothing but its appearance
of solitariness from those of other people.
The wooden clock, the stove of Dutch tiles,
the broad benches and utensils on the shelves -
were the same as anywhere else. Michel
told him to sit down at the large table, then
went out of the room and returned with a



56 STORIES FROM HAUFF

pitcher of wine and glasses. Having filled
these, they now began a conversation, and
Dutch Michel expatiated on the pleasures of
the world, talked of foreign countries, fine
cities and rivers, so that Peter, at length,
feeling a yearning after such sights, candidly
told Michel his wish.

‘If you had courage and strength in your
body to undertake anything, could a few
palpitations of your stupid heart make you
tremble; and the offences against honour,
or misfortunes, why should a rational fellow
care for either? Did you feel it in your
. head when they but lately called you a cheat
and a scoundrel? Or did it give youa pain
in your stomach, when the bailiff came to
eject you from your house? Tell me, where
was it you felt pain ??

‘In my heart,’ replied Peter, putting his
hand on his beating breast, for he felt as if
his heart was anxiously turning within him.

‘Excuse me for saying so, but you have
thrown away many hundred florins on vile
beggars and other rabble; what has it pro-
fited you? They have wished you blessings
and health for it; well, have you grown the
healthier for that? For half that money
you might have kept a physician. A bless-
ing, a fine blessing, forsooth, when one is
distrained upon and ejected! And what
was it that urged you put your hand into
your pocket, as often as a beggar held out



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 57

his broken hat ?—-Why your heart again,
and ever your heart, neither your eyes, nor
your tongue, nor your arms, nor your legs,
but your heart; you have, as the proverb
truly says, taken too much to heart.’

‘But how can we accustom ourselves to
act otherwise? I take, at this moment,
every possible pains to suppress it, and yet
my heart palpitates and pains me.’

‘You, indeed, poor fellow!’ cried Michel,
laughing ; ‘you can do nothing against it;
but give me this scarcely palpitating thing,
and you will see how comfortable you will
then feel.’

‘ My heart to you?’ cried Peter, horrified.
‘Why, then, I must die on the spot!
Never !’

‘Yes, if one of your surgeons would operate
upon you and take out your heart, you must
indeed die; but with me it is a different
thing; just come in here and convince
yourself.’

Rising at these words, he opened the door
of a chamber and took Peterin. On stepping
over the threshold, his heart contracted con-
vulsively, but he minded it not, for the sight
that presented itself was singular and sur-
prising. On several shelves glasses were
standing, filled with a transparent liquid,
and each contained a heart. All were
labelled with names which Peter read with
curiosity ; there was the heart of the bailiff



58 STORIES FROM HAUFF

in F., that of fat Hezekiel, that of the king
of the dancing-room, that of the ranger;
there were the hearts of six usurious corn
merchants, of eight recruiting officers, of
three money-brokers; in short, it was a
collection of the most respectable hearts
twenty leagues around.

‘Look!’ said Dutch Michel, ‘all these
have shaken off the anxieties and cares of
life; none of these hearts any longer beat
anxiously and uneasily, and their former
owners feel happy now they have got rid of
the troublesome guest.’

‘But what do they now carry in their
breasts instead ?’ asked Peter, whose head
was nearly swimming at what he be-
held.

‘ This, replied he, taking out of a small
drawer, and presenting to him—a heart of
stone.

‘Indeed !’ said Peter, who could not pre-
vent a cold shuddering coming over him.
‘A heart of marble? But, tell me, Mr.
Michel, such a heart must be very cold in
one’s breast.’

‘True, but very agreeably cool. Why
should a heart be warm? For in winter its
warmth is of little use, and good strong
Kirschwasser does more than a warm heart,
and in summer when all is hot and sultry,
you can’t think how cooling such a heart is.
And, as before said, such a heart feels neither



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 59

anxiety nor terror, neither foolish compassion
nor other grief.’

‘And that is all you can offer me?’ asked
Peter indignantly ; ‘I looked for money and
you are going to give me a stone,’

‘Well! an hundred thousand florins,
methinks, would suffice you for the present.
If you employ it properly, you may soon
make it a million,’

‘An hundred thousand!’ exclaimed the
poor coal-burner, joyfully. ‘Well, don’t
beat so vehemently in my bosom, we shall
soon have done with one another. Agreed,
Michel, give me the stone and the money,
and the alarum you may take out of its case.’

‘I always thought you were a reasonable
fellow,’ replied Michel, with a friendly smile ;
‘come, let us drink another glass, and then
I will pay you the money.’

They went back to the room and sat down
again to the wine, drinking one glass after
another till Peter fell into a profound sleep.

He was awakened by the cheerful blast
of a post-boy’s bugle, and found himself
sitting ina handsome carriage, driving along
on a wide road. On putting his head out
he saw in the airy distance the Schwarzwald
lying behind him. At first he could scarcely
believe that it was his own self sitting in the
carriage, for even his clothes were different
from those he had worn the day before; but
still he had such a distinct recollection that,



60 STORIES FROM HAUFF

giving up at length all these reflections, he
exclaimed, ‘I am Peter and no other, that
is certain.’

He was astonished that he could not, in the
-Slightest degree, feel melancholy now that
he for the first time departed from his quiet
home and the forests where he had lived so
long. He could not even press a tear out
of his eyes or utter a sigh, when he thought
of his mother, who must now feel helpless
and wretched; for he was indifferent to
everything: ‘Well,’ he said, ‘tears and
sighs, yearning for home and sadness, pro-
ceed indeed from the heart, but thanks to
Dutch Michel, mine is of stone and cold.’
Putting his hand upon his breast, he felt all
quiet and no emotion. ‘If Michel,’ said he,
beginning to search the carriage, ‘keeps his
word as well with respect.to the hundred
thousand florins as he does with the heart,
I shall be very glad.’ In his search he
found articles of dress of every description
he could wish, but no money. At length,
however, he discovered a pocket containing
many thousand thalers in gold, and bills on
large houses in all the great cities. ‘Now
I have what I want,’ thought he, squeezed
himself into the corner of the carriage and
went into the wide world.

For two years he travelled about in the
world, looked from his carriage to the right
and left up the houses, but whenever he



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 6r

alighted he looked at nothing except the
sign of the hotel, and then ran about the
town to see the finest curiosities. But
nothing gladdened him, no pictures, no
building, no music, no dancing, nor any-
thing else had any interest for, or excited
his stone heart; his eyes and ears were
blunted for everything beautiful. No en-
joyment was left him but that which he felt
in eating and drinking and sleep; and thus
he lived running through the world without
any object, eating for amusement and sleep-
ing from exnuz. From time to time he
indeed remembered that he had been more
cheerful and happier, when he was poor and
obliged to work for a livelihood. Then he
was delighted by every beautiful prospect in
the valley, by music and song, then he had
for hours looked in joyful expectation towards
the frugal meal which his mother was to
bring him to the kiln.

When thus reflecting on the past, it seemed
very strange to him that now he could not
even laugh, while formerly he had laughed
at the slightest joke. When others laughed,
he only distorted his mouth out of politeness,
but his heart did not sympathise with the
smile. He felt he was indeed exceedingly
tranquil, but yet not contented. It was not
a yearning after home, nor was it sadness,
but a void, desolate feeling, satiety and a joy-
less life that at last urged him to his home.



62 STORIES FROM HAUFF

When, after leaving Strasburg, he beheld
the dark forest of his native country; when
for the first time he again saw the robust
figures, the friendly and open countenances
of the Schwarzwalder; when the homely,
strong, and deep, but harmonious sounds
struck upon his ear, he quickly put his hand
upon his heart, for his blood flowed faster,
thinking he must rejoice and weep at the
same time ; but how could he be so foolish?
he had a heart of stone, and stones are dead
and can neither smile nor weep.

His first walk was to Michel, who received
him with his former kindness. ‘ Michel,’
said he, ‘I have now travelled and seen
everything, but all is dull stuff and I have
only found exmuz. The stone I carry about
with me in my breast, protects me against
many things; I never get angry, am never
sad, but neither do I ever feel joyful, and it
seems as if I were only half alive. Can you
not infuse a little more life into my stone
heart, or rather, give me back my former
heart? During five-and-twenty years I had
become quite accustomed to it, and though
it sometimes did a foolish thing, yet it was,
after all, a merry and cheerful heart.’

The sylvan spirit laughed grimly and sar-
castically at this, answering, ‘When once
you are dead, Peter Munk, it shall not be
withheld ; then you shall have back your
soft, susceptible heart, and may then feel



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 63

whatever comes, whether joy or sorrow.
But here, on this side of the grave, it can
never be yours again. Travelled you have
indeed, Peter, but in the way you lived, your
travelling could afford you no satisfaction.
Settle now somewhere in the world, build a
house, marry, and employ your capital; you
wanted nothing but occupation ; being idle,
you felt ev7z, and now you lay all the blame
on this innocent heart.’ Peter saw that
Michel was right with respect to idleness,
and therefore proposed to himself to become
richer and richer. Michel gave him another
hundred thousand florins, and they parted
good friends.

The report soon spread in the Schwarzwald
that Coal Peter,’ or ‘gambling Peter,’ had
returned, and was much richer than before.
It was here as it is always. When he was
a beggar he was kicked out of the inn, but
now he had come back wealthy, all shook
him by the hand when he entered on the
Sunday afternoon, praised his horse, asked
about his journey, and when he began play-
ing for hard dollars with fat Hezekiel, he
stood as high in their estimation as ever
before. He no longer followed the trade of
glass manufacturer, but the timber trade,
though that only in appearance, his chief
business being in corn and money trans-
actions, Half the people of the Schwarzwald
became by degrees his debtors, and he lent



64 STORIES FROM HAUFF

money only at Io per cent, or sold corn to
the poor, who, not being able to pay ready
money, had to purchase it at three times its
value. With the bailiff he now stood on a
footing of the closest friendship, and if any
one failed paying Mr. Peter Munk on the
very day the money was due, the bailiff with
his beadles came, valued house and property,
sold all instantly, and drove father, mother,
and child out into the forest.. This became
at first rather troublesome to Peter, for the
poor outcasts besieged his doors in troops,
the men imploring indulgence, the women
trying to move his stony heart, and the
children moaning for a piece of bread. But
getting a couple of large mastiffs, he soon
put an end to this cat’s music, as he used to
call it, for he whistled and set them on the .
beggars,. who dispersed screaming. But the
most troublesome person to him was ‘the
old woman,’ who, however, was no other
than Frau Munk, Peter’s mother. She had
been reduced to great poverty and distress,
when her house and all was sold, and her
son, on returning wealthy, had troubled
himself no more about her. So she came
sometimes before his house, supporting her-
self on a stick, as she was aged, weak, and
infirm ; but she no more ventured to go in,
as he had on one occasion driven her out ;
and she was much grieved at being obliged
to prolong her existence by the bounties of



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 65°

other people, while her own son might have
prepared for her a comfortable old age. But
his cold heart never was moved by the sight
of the pale face and well-known features, by
her imploring looks, outstretched withered
hands, and decaying frame. If ona Saturday
she knocked at the door, he put his hand
grumbling into his pocket for a six-batzen
piece, wrapped it in a bit of paper, and sent
it out bya servant. He heard her tremulous
voice when she thanked him, and wished
him a blessing in this world, he heard her
crawl away coughing from the door, but he
thought of nothing except that he had again
spent six batzen for nothing.

At length Peter took it into his head to
marry. He knew that every father in the
Schwarzwald would gladly give him his
daughter, but he was fastidious in his choice,
for he wished that everybody should praise
his good fortune and understanding in
matrimony as well as in other matters. He
therefore rode about the whole forest, look-
ing out in every direction, but none of the
pretty Schwarzwalder girls seemed beautiful
enough for him. Having finally looked out
in vain for the most beautiful at all the
dancing-rooms, he was one day told the
most beautiful and most virtuous girl in the
whole forest was the daughter of a poor
wood-cutter. He heard she lived quiet and
retired, was industrious and managed her

F



66 STORIES FROM HAUFF

father’s household well, and that she was
never seen at a dancing-room, not even at
Whitsuntide or the Kirchweihfest.1 When
Peter heard of this wonder of the Schwarz-
wald, he determined to court her, and,
having inquired where the hut was, rode
there. The father of the beautiful Eliza-
beth received the great gentleman with
astonishment, but was still more amazed
when he heard it was the rich Herr Peter
who wished to become his son-in-law.
Thinking all his cares and poverty would
now be at an end, he did not hesitate long
in giving his consent, without even asking
the beautiful Elizabeth, and the good child
was so dutiful that she became Frau Peter
Munk without opposition.

But the poor girl did not find the happi-
ness she had dreamt of. She believed she
understood the management of a house well,
but she could never give satisfaction to Herr
Peter ; she had compassion on poor people,
and, as her husband was wealthy, thought it
no sin to give a poor woman a penny, or a
dram to a poor aged man. This being one
day found out by Peter, he said to her, with
angry look and gruff voice, ‘Why do you
waste my property upon ragamuffins and
vagabonds? Have you brought anything of
your own to the house that you can give

1 A great festival in German villages, which comes
in October or November.



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 67

away? With your father’s beggar’s staff
you could not warm a soup, and you lavish
my money like a princess. Once more let
me find you out, and you shall feel my hand.’
The beautiful Elizabeth wept in her chamber
over the hard heart of her husband, and
often wished herself at home in her father’s
poor hut rather than with the rich, but
avaricious and sinful Peter. Alas! had she
known that he had a heart of marble and
could neither love her nor anybody else, she
would not, perhaps, have wondered. But as
often as a beggar now passed while she was
sitting before the door, and drawing his hat
off, asked for alms, she shut her eyes that
she might not behold his distress, and closed
her hand tight that she might not put it
involuntarily in her pocket and take out a
kreutzer. This caused a report and obtained
an ill name for Elizabeth in the whole forest,
and she was said to be even more miserly
than Peter Munk. But one day Frau Eliza-
beth was again sitting before the door spin-
ning and humming an air, for she was cheer-
ful because it was fine weather, and Peter
was taking a ride in the country, when a
little old man came along the road, carrying
a large heavy bag, and she heard him pant-
ing at a great distance. Sympathisingly she
looked at him and thought how cruel it was
to place such a heavy burden upon an aged
man.



68 STORIES FROM HAUFF

In ,the meanwhile the little man came
near, tottering and panting, and sank under
the weight of his bag almost down on the
ground just as he came opposite Frau Eliza-
beth.

‘Oh, have compassion on me, good
woman, and give me a drink of water,’ said
the little man; ‘I can go no farther, and
must perish from exhaustion.’

‘But you ought not to carry such heavy
loads at your age,’ said she.

‘No more I should if I were not obliged
to work as carrier from poverty and to pro-
long my life,” replied he. ‘Ah, such rich
ladies as you know not how painful poverty
is, and how strengthening a fresh draught
would be in this hot weather.’

On hearing this she immediately ran into
the house, took a pitcher from the shelf and
filled it with water; but she had only gone
a few paces back to take it to him, when,
seeing the little man sit on his bag miserable
and wretched, she felt pity for him, and
recollecting that her husband was from home,
she put down the pitcher, took a cup, filled
it with wine, put a loaf of rye bread on it,
and gave it to the poor old man. ‘There,’
she said, ‘a draught of wine will do you
more good than water, as you are very old ;
but do not drink so hastily, and eat some
bread with it.’

The little man looked at her in astonish-



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 69

ment till the big tears came into his eyes ;
he drank and said, ‘I have grown old, but
have seen few people who were so compas-
sionate and knew how to spend their gifts.so
handsomely and cordially as you do, Frau
Elizabeth. But you will be blessed for it on
earth; such a heart will not remain un-
requited.,’

‘No, and she shall have her reward on
the spot,’ cried a terrible voice, and looking
round they found it was Herr Peter, with a
face as red as scarlet. ‘Even my choicest
wine you waste upon beggars, and give my
own cup to the lips of vagabonds? ‘There,
take your reward.’ His wife fell prostrate
before him and begged his forgiveness, but
the heart of stone knew no pity, and flourish-
ing the whip he held in his hand, he struck
her with the ebony handle on her beautiful
forehead with such vehemence that she sank
lifeless into the arms of the old man. When
he saw what he had done it was almost as
if he repented of the deed immediately ; he
stooped to see whether there was yet life
in her, but the little man said in a well-
known voice, ‘Spare your trouble, Peter ;
she was the most beautiful and lovely
flower in the Schwarzwald, but you have
crushed it and never again will see it
bloom,’

Now the blood fled from Peter’s cheek
and he said, ‘It is you, then, Mr. Schatz-



70 STORIES FROM HAUIFF

hauser ? well, what is done is done then, and
I suppose this was to happen. But I trust
you will not inform against me.’

‘Wretch,’ replied the Little Glass Man,
‘what would it profit me if I brought your
mortal part to the gallows? It is not
earthly tribunals you have to fear, but
another and more severe one; for you have
sold your soul to the evil one’

‘And if I have sold my heart,’ cried Peter,
‘it is no one’s fault but yours and your
deceitful treasures’; your malicious spirit
brought me to ruin; you forced me to seek
help from another, and upon you lies the
whole responsibility. He had scarcely
uttered these words when the little man grew
enormously tall and broad, his eyes it is
said became as large as soup plates, and his
mouth like a heated furnace vomiting flames.
Peter fell upon his knees, and his stone heart
did not protect his limbs from trembling like
an aspen leaf. The sylvan spirit seized him,
as if with vultures’ claws, by the nape of the
neck, whirled him round as the storm whirls
the dry leaves, and dashed him to the ground
so that his ribs cracked within him. ‘You
worm of dust,’ he cried, in a voice roaring
like thunder, ‘I could crush you if I wished,
for you have trespassed against the lord of
the forest; but for the sake of this dead
woman that fed and refreshed me, I give you
a week’s respite, If you do not repent I



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 71

shall return and crush your bones, and you
will go hence in your sins.’

It was already evening when some men
passing by saw the wealthy Peter Munk
lying on the ground. They turned him over
and over to see whether there was still life
in him, but for a long time looked in vain.
At length one of them went into the house,
fetched some water and sprinkled some on
his face. Peter fetched a deep sigh and
opened his eyes, looked for a long time
around, and asked for his wife Elizabeth, but
no one had seen her. He thanked the men
for their assistance, crawled into his house,
searched everywhere, but in vain, and found
what he imagined to be a dream a sad
reality. As he was now quite alone strange
thoughts came into his mind; he did not
indeed fear anything, for his heart was quite
cold ; but when he thought of the death of
his wife his own forcibly came to his mind,
and he reflected how laden he should go
hence—heavily laden with the tears of the
poor; with thousands of the curses of those
who could not soften his heart; with the
lamentations of the wretched on whom he
had set his dogs; with the silent despair of
his mother; with the blood of the beautiful
and good Elizabeth; and yet he could not
even so much as give an account of her to
her poor old father, should he come and ask,
‘Where is my daughter, your wife?? How



72 STORIES FROM HAUFF

then could he give an account to Him—to
Him to whom belong all woods, all lakes, all
mountains, and the life of men ?

This tormented him in his dreams at night,
and he was awoke every moment by a sweet
voice crying to him, ‘Peter, get a warmer
heart!’ And when he was awoke he quickly
closed his eyes again, for the voice uttering
this warning to him could be none other but
that of his Elizabeth. The following day he
went into the inn to divert his thoughts, and
there met his friend, fat Hezekiel. He sat
down by him and they commenced talking
on various topics, of the fine weather, of war,
of taxes, and lastly, also of death, and how
such and such a person had died suddenly.
Now Peter asked him what he thought
about death, and how it would be after
death, Hezekiel replied, ‘That the body
was buried, but that the soul went either up
to heaven or down to hell.’

‘Then the heart also is buried?’ asked
Peter, anxiously.

‘To be sure that also is buried.’

‘But supposing one has no longer a heart ?’
continued Peter.

Hezekiel gave him a terrible look at these
words. ‘What do you mean by that? Do
you wish to rally me? Think you I have
no heart ?’

‘Oh, heart enough, as firm as stone,’
replied Peter.



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 73

Hezekiel looked in astonishment at him,
glancing round at the same time to see
whether they were overheard, and then said,
‘Whence do you know that? Or does your
own perhaps no longer beat within your
breast ?’

‘It beats no longer, at least, not in my
breast,’ replied Peter Munk. ‘But tell me,
as you know what I mean, how will it be
with our hearts ?’

‘Why does that concern you, my
good fellow ?? answered Hezekiel, laughing.
‘Why, you have plenty here upon earth,
and that is sufficient. Indeed, the comfort
of our cold hearts is that no fear at such
thoughts befalls us.’

‘Very true, but still one cannot help
thinking of it, and though I know no fear
now, still I well remember how I was terri-
fied at hell when yet an innocent little boy.’

‘Well, it will not exactly go well with us,’
said Hezekiel ; ‘I once asked a schoolmaster
about it, who told me that the hearts are
weighed after death to ascertain the weight
of their sins. The light ones rise, the heavy
sink, and methinks our stone hearts will
weigh heavy enough.’

‘Alas, true, replied Peter; ‘I often feel
uncomfortable that my heart is so devoid of
sympathy, and so indifferent when I think
of such things.’ So ended their conversation.

But the following night Peter again heard



74 STORIES FROM HAUFF

the well-known voice whispering into his ear
five or six times, ‘Peter, get a warmer heart!’
He felt no repentance at having killed his
wife, but when he told the servants that she
had gone ona journey, he always thought
within himself, where is she gone to? Six
days had thus passed away, and he still
heard the voice at night, and still thought of
the sylvan spirit and his terrible menace ;
but on the seventh morning he jumped up
from his couch and cried, ‘ Well, then, I will
see whether I can get a warmer heart, for
the cold stone in my breast makes my life
only tedious and desolate.’ He quickly put
on his best dress, mounted his horse, and
rode towards the Tannenbiihl.

Having arrived at that part where the
trees stand thickest, he dismounted, and
went with a quick pace towards the summit
of the hill, and as he stood before the thick
pine he repeated the following verse :

‘ Keeper of wealth in the forest of pine,
Hundreds of years are surely thine :
Thine is the tall pine’s dwelling-place—
Those born on Sunday see thy face.’

The Little Glass Man appeared, not
looking friendly and kindly as formerly, but
gloomy and sad; he wore a little coat of
black glass, and a long glass crape hung
floating from his hat, and Peter well knew
for whom he mourned.



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 75

‘What do you want with me, Peter Munk?’
asked he with a stern voice.

‘I have one more wish, Mr. Schatzhauser,’
replied Peter, with his eyes cast down.

‘Can hearts of stone still wish?’ said the
former. ‘You have all your corrupt mind
can need, and I could scarcely fulfil your
wish.’

‘But you have promised to grant me
three wishes, and one I have still left.’

‘I can refuse it if it is foolish,’ continued
the spirit ; ‘but come, let me hear what you
wish.’

‘Well, take the dead stone out of me, and
give me a living heart,’ said Peter.

‘ Have I made the bargain about the heart
with you?’ asked the Little Glass Man.
‘Am I the Dutch Michel, who gives wealth
and cold hearts? It is of him you must
seek to regain your heart.’

‘Alas! he will never give it back,’ said
Peter.

‘Bad as you are, yet I feel pity for you,’
continued the little man, after some con-
sideration ; ‘and as your wish is not foolish,
I cannot at least refuse my help. Hear
then. You can never recover your heart by
force, only by stratagem, but probably you
will find it without difficulty; for Michel will
ever be stupid Michel, although he fancies
himself very shrewd. Go straightway to
him, and do as I tell you’ He now in-



76 STORIES FROM HAUFF

structed Peter fully, and gave him a small
cross of pure glass, saying, ‘He cannot
touch your life and will let you go when you
hold this before him and repeat a prayer.
When you have obtained your wish return
to me.’

Peter took the cross, impressed all the
words on his memory, and started on his
way to the Dutchman Michel’s residence ;
there he called his name three times and
immediately the giant stood before him.

‘You have slain your wife?’ he asked,
with a grim laugh. ‘I should have done
the same; she wasted your property on
beggars ; but you will be obliged to leave
the country for some time; and I suppose
you want money and have come to get it ?’

‘You have hit it,’ replied Peter; ‘and
pray let it be a large sum, for it is a long
way to America.’

Michel leading the way, they went into
his cottage; there he opened a chest con-
taining much money and took out whole
rolls of gold. While he was counting it on
the table Peter said, ‘You're a wag, Michel.
You have told me a fib, saying that I had a
stone in my breast, and that you had my
heart.’

‘And is it not so then?’ asked Michel,
astonished. ‘Do you feel your heart? Is
it not cold as ice? Have you any fear or
sorrow? Do you repent of anything ??



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 77

‘You have only made my heart to cease
beating, but I still have it in my breast, and
so has Hezekiel, who told me you had
deceived us both. You are not the man
who, unperceived and without danger, could
tear the heart from the breast; it would
require witchcraft on your part.’

‘But I assure you,’ cried Michel angrily,
‘you and Hezekiel and all the rich people,
who have sold themselves to me, have hearts
as cold as yours, and their real hearts I have
here in my chamber.’

‘Ah! how glibly you can tell lies,’ said
Peter, laughing; ‘you must tell that to
another to be believed; think you I have not
seen such tricks by dozens in my journeys?
Your hearts in the chamber are made of wax;
you're a rich fellow I grant, but you are no

-magician!

Now the giant was enraged and burst open
the chamber door, saying, ‘Come in and
read all the labels, and look yonder is Peter
Munk’s heart; do you see how it writhes ?
Can that too be of wax?’

‘For all that, it is of wax,’ replied Peter.
‘A genuine heart does not writhe like that.
I have mine still in my breast. No! you
are no magician.’

‘But I will prove it to you,’ cried the
former angrily. ‘You shall feel that it is
your heart. He took it, opened Peter’s
waistcoat, took the stone from his breast, and



78 STORIES FROM HAUFF

held it up. Then taking the heart, he
breathed on it, and set it carefully in its
proper place, and immediately Peter felt how
it beat, and could rejoice again. ‘How do
you feel now ?’ asked Michel, smiling.

‘True enough, you were right,’ replied
Peter, taking carefully the little cross from
his pocket. ‘I should never have believed
such things could be done.’

‘You see I know something of witchcraft,
doI not? But, come, I will now replace the
stone again,’

‘Gently, Herr Michel,’ cried Peter, step-
ping backwards, and holding up the cross,
‘mice are caught with bacon, and this time
you have been deceived,’ and immediately
he began to repeat the prayers that came
into his mind,

Now Michel became less and less, fell to
the ground, and writhed like a worm, groan-
ing and moaning, and all the hearts round
began to beat, and became convulsed, so
hat it sounded like a clock-maker’s workshop.

Peter was terrified, his mind was quite
disturbed ; he ran from the house, and,
urged by the anguish of the moment, climbed
up a steep rock, for he heard Michel get up,
stamping and raving, and denouncing curses
on him. When he reached the top, he
ran towards the Tannenbiihl; a dreadful
thunderstorm came on; lightning flashed
around him, splitting the trees, but he



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 79

reached the precincts of the Little Glass Man
in safety.

His heart beat joyfully—only because it
did beat; but now he looked back with
horror on his past life, as he did on the
thunderstorm that was destroying the beauti-
ful forest on his right and left, He thought
of his wife, a beautiful, good woman, whom
he had murdered from avarice ; he appeared
to himself an outcast from mankind, and
wept bitterly as he reached the hill of the
Little Glass Man.

The Schatzhauser was sitting under a
pine-tree, and was smoking a small pipe ;
but he looked more serene than before.

‘Why do you weep, Peter?’ asked he;
‘have you not recovered your heart? Is
the cold one still in your breast ?’

‘Alas! sir, sighed Peter, ‘when I still
carried about with me the cold stony heart,
I never wept, my eyes were as dry as the
ground in July; but now my old heart will
almost break with what I have done, I
have driven my debtors to misery, set the
dogs on the sick and poor, and you yourself
know how my whip fell upon fer beautiful
forehead.’

‘Peter, you were a great sinner,’ said the
little man. ‘Money and idleness corrupted
you, until your heart turned to stone, and no
longer knew joy, sorrow, repentance, or
compassion. But repentance reconciles ;



80 STORIES FROM HAUFF

and if I only knew that you were truly sorry
for your past life, it might yet be in my
power to do something for you.’

‘I wish nothing more,’ replied Peter,
dropping his head sorrowfully. ‘It is all
over with me, I can no more rejoice in my
lifetime ; what shall I do thus alone in the
world? My mother will never pardon me
for what I have done to her, and I have
perhaps brought her to the grave, monster
that I am! Elizabeth, my wife, too,—
rather strike me dead, Herr Schatzhauser,
then my wretched life will end at once.’

‘ Well,’ replied the little man, ‘if you wish
nothing else, you can have it, so my axe is
at hand.’ He quietly took his pipe from
his mouth, knocked the ashes out, and put
it into his pocket. Then rising slowly, he
went behind the pines. But Peter sat down
weeping in the grass ; his life had no longer
any value for him, and he patiently awaited
the deadly blow. After a short time he
heard gentle steps behind him, and thought,
‘ Now he is coming.’

_ Look up once more, Peter Munk,’ cried
the little man. He wiped the tears from his
eyes and looked up, and beheld his mother,
and Elizabeth his wife, who kindly gazed on
him. Then he jumped up joyfully, saying,
‘You are not dead, then, Elizabeth, nor you,
mother; and have you forgiven me ?’

_¢They will forgive you,’ said the Little



THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 81

Glass Man, ‘because you feel true repent-
ance, and all shall be forgotten. Go home
now, to your father’s hut, and be a charcoal-
burner as before; if you are active and
honest, you will do credit to your trade, and
your neighbours will love and esteem you
more than if you possessed ten tons of gold,’
Thus saying, the Little Glass Man left them.
The three praised and blessed him, and
went home.

The splendid house of wealthy Peter stood
no longer; it was struck by lightning, and
burnt to the ground, with all its treasures.
But they were not far from his father’s hut,
and thither they went, without caring much
for their great loss. But what was their
surprise when they reached the hut; it was
changed into a handsome farmhouse, and all
in it was simple, but good and cleanly.

‘This is the Little Glass Man’s doing,’
cried Peter.

‘How. beautiful 1? said” Frau Elizabeth;

‘and here I feel more at home than in the
larger house, with many servants.’
Henceforth Peter Munk became an in-
dustrious and honest man. He was content
with what he had, carried on his trade
cheerfully, and thus it was that he became
wealthy by his own energy, and respected
and beloved in the whole forest. He no
longer quarrelled with his wife, he honoured
his mother, and relieved the poor who came
G



82 STORIES FROM HAUFF

to his door. When, after twelve months,
Frau Elizabeth presented him with a beauti-
ful little boy, Peter went to the Tannenbiihl,
and repeated the verse as before. But the
Little Glass Man did not show himself.

‘Mr. Schatzhauser,’ he cried loudly, ‘only
listen to me. I wish nothing but to ask you
to stand godfather to my little son.’ But he
received no answer, and only a short gust
of wind rushed through the pines, and cast
a few cones on the grass.

‘Then I will take these as a remembrance,
as you will not show yourself, cried Peter,
and he put them in his pocket, and returned
home. But when he took off his jacket, and
his mother turned out the pockets before
putting it away, four large rolls of money
fell out ; and when they opened them, they
found them all good and new Baden dollars,
and not one counterfeit, and these were the
intended godfather’s gift for little Peter, from
the little man in the Tannenbiihl. Thus
they lived on, quietly and cheerfully; and
many a time Peter Munk, when gray-headed,
would say, ‘It is indeed better to be content
with little, than to have wealth and a cold
heart.’ CA. F.









THE STORY OF THE CALIPH
STORK

This story is from the collection called The Caravan,
and is told by the traveller Selim,

SW)HE Caliph Chasid of Bagdad was
sitting one fine summer afternoon
comfortably on his divan; he had

: slept a little, for it was a sultry
day, and he looked quite refreshed after his
nap. He smoked a long rosewood pipe,
sipped now and then a little coffee which a
slave poured out for him, and stroked his
beard contentedly whenever he had enjoyed
it. In short, it could be seen at a glance
that the Caliph felt very comfortable. At
such a time it was easy to approach him, as
he was very good-tempered and affable,
wherefore his Grand Vizier Mansor visited
him every day about this time. This after-
noon he came as usual, looking, however,
very grave, a rare thing for him. The
Caliph took the pipe out of his mouth and





84 STORIES FROM HAUFF

said: ‘Why dost thou make so grave a face,
Grand Vizier?’ The Grand Vizier folded
his arms across his breast, bowed to his
master and answered: ‘ Master! whether I
assume a grave appearance I know not, but
down below in the palace stands a pedlar
who has such fine wares that it vexes me
that I have no money to spare.’

The Caliph, who had long desired to
rejoice the heart of his Grand Vizier, ordered
his black slave to fetch the pedlar. Ina few
moments the slave returned with him. He
was a stout little man, swarthy in the face,
and dressed in rags. He carried a box in
which he had all sorts of wares, pearls,
and rings, pistols with richly inlaid stocks,
goblets, and combs, The Caliph and his
Vizier inspected everything, and the Caliph
at last bought for himself and Vizier a pair of
pistols, and for the Vizier’s wife acomb. As
the pedlar was about to close his box again,
the Caliph caught sight. of a little drawer,
and asked whether it also contained some
wares. The pedlar pulled out the drawer,
and exhibited a snuff-box containing a black
powder and a piece of paper with peculiar
writing on it, which neither the Caliph nor
Mansor could read. ‘These things were
given to me one day by a merchant who
found them in the streets of Mecca,’ said
the pedlar. ‘I know not what they are; but
you may have them for a small sum, for they



THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK 85

are of no use to me.’ The Caliph, who was
very fond of having old manuscripts in his
library, though unable to read them, bought
both paper and box and dismissed the pedlar.
Still he thought he would like to know what
the writing meant, and asked the Vizier if
he did not know anybody who might de-
cipher it. ‘ Most gracious lord and master,’
answered the latter, ‘near the Great Mosque
lives a man called Selim the learned; he
knows all languages. Send for him; per-
haps he can explain these mysterious signs.’

The learned Selim soon arrived. ‘Selim,’
said the Caliph to him, ‘Selim, it is said
thou art very learned. Just look at this
writing whether thou canst read it; if thou
canst read it, thou gettest a new robe of
honour from me; if thou canst not, thou
gettest twelve boxes on the ears and twenty-
five lashes on the soles of thy feet, for
having been called Selim the learned with-
out cause.’ Selim bowed and said: ‘Thy
will be done, O Master!’ For a long time
he looked at the writing; suddenly, how-
ever, he exclaimed: ‘That is Latin, O
Master, or let me be hung!’ ‘Say what it
means,’ demanded the Caliph, ‘if it is
Latin.’

Selim began to translate: ‘Man who
findeth this, praise Allah for his goodness.
He who takes a pinch of this powder in this
box and therewith says ‘‘Mutabor,” can



86 STORIES FROM HAUFF

change himself into any animal, and also
understand the language of animals. If he
afterwards wish to resume his human form,
let him bow thrice to the East and say the
same word. But beware when thou art
changed that thou laughest not, or the
magic word will depart from thy memory
for ever, and thou remainest a beast.’

When Selim the learned had read this,
the Caliph was pleased beyond measure.
He made the learned man swear not to
reveal the secret to any one, presented him
with a splendid robe, and dismissed him.
Then turning to his Grand Vizier he said:
‘This I call making a bargain, Mansor!
How glad I am at being able to become an
animal! Come to me to-morrow morning.
We will then go together into the fields,
take a pinch out of the box, and then listen
to what is said in the air and the water, in
wood and field.’

Next morning, scarcely had the Caliph
Chasid breakfasted and dressed himself,
when the Grand Vizier appeared as ordered,
to accompany him on his walk. The Caliph
put the box with the magic powder in his
girdle, and having ordered his suite to
remain behind, he and the Grand Vizier
set out alone on the journey. They first
passed through the large gardens of the
Caliph, but looked in vain for any living
thing on which to try the experiment. The



THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK 87

Vizier at last proposed to pursue their
journey to a pond, where he had often seen
many animals, especially storks, whose
grave manners and clappings had always
excited his attention.

The Caliph approved of the Vizier’s pro-
posal, and went with him towards the pond.
Having arrived there, they saw a stork
soberly pacing up and down looking for
frogs, and chattering something now and
then to itself. At the same moment they
saw far up in the sky another stork hovering
in this direction.

‘I wager my beard, most gracious
Master,’ said the Grand Vizier, ‘this long-
legged pair are now having a pleasant talk,
How would it be if we turned into storks?’

‘Wisely spoken,’ replied the Caliph.
‘But first, let us consider how we may be-
come men again. It is easy enough! If
we bow thrice to the East, and say Muta-
bor, I shall be Caliph and thou Vizier.
But for heaven’s sake no laughing, or we
are lost.’

While the Caliph spoke thus, he saw the
other stork hovering over their heads, and
slowly alighting on the ground. Quickly
he snatched the box from his girdle, took a
hearty pinch, gave the box to the Grand
Vizier, who did the like, and both exclaimed
‘ Mutabor !’

Then their legs shrivelled and became



88 STORIES FROM HAUFF

thin and red, the beautiful yellow slippers
of the Caliph and those of his Vizier changed
into ugly storks’ feet, their arms grew into
wings, their necks shot up from their
shoulders and reached a yard in length,
their beards vanished, and soft feathers
covered their bodies,

s*You have a pretty beak, Mr. Grand
Vizier, said the Caliph after a surprised
silence. ‘By the beard of the Prophet, I
have never seen such things in my life!’
‘Thanks humbly,’ replied the Vizier, bow-
ing; ‘but if I might dare say so, I should
avow that your Highness looks almost hand-
somer as astork thana Caliph. But come, if
it pleases you, let us listen to our comrades
yonder and hear if we really speak
storkish.’

Meanwhile the other stork had reached
the ground. It cleaned its feet with its beak,
settled its feathers, and walked up to the
first stork. The two new storks hastened
to get near them, and to their surprise heard
the following conversation: ‘Good morning,
Madam Longlegs! You are early on the
meadows.’ ‘Thank you, dear Clapper-beak !
I have been to get a little breakfast. Would
you like to have a quarter of a lizard or a
little leg of a frog?’ ‘Much obliged; but
I have no appetite this morning. Besides,
I have come upon quite a different errand
on the meadow. I am to dance before my



THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK 89

father’s guests to-day, and I want to prac-
tise a little quietly.’

Thereupon the young stork began to caper
about the field in peculiar movements. The
Caliph and Mansor watched her, very much
surprised. But when she stood on one leg
in a picturesque attitude, and fluttered her
wings to increase the effect, neither of them
could resist ; laughter without stopping burst
from their beaks, from which they only
recovered a long time afterwards. The
Caliph was the first to recover self-posses-
sion: ‘That was a joke,’ hé exclaimed,
‘which cannot be bought for gold. What
a pity the stupid animals should have been
scared by our laughter, else they would also
have sung, to be sure !’

But now it occurred to the Grand Vizier
that laughing during the enchantment was
forbidden. He therefore communicated his
fears to the Caliph. ‘By Mecca and Medina,
that would be a bad joke if I were to remain
a stork! Do bethink thee of the stupid
word ; I cannot recall it.’

‘Three times we must bow to the East and
say: Mu—Mu—Mu.’

They turned towards the East and kept on
bowing continually till their beaks nearly
touched the ground. But, alas! the magic
word had escaped them, and often as the
Caliph bowed, and eagerly as his Vizier
added Mu—Mu—, yet every recollection of



go STORIES FROM HAUFF

it had gone, and the poor Chasid and his
Vizier were storks, and remained so.

Sadly the enchanted ones wandered
through the fields, not knowing what to do
in their misery. They could not discard
their stork-plumage, nor could they return
into the town and make themselves known,
for who would have believed that a stork
was the Caliph? and even if one-had be-
lieved it, would the inhabitants of Bagdad
accept a stork for a Caliph?

Thus they wandered about for several
days, living miserably on the fruits of the
field, which they could not swallow very
well on account of their long beaks. As for
lizards and frogs, their stomachs could not
relish such food; besides, they were afraid
of spoiling their appetite with such tit-bits.
Their only pleasure in their sad situation
was that they could fly, and thus they flew
often to the high roofs of Bagdad to see
what was going on in the town.

During the first days they remarked great
uneasiness and grief in the streets. But on
the fourth day of their enchantment, while
sitting on the roof of the Caliph’s palace,
they saw down in the street below a splendid
array. The drums and fifes played; a man
dressed in a gold-embroidered _ scarlet
mantle rode a richly-caparisoned horse,
surrounded by a gaudy train of servants.
Half Bagdad rushed about him, and every-



THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK 91

body shouted: ‘Hail, Mizra! the ruler of
Bagdad !’

Then the two storks upon the roof of the
palace looked at each other, and the Caliph
Chasid said: ‘Dost thou guess now why I
am enchanted, Grand Vizier? This Mizra
is the son of my mortal enemy, the mighty
Magician Kaschnur, who in an evil hour
swore revenge on me. But still I do not
despair. Come with me, thou faithful com-
panion of my misery; we will betake our-
selves to the grave of the Prophet ; perhaps
at that sacred shrine the magic may be
dispelled.’

They rose from the roof of the palace and
flew towards Medina.

They did not succeed very well in flying,
for as yet they had had very little practice.
‘O Master !’, sighed the Grand Vizier after
a couple of hours’ flight, ‘with your leave
I can hold out no longer, you fly too swiftly
for me! Besides, it is dark already, and
we should do well to seek shelter for the
night.’

Chasid listened to the request of his ser-
vant ; and seeing beneath them in the valley
some ruins which promised a lodging, they
flew towards it. The place where they had
settled for the night seemed formerly to
have been a castle. Splendid pillars rose
from among the ruins; several chambers
which were still tolerably preserved testified



92 STORIES FROM HAUFF

to the bygone splendour of the building.
Chasid and his companion strolled through
the passages in search of some dry nook,
when suddenly the stork Mansor stopped.
‘Lord and Master, he whispered below
his breath, ‘is it not foolish for a Grand
Vizier, and still more so for a stork to fear ~
ghosts? Still, I feel very uneasy, for close
by some one sighed and groaned quite
distinctly.’ The Caliph now also stopped,
and heard quite plainly a low sob, which
seemed rather to come from a man than an
animal. Full of anxiety, he wanted to go
towards the spot whence proceeded the
sound of sorrow; but the Vizier seized him
by the wing with his beak and begged him
not to rush upon new and unknown perils.
But all was of no avail. The Caliph, who
bore a brave heart beneath his stork plum-
age, tore himself away with the loss of some
feathers, and ran towards a gloomy passage.
Soon he came to a door which was ajar, and
behind which he heard distinct sighs and
moans. He pushed open the door with
his beak, but stopped on the threshold in
astonishment. Inthe ruined chamber, which
was only dimly lighted by a little iron-
barred window, he saw a great night-owl
sitting on the ground. Heavy tears rolled
out of its large round eyes, and with a
hoarse voice it uttered its moans from its
hooked beak, But when it saw the Caliph



Full Text





































































































































| /4 ae LINE
CHILD
3 fey,

LIBRARY



THE

LITTLE GLASS MAN




Hin a eed hy ahawing: by famed D,
FAT HEZEKIEL -
THE

EET EE GLASS MAN

AND OTHER STORIES

FROM THE GERMAN

OF

WILHELM HAUFF

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK

CASSELL PUBLISHING COMPANY
104 & 106 FOURTH AVENUE

1893


CONTENTS

PAGE

How THE STORIES WERE FOUND. By

L. ECKENSTEIN

15
83

THE LITTLE GLAss Man

THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK

100

THE Story or LitTLE Muck

130

Nose, THE DWARF


HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND
_ BY L, ECKENSTEIN

JATRY QUEEN sat in her office
\ drinking afternoon tea. Fairy
Queen, thinking how she could
please children best, had turned
She had come to London, she
had taken an office up a steep flight of stairs,
and had sent out her fairies all over Europe
in search of children’s books. Off they had
gone in all directions, and so many manu-
scripts and books had been sent in or brought
back by them, that Fairy Queen published
volume after volume of the Children’s Library,
and still there remained a lot of work to be
done.

There she sat now thinking over the tales
she had published and over those she was
planning to publish, as the clock of St. Paul’s
slowly struck five. Fairy Queen poured out
a last cup of tea; she finished sorting a heap

ae B




2 STORIES FROM HAUFF

of letters which she packed away in the
drawers of her writing-table, and listened
in the direction of the room next to hers.
There were steps on the stairs coming and
going, Then there was a good deal of
banging about the room, and Fairy Queen’s
ear caught snatches of a song.

In that room were stored books, and
manuscripts, and letters and brown paper
parcels, and there by the side of the big, big
waste-paper basket of Fairy Queen’s publish-
ing firm, sat Gogul Mogul reading manu-
scripts. Gogul Mogul was a long-legged
creature, with a tiny head, who had come
out of Fairyland to help publish tales suit-
able for child readers. He was devoted to
Fairy Queen, and read through piles and
piles of manuscript with great perseverance,
though he frequently groaned, longing to be
back in Fairyland.

But he was not groaning now. As Fairy
Queen opened the door calling to him, he
was lightly dancing a double shuffle and
waving a telegram to the tune. At sight of
her he burst into a joyous laugh.

‘Her absence need not cast a shadow on
us all,’ he cried; ‘the fairy from Germany
is on her way home. She telegraphs to me
from Dover; she will be here in time for the
fairies’ meeting. And having passed the
seas and crossed the sands, she found the
story of the Little Glass Man at last.’
HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND 3

‘A good thing, a good thing,’ said Fairy
Queen, taking the telegram; ‘as it is, I
have lost all patience with her. From France,
from Ireland, from Greece, even from Russia,
numbers of tales have arrived. And from
Germany, so much nearer to us, so much
more literary, nothing comes. Just as
though there were not plenty of fairy tales
to be found there! But I have no doubt
she has wasted so much time looking for
these special stories, just because you had set
your heart on having them.’

‘Upon my word,’ Gogul Mogul said.
And he jumped over his toes, a feat he was
fond of performing, serenely smiling at the
large blot of ink which ornamented his fore-
finger.

“Of course you will meet her at the sta-
tion,’ said Fairy Queen ; ‘see her home, and
call for her again in a cab. The meeting
begins at nine; all the fairies who are in
town will be there. And mind you do not
keep us waiting as you did last month!’

Her tone was severe; but Gogul Mogul
went on smiling his sweetest smile, while he
muttered to himself—

‘ Then skilful most, when most severely judged,
But chance it not.’

A few hours later daylight had passed
away and a bright moon looked down into the
thronged thoroughfare of Holborn, putting
4 STORIES FROM HAUFF

to shame the yellow lights of the gas lamps
and the glare of the few shop windows that
were lit up by electric light. Into side courts
and up winding alleys themoon made her way,
and poured down full into a narrow passage
up which ladies’ figures, bundled in ulsters
and shawls, were hurrying in twos and threes.

Under an arched doorway they disap-
peared. The moon could not look round
the corner, but above there was a row of
arched stone windows. She looked in at
these into a long large wainscotted old hall,
and there she found those figures and knew
them again.

I doubt if you would have known them.
I should not myself but that I had been
helping downstairs in the cloak-room, taking
hats and wraps and ulsters, even one pair of
goloshes, and mixing them up for the sur-
prise of seeing what lovely creatures came
out from those dark clothes. Have you
ever seen a butterfly squeeze out of a chrysa-
lis, I wonder? Have you seen those shin-
ing creatures shake themselves free from
their dark covering, take flight, and vanish
away? But those lovely creatures whose
cloaks I helped to ticket could not vanish
away from me altogether. Like the moon,
I managed to find them again.

For I knew of a small window upstairs
from which one could overlook the old hall.
When there were smoking concerts this
HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND 5

window was open for ventilation to let out
the smoke; to-night it should be open for
me to peep in. So when the old lady in the
cloak-room said she required my help no
longer, she thought it was time for me to
go to bed; I said ‘Thank you,’ and went
upstairs and made my way along the pas-
sages to the small window, and sat close to
it and looked down into the old hall.

Oh, the colour, the movement, the loveli-
ness of it all! I once went to a pantomime
and saw the Transformation Scene with all
the fairies. It was very beautiful and a
little like what I saw now. Only there the
fairies were all made up with painted faces,
and curls which had not grown on their
heads, while here you could see at a glance
that everything was quite real. And they
were so lovely, these fairies! I made my-
self comfortable at the window, no one could
see me from below. Only the moon from
the big window opposite stared me full in
the face. ‘No matter what you think,’ I
said, nodding at her; ‘don’t you talk about
inquisitiveness. Why there isn’t a window
or a cranny but you take a peep in if you get
the chance !’

Down below, at one end of the hall, there
was a raised platform ; on this, in the largest
of the chairs, sat Fairy Queen with a crown
on her head and a long silver train. A few
other fairies, all with long trains, sat by her,
6 STORIES FROM HAUFF

and the rest moved about in the hall. In
one corner, just below where I sat, there was
a long table, on which were set out plates with
pasties and sweets and sandwiches; there
were coloured glassesalso and flagons of wine.
Near the table stood Gogul Mogul greeting
the fairies as they arrived and handing them
refreshments. He was dressed in green
tights, his hair stood up in a great mop.
Among all those ladies he was the only
gentleman; but he knew his importance,
and he looked it.

‘Oh yes, she has come,’ I heard him say
in answer to inquiries; ‘what heart could
wish for more! she is without, putting her-
self straight. Did you say raspberry tart or
cherry tart?’ he asked, turning to a fairy.
And taking up a flagon, he quoted—

‘ Here plenty's liberal horn shall pour,
Of fruits for thee a copious shower.’

Suddenly there was a stir, the door had
opened and a fairy came in dressed in the
bluest of blues. Gogul Mogul went up to
her; she came to the table and ate a sand-
wich; then he led her by the hand to the
upper end of the room, where Fairy Queen
and the other grand fairies rose to receive
her. They talked of her long absence, then
of other things. But I was not listening;
I was watching Gogul Mogul, who had come
back to the refreshment table, where, all the
HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND 7

fairies having been helped, he proceeded to
help himself. I have seen school-boys in
bun shops, and school-girls settling down to
a feast of chocolate creams ; in these I have
sometimes joined myself. But never before,
never since, did I see the like of Gogul
Mogul. Sandwich after sandwich, tart after
tart, he put into his mouth; there was no
choosing, no hesitation, no pause, till every
bit of the food off the dishes had gone.
And then—it sounds nonsense, and no one
will believe it possible who has not seen it
done—he turned up the cloth at one end of
the table, then at the other, and went on
rolling and rolling it up over plates and
dishes and glasses and flagons, till there was
nothing left but a small napkin, which he
squeezed into the breast-pocket slit of his
tight green clothes.

I looked up and straight at the moon, who
seemed to be smiling. ‘Is it a dream,’ I
thought, ‘is it a practical joke, or is it really
a meeting of the Women’s Gossip Revival
Society, as they said downstairs ?’

The Blue Fairy was now sitting on the
platform, all the other fairies too had taken
seats. Gogul Mogul, the wonderful Gogul
Mogul, who well deserved the title of Food
Destroyer to Her Majesty, sauntered up to
the platform, where he sat down by the side
of Fairy Queen.

Fairy Queen then rose and said: ‘This
8 _ STORIES FROM HAUFF

night being the Full Moon we have met as
usual to hear what the fairies have to report
about children’s books and child-readers ;
how the children have liked the stories, and
what they think of them. But as the Blue
Fairy has just arrived from Germany, where
she has been so long, I propose to call on
her. to tell us some of her adventures.’

There was a great clapping of hands at
this. Gogul Mogul stood up, bowed to the
Blue Fairy, and said: ‘A feast of reason
and a flow of soul!’ at which there was
renewed clapping of hands.

The Blue Fairy hesitated, she fingered
the gold spangles of her dress, she shook
back her curls. Then she began:

‘Germany is a wonderful country. It is
very big as you know, and very different in
places ; the parts I like best are the large
forests which extend uphill and downhill for
many many miles. We all hope to go back
to Fairyland some day, but next to going
there we could not do better than settle in
one of these German forests; with the
squirrels playing about, and the birds sing-
ing, and the little streams bubbling between
the moss-grown rocks, I really felt quite at
home there. The folk live in the queerest
of houses, and are dressed in the queerest
of clothes ; and there can be nothing funnier
than the dear little children, who come a long
distance over the hills to school, walking

?
HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND 9

barefoot, and who sit down outside the
schoolhouse and put on their stockings and
shoes before they go in, as if wearing shoes
and stockings were part of doing lessons.
Well, I went to stay in the Black Forest
first; Gogul Mogul told me it was there I
must go to hear about the Little Glass Man.
I believe he knew him as a boy when the
Little Glass Man used to visit in Fairyland.
But I travelled about on coaches painted a
bright yellow, I stayed about in old-fashioned
sunny village inns, I heard about many
wonderful things, but I could not find out
anything about the Little Glass Man. Had
he left those parts, had people forgotten
about him ?

‘One afternoon I had been in a saw-mill
watching the saw go up and down through.
the long pine-wood trunk which slowly
moved along to meet it, to the sound of the
splashing wheel outside going round and
round. Every time the saw had cut through
the length of the trunk it stopped, there was
a great rush of water outside, a little bell
was set tinkling, and then the sawyer, or the
saw-miller, as they call him over there, wound
the trunk back and set the saw so as to cut
the next plank, and then the whole thing
was again set going. It was curious watch-
ing the sawdust jerked up, and the huge
block of timber cut lengthwise into so many
planks, and the miller going in and out over
10 STORIES FROM HAUFF

the sawdust. I felt quite sorry when at last
he stopped the: little bell without setting
the saw going again, and came and stood
by me.

‘Then we talked about this and that, and
I asked him about the Little Glass Man; he
must know so many woodmen who felled the
trees and brought the timber to the mill;
had they ever met him ?

‘The miller was a big rough man with a
stubbly beard ; I don’t know if he was at all
deaf, but when he spoke it was so loud that
he must have thought me dull of hearing.

‘“Take my advice,” he said, “if you
want to know about the country go into the
town. Don’t expect us to know about Little
Glass Men, or other little men ; we don’t care
for such things. But in the town you are
sure to find all about it stored away in some
book. Take my advice, go into a town; it
is there that you find out about things in the
country.”

‘Was he right? I wondered as I walked
home that night. I could not believe it, so
I stayed on in the Black Forest till it was
time to come home, but without ever hearing
of the Little Glass Man. I was on the rail-
road again. It was early one morning
when we stopped at a station; there was no
train for two hours, so I took a walk into
the town. There was a clear, fast-flowing
river below, and in the distance again such
HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND it

‘wonderful wooded hills. 1 went into a shop
and asked for some writing-paper.

‘The gentleman who brought it out had
ori the shabbiest of coats, but on his head
there was an embroidered velvet cap, and
his slippers too were embroidered. Only
his toes were stuck inside these, and he
moved about the shop slowly so as not to
leave them behind.

‘« And what is the name of that wood
yonder ?>—those hills, I mean ?>—those wooded
heights ?—that mountain range?” I asked,
trying word after word, and at last standing
in the doorway and pointing at the hills
opposite, while he blankly stared at me.

‘ « Where can you be from that you should
not know?” he said at last.

«Tam from England,” I said rather hotly,
“from London, a small place you may have
heard of.”

‘He nodded, “Oh yes, I know. You
have not come all that way alone; surely a
lady by herself . . .” :

‘“ Oh yes I have,” I said, “and I have a
good’ mind to go up among those hills by
myself too; perhaps some one up there
might tell me what they are called.”

‘Took here,” he said, ‘if you really
mean to go, let me lend you my map. I
have got such a splendid one. And I shan’t
be using it for months, as there is no one to
mind the shop for me.”
12 STORIES FROM HAUFF

‘He brought it out of a drawer and un-
folded it, while I stared in my turn.

‘You see,” he said, ‘that is the highest
point; now be sure you don’t miss seeing
that. You see Forsthaus Diana marked;
well there is the inn, that spot close to it.
That is where all those wonderful stories
were told.”

‘«¢ What stories?” I said; “nothing about
the Little Glass Man, I suppose ?”

‘He went to the back of the shop and
fumbled about.

‘Yes, of course, about the Little Glass
Man, and about the Golden Florin,” he said ;
“even if you live in an out-of-the-way place
like London, you must have heard of them.
Here is the book; stories by Hauff. Dear
me, to think that my father met the man
more than once who stored up all these
treasures! You can take the book as well
as the map, if you like ; if you are not coming
back this way you can send them by any one
who is.”

‘There was no chair in the shop, I had
to support myself against the counter, I felt
so overcome with having found the story at
last. The gentleman went on pointing out
the best way to go, and what I must see,
and after half an hour it was all settled, my
luggage was to be sent up one way and I
was to go another.

‘“T am glad you will see the old inn
HOW THE STORIES WERE FOUND 13

standing where the stories were told,” he
said, ‘and you will be quite comfortable at
the forest-house Diana. If I were you I
should tell the lady-forester at once that you
are an English girl, and no Nihilist ; that is
what she is sure to think if she sees a girl
travelling about by herself. Tell her I sent
you there, and give my love to her niece
Malchen, a wild little girl but a good one, I
feel sure, whatever they say to the contrary.”’
At this point of her narrative the Blue
Fairy stopped. There was a pause.
‘Well?’ said Gogul Mogul. ‘Go on, please
go on,’ the fairies called in the audience.
‘There is nothing more to tell,’ said the
Blue Fairy; ‘the story of the Little Glass
Man was found. I read it through the next
afternoon, sitting in the garden of the inn
where the student had originally told it.
Then I went back into the forest-house
Diana, and sat chatting in the kitchen with
the lady-forester while the apples and
potatoes for the pigs were stewing, and
Malchen sat by eating sour milk from a
great earthenware bowl. But of course that
has nothing to do with the finding of the
stories. Only it was so enjoyable up there,
it was so delightful walking with that splendid
map, and reading those stories, and making
friends with a charcoal-burner who was quite
like Peter Munk, and looking on while huge
bits of timber were felled, that I stayed on
14 STORIES FROM HAUFF

and on. Only of course there was the work
of translating the stories into English.’

Again the Blue Fairy stopped ; there was
prolonged cheering and clapping of hands.
It was Fairy Queen who spoke next :

‘All this is very interesting,’ she said,
‘and so, I feel sure, is a great deal more
which the Blue Fairy could tell us about
Germany. But she has been travelling all
day, she must be tired, we must not ask for
more to-night ; only I am sure you must all
be wanting to hear the story about this Little
Glass Man. As for myself, I. am most
anxious to hear what he was like and what
he did. As the fairy has translated the
story into English, and Gogul Mogul is sure
to have the manuscript about him, I propose
calling on him to read it to us.’

There was long and loud cheering at this
among the fairies. Gogul Mogul fumbled
first in one pocket, then in another; at last
he brought out a roll of manuscript and
began as follows :




THE LITTLE GLASS MAN

HOSE who travel through Swabia
should always remember to cast
a passing glance into the Schwarz-

as wald,! not so much for the sake
of the trees (though pines are not found
everywhere in such prodigious numbers,
nor of such a surpassing height), as for the
sake of the people, who show a marked
difference from all others in the neighbour-
hood. They are taller than ordinary men,
broad - shouldered, strong-limbed, and it
seems as if the bracing air which blows
through the pines in the morning, had
allowed them, from their youth upwards, to
breathe more freely, and had given them a
clearer eye and a firmer, though ruder,
mind than the inhabitants of the valleys
and plains. The strong contrast they form
to the people living without the limits of the

1 The Black Forest.


16 STORIES FROM HAUFF

‘‘ Wald,” consists, not merely in their bear-
ing and stature, but also in their manners
and costume. Those of the Schwarzwald
of the Baden territory dress most hand-
somely ; the men allow their beards to grow
about the chin just as nature gives it; and
their black jackets, wide trousers, which
are plaited in small folds, red stockings,
and painted hats surrounded by a broad
brim, give them a strange, but somewhat
grave and noble appearance. Their usual
occupations are the manufacturing of glass,
and the so-called Dutch clocks, which they
carry about for sale over half the globe.
Another part of the same race lives on
the other side of the Schwarzwald; but
their occupations have made them contract
manners and customs quite different. from
those of the glass manufacturers. Their
Wald supplies their trade; felling and
fashioning their pines, they float them
through the /Vagold into the Meckar, from
thence down the Rhine as far as Holland;
and near the sea the Schwarzwdlder and
their long rafts are well known. Stopping
at every town which is situated along the
river, they wait proudly for purchasers of
their beams and planks; but the strongest
and longest beams they sell at a high price to
Mynheers, who build ships of them. Their
trade has accustomed them to a rude and
roving life, their pleasure consisting in
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 17

drifting down the stream on their timber,
their sorrow in wandering back again along
the shore. ‘Hence the difference in their
costume from that of the glass manufacturers,
They wear jackets of a dark linen cloth,
braces a hand-breadth wide, displayed over
the chest, and trousers of black leather,
from the pocket of which a brass rule sticks
out as a badge of honour; but their pride
and joy are their boots, which are probably
the largest that are worn in any part of the
world, for they may be drawn two spans
above the knee, and the raftsmen may walk
about in water at three feet depth without
getting their feet wet.

It is but a short time ago that the belief
in hobgoblins of the wood prevailed among
the inhabitants, this foolish superstition
having been eradicated only in modern
times. But the singularity about these
hobgoblins who are said to haunt the
Schwarzwald, is, that they also wear the
different costumes of the people. Thus it
is affirmed of the Little Glass Man, a kind
little sprite three feet and a half high, that
he never shows himself except in a painted
little hat with a broad brim, a doublet, white
trousers, and red stockings; while Dutch
Michel, who haunts the other side of the
forest, is said to be a gigantic, broad-
shouldered fellow wearing the dress of a
raftsman ; and many who have seen him

Cc
18 STORIES FROM HAUFF

say they would not like to pay for the
calves whose hides it would require to make
one pair of his boots, affirming that, without
exaggeration, a man of the middle height
may stand in one of them with his head
only just peeping out.

The following strange adventure with
these spirits is said to have once befallen a
young Schwarzwalder:—There lived a widow
in the Schwarzwald whose name was Frau
Barbara Munk; her husband had been a
charcoal-burner, and after his death she had
by degrees prevailed upon her boy, who was
now sixteen years old, to follow his father’s
trade. Young Peter Munk, a sly fellow,
submitted to sit the whole week near the
smoking stack of wood, because he had seen
his father do the same ; or, black and sooty
and an abomination to the people as he was,
to drive to the nearest town and sell his
charcoal. Now a charcoal-burner has
much leisure for reflection, about himself
and others; and when Peter Munk was
sitting by his stack, the dark trees around
him, as well as the deep stillness of the
forest, disposed his heart to tears, and to
an unknown secret longing. Something
made him sad, and vexed him, without his
knowing exactly what it was. At length,
however, he found out the cause of his vexa-
tion,—it was his condition. ‘A_ black,
solitary charcoal-burner,’ he said to himself;
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 19

‘it is a wretched life. How much more
are the glass manufacturers, and the clock-
makers regarded ; and even the musicians,
on a Sunday evening! And when Peter
Munk appears washed, clean, and dressed
out in his father’s best jacket with the silver
buttons and bran-new red stockings— if
then, any one walking behind him, thinks
to himself, “I wonder who that smart fellow
is?” admiring, all the time, my stockings
and stately gait ;—if then, I say, he passes
me and looks round, will he not say, “Why,
it is only Peter Munk, the charcoal-burner” ??

The raftsmen also on the other side of
the wood were an object of envy to him.
When these giants of the forest came over
in their splendid clothes, wearing about
their bodies half a hundredweight of silver,
either in buckles, buttons, or chains, stand-
ing with sprawling legs and consequential
look to see the dancing, swearing in Dutch,
and smoking Cologne clay pipes a yard
long, like the most noble Mynheers, then
he pictured to himself such a raftsman as
the most perfect model of human happiness.
But when these fortunate men put their
hands into their pocket, pulled out hand-
fuls of thalers and staked a Sechsbitzner
piece upon the cast of a die, throwing their
five or ten florins to and fro, he was almost
mad and sneaked sorrowfully home to his
hut. Indeed he had seen some of these
20 STORIES FROM HAUFF

gentlemen of the timber trade, on many a
holy-day evening, lose more than his poor
old father had gained in the whole year.
There were three of these men in particular
of whom he knew not which to admire
most. The one was a tall stout man with
ruddy face, who passed for the richest man
in the neighbourhood; he was _ usually
called.‘ fat Hezekiel.’ Twice every year he
went with timber to Amsterdam, and had
the good luck to sell it so much dearer than
the others that he could return home in a
splendid carriage, while they had to walk.
The second was the tallest and leanest man
in the whole Wadd, and was usually called
‘the tall Schlurker’ ; it was his extraordinary
boldness that excited Munk’s envy, for he
contradicted people of the first importance,
‘took up more room than four stout men, no
matter how crowded the inn might be,
setting either both his elbows upon the
table, or drawing one of his long legs on
the bench; yet, notwithstanding all this,
none dared to oppose him, since he had a
prodigious quantity of money. The third
was a handsome young fellow, who being
the best dancer far around, was called ‘the
king of the dancing-room.’ Originally poor,
he had been servant to one of the timber
merchants, when all at once he became
immensely rich ; for which some accounted
by saying he had found a potful of money
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 21

under an old pine tree, while others asserted
that he had fished up in the Rhine, near
Bingen, a packet of gold coins with the
spear which these raftsmen sometimes throw
at the fish as they go along in the river,
that-packet being part of the great ‘ Niebe-
lungenhort,’ which is sunk there. However
this might be, the fact of his suddenly be-
coming rich caused him to be looked upon
as a prince by young and old.

Often did poor Peter Munk the coal-
. burner think of these three men when sitting
alone in the pine forest. All three indeed
had one great fault, which made them hated
by everybody; this was their insatiable
avarice, their heartlessness towards their
debtors and towards the poor, for the
Schwarzwilder are naturally a kind-hearted
people. However, we all know how it is in
these matters ; though they were hated for
their avarice, yet they commanded respect
on account of their money, for who but they
could throw away thalers, as if they could
shake them from the pines?

‘This will do no longer,’ said Peter one
day to himself, when he felt very melancholy,
it being the morrow after a holiday, when
everybody had been at the inn; ‘if I don’t
soon thrive I shall make away with myself;
oh that I were as much looked up to and as
rich as the stout Hezekiel, or as bold and
powerful as the tall Schlurker, or as renowned
22 STORIES FROM HAUFF

as the king of the dancing-room, and could,
like him, throw thalers instead of kreutzers to
the musicians! I wonder where the fellow
gets his money!’ Reflecting upon all the
different means by which money may be got,
he could please: himself with none, till at
length he thought of the tales of those people
who, in times of old, had become rich through
the Dutchman Michel, or the Little Glass
Man. During his father’s lifetime other
poor people often came to call, and then
their conversation was generally about rich .
persons, and the means by which they had
come by their riches; in these discourses
the Little Glass Man frequently played a
conspicuous part. Now, if Peter strained
his memory a little, he could almost recall
the short verse which one must repeat near
the Tannenbiihl in the heart of the forest,
to make the sprite appear. It began as
follows—

‘ Keeper of wealth in the forest of pine,
Hundreds of years are surely thine :
Thine is the tall pine’s dwelling place—’

But he might tax his memory as much as
he pleased, he could remember no.more of
it. He often thought of asking some aged
person what the whole verse was. However,
a certain fear of betraying his thoughts kept
him back, and moreover he concluded that
the legend of the Little Glass Man could not
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 23

be very generally known, and that but few
were acquainted with the incantation, since
there were not many rich persons in the
Wald ;—if it were generally known, why had
not his father, and other poor people, tried
their luck? At length, however, he one day
got his mother to talk about the little man,
and she told him what he knew already, as
she herself remembered only the first line of
the verse; but she added that the sprite
would show himself only to those who had
been born on a Sunday, between eleven and
two o’clock. He was, she said, quite fit for
evoking him, as he was born at twelve o’clock
at noon ; if he but knew the verse.

When Peter Munk heard this he was
almost beside himself with joy and desire to
try the adventure. It appeared to him
enough to know part of the verse, and to be
born on a Sunday, for the Little Glass Man to
show himself. Consequently when he one
day had sold his charcoal, he did not light a
new stack, but put on his father’s holiday
jacket, his new red stockings, and best hat,
took his blackthorn stick, five feet long, into
his hand, and bade farewell to his mother,
saying, ‘I must go to the magistrate in the
town, for we shall soon have to draw lots
who is to be soldier, and therefore I wish to
impress once more upon him that you are a
widow, and I am your only son.’ His
mother praised his resolution ; but he started
24 STORIES FROM HAUFF

for the Tannenbiihl. This lies on the highest
point of the Schwarzwald, and not a village
or even a hut was found, at that time, for two
leagues around, for the superstitious people
believed it was haunted; they were even
very unwilling to fell timber in that part,
though the pines were tall and excellent, for
often the axes of the wood-cutters had flown
off the handle into their feet, or the trees
falling suddenly, had knocked the men
down, and either injured or even killed them;
moreover, they could have used the finest
trees from there only for fuel, since the rafts-
men never would take a trunk from the
Tannenbiihl as part of a raft, there being a
tradition that both men and timber would
come to harm if they had a tree from that
spot on the water. Hence the trees there
grew so dense and high that it was almost
night at noon. When Peter Munk ap-
proached the place, he felt quite awe-
stricken, hearing neither voice nor footstep
except his own; no axe resounded, and
even the birds seemed to shun the darkness
amidst the pines.

Peter Munk had now reached the highest
point of the Tannenbiihl, and stood before a
pine of enormous girth, for which a Dutch
shipbuilder would have given many hundred
florins on the spot. ‘Here,’ said he, ‘the
treasure-keeper (Schatzhauser) no doubt
lives ;? and pulling off his large hat, he
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN | 25

made a low bow before the tree, cleared his
throat, and said with a trembling voice, ‘I
wish you a good evening, Mr. Glass Man.’
But recéiving no answer, and all around
remaining silent as before, he thought it
would probably be better to say the verse,
and therefore murmured it forth. On re-
peating the words he saw, to his great
astonishment, a singular and very small
figure peep forth from behind the tree. It
seemed to him as if he had beheld the Little
Glass Man, just as he was described; the
little black jacket, red stockings, hat, all
even to the pale, but fine shrewd countenance
of which the people talked so much, he
thought he had seen. But alas, as quickly
as it had peeped’ forth, as quickly it had
disappeared again. ‘Mr. Glass Man,’ cried
Peter Munk, after a short hesitation, ‘ pray
don’t make a fool of me; if you fancy that
I have not seen you, you are vastly mistaken ;
I saw you very well peeping forth from
behind the tree.’ Still no answer; only at
times he fancied he heard a low, hoarse
tittering behind the tree. At length his
impatience conquered this fear, which: had
still restrained him, and he cried, ‘ Wait, you
little rascal, I will have you yet.’ At the
same time he jumped behind the tree, but
there was no Schatzhauser, and only a pretty
little squirrel was running up the tree.

Peter Munk shook his head; he saw he
26 STORIES FROM HAUFF

had succeeded to a certain degree in the
incantation, and that he perhaps only wanted
one more rhyme to the verse to evoke the
Little Glass Man; he tried over and over
again, but could not think of anything. The
squirrel showed itself on the lowest branches
of the tree, and seemed to encourage or
perhaps to mock him. It trimmed itself, it
rolled its pretty tail, and looked at him with
its cunning eyes. At length he was almost
afraid of being alone with this animal; for
sometimes it seemed to have a man’s head
and to wear a three-cornered hat, sometimes
to be quite like another squirrel, with the
exception only of having red stockings and
black shoes on its hind feet. In short, it
was a merry little creature, but still Peter
felt an awe, fancying that all was not right.
Peter now went away with more rapid
strides than he had come. The darkness of
the forest seemed to become blacker and
blacker ; the trees stood closer to each other,
and he began to be so terrified that he ran
off in a trot, and only became more tranquil
when he heard dogs bark at a distance, and
soon after descried the smoke of a hut
through the trees. But on coming nearer
and seeing the dress of the people, he found
that having taken the contrary direction, he
had got to the raftsmen instead of the glass-
makers. The people living in the hut were
wood-cutters, consisting of an aged man with
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 27

his son, who was the owner, and some grown-
up grandchildren. They received Peter
Munk, who begged a night’s quarter, hospi-
tably enough without asking his name or
residence; they gave him cider to drink,
and in the evening a large black cock, the
best meal in the Schwarzwald, was served
up for supper.

After this meal the housewife and her
daughters took their distaffs and sat round
a large pine torch, which the boys fed with
the finest rosin; the host with his guest sat
smoking and looking at the women; while
the boys were busy carving wooden spoons
and forks. The storm was howling and
raging through the pines in the forest with-
out, and now and then very heavy blasts
were heard, and it was as if whole trees were
breaking off and crashing down. The fear-
less youths were about to run out to witness
this terrific and beautiful spectacle, but their
grandfather kept them back with a stern
look and these words: ‘I would not advise
any of you,’ cried he, ‘to go now outside the
door ; by heavens he never would return, for
Michel the Dutchman is building this night
a new raft in the forest.’

The younger of them looked at him with
astonishment, having probably heard before
of Michel, but they begged their grandpapa
to tell them some interesting story of him.
Peter Munk, who had heard but confused
28 STORIES FROM HAUFF

stories of Michel the Dutchman on the other
side of the forest, joined in this request,
asking the old man who and where’ he was.
‘He is the lord of the forest,’ was the answer ;
‘and from your not having heard this at
your age, it follows that you must be a
native of those parts just beyond the Tannen-
biihl, or perhaps still more distant. But I
will tell you all I know, and how the story
goes about him. A hundred years ago or
thereabouts, there were far and wide no
people more upright in their dealings than
the Schwarzwilder, at least so my grand-
father used to tell me. Now, since there is
so much money in the country, the people
are dishonest and bad. The young fellows
dance and riot on Sundays, and swear to
such a degree that it is horrible to hear
them; whereas formerly it was quite different,
and I have often said and now say, though
he should look in through the window, that
the Dutchman Michel is the cause of all
this depravity. A hundred years ago there
lived a very rich timber merchant who had
many servants; he carried his trade far down
the Rhine and was very prosperous, being a
pious man. One evening a person such as
he had never seen came to his door; his
dress was like that of the young fellows of
the Schwarzwald, but he was full a head
taller than any of them, and no one had
ever thought there could be such a giant.
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 29

He asked for work, and the timber merchant,
seeing he was strong, and able to carry
great weights, agreed with him about the
wages and took him into his service. He
found Michel to be a labourer such as he
had never yet had; for in felling trees he
was equal to three ordinary men, and when
six men were pulling at one end of a trunk
he would carry the other end alone. After
having been employed in felling timber for
six months, he came one day before his
master, saying, “I have now been cutting
wood long enough here, and should like to
see what becomes of my trunks; what say
you to letting me go with the rafts for once?”
To which his master replied, “I have no
objection, Michel, to your seeing a little of
the world; to be sure ] want strong men
like yourself to fell the timber, and on the
river all depends upon skill; but, neverthe-
less, be it for this time as you wish.”

‘Now the float with which Michel was to go
consisted of eight rafts, and in the last there
were some of the largest beams. But what
then? The evening before starting the tall
Michel brought eight beams to the water,
thicker and longer than had ever been seen,
and he carried every one of them as easily
upon his shoulder as if it had been a rowing-
pole, so that all were amazed. Where he
had felled them, no one knows to this day.
The heart of the timber merchant was leaping

coe
30 STORIES FROM HAUFF

with joy when he saw this, calculating what
these beams would fetch ; but Michel said,
“Well, these are for me to travel on; with
those chips I should not be able to get on
at all.” His master was going to make him
a present of a pair of boots, but throwing
them aside, Michel brought out a pair the
largest that had ever been seen, and my
grandfather assured me they weighed a
hundred pounds and were five feet long.
‘The float started; and if Michel had
before astonished the wood-cutters, he per-
fectly astonished the raftsmen ; for his raft,
instead of drifting slowly down the river as
they thought it would, by reason of the im-
mense beams, darted on like an arrow, as
soon as they came into the Neckar. If the
river took a turn, or if they came to any
part where they had a difficulty in keeping
the middle stream, or were in danger of
running aground, Michel always jumped into
the water, pushing his float either to the
right or to the left, so that he glided past
without danger. If they came to a part
where the river ran straight, Michel often
sprang to the foremost raft, and making all
put up their poles, fixed his own enormous
pole in the sand, and by one push made the
float dart along, so that it seemed as if the
land, trees, and villages were flying by them.
Thus they came in half the time they gener-.
ally took to Cologne on the Rhine, where
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 31

they formerly used to sell their timber.
Here Michel said, “‘You are but sorry mer-
chants and know nothing of your advantage.
Think you these Colognese want all the
timber from the Schwarzwald for themselves ?
I tell you no, they buy it of you for half its
value, and sell it dear to Holland. Let us
sell our small beams here, and go to Holland
with the large ones; what we get above the
ordinary price is our own profit.”

‘Thus spoke the subtle Michel, and the
others consented ; some because they liked
to go and see Holland, some for the sake of
the money. Only one man was honest, and
endeavoured to dissuade them from putting
the property of their master in jeopardy or
cheating him out of the higher price. How-
ever, they did not listen to him and forgot
his words, while Michel forgot them not.
So they went down the Rhine with the
timber, and Michel, guiding the float, soon
brought them to Rotterdam. Here they
were offered four times as much as at
Cologne, and particularly the large beams
of Michel fetched a very high sum. When
the Schwarzwalders beheld the money, they
were almost beside themselves with joy.
Michel divided the money, putting aside
one-fourth for their master, and distributing
the other three among the men. And now
they went into the public-houses with sailors
and other rabble, squandering their money
32 STORIES FROM HAUFF

in drinking and gambling ; while the honest
fellow who had dissuaded them was sold by
Michel to a slave-trader, and has never been
heard of since. From that time forward
Holland was a paradise to the fellows from
the Schwarzwald, and the Dutchman Michel
their king. For a long time the timber
merchants were ignorant of this proceeding,
and before people were aware, money, swear-
ing, corrupt manners, drunkenness and
gambling were imported from Holland.
‘When the thing became known, Michel
was nowhere to be found, but he was not
dead; for a hundred years he has been
haunting the forest, and is said to have
helped many in becoming rich at the cost of
their souls of course: more I will not say.
This much, however, is certain, that to the
present day, in boisterous nights, he finds
out the finest pines in the Tannenbiihl where
people are not to fell wood; and my father
has seén him break off one of four feet
diameter, as he would break a reed. Such
trees he gives to those who turn from the
right path and go to him; at midnight they
bring their rafts to the water and he goes to
Holland with them. If I were lord and king
in Holland, I would have him shot, for all the
ships that have but a single beam of Michel’s,
must go to the bottom. Hence it is that
we hear of so many shipwrecks ; if it were
not so, how could a beautiful, strong ship as
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 33

large as a church go down. But as often
as Michel fells a pine in the forest during a
boisterous night, one of his old ones starts
from its joints, the water enters, and the
ship is lost, men and all. So far goes the
legend of the Dutchman Michel; and true
it is that all the evil in the Schwarzwald
dates from him. Oh! he can make one
rich,’ added the old man mysteriously ; ‘ but
I would have nothing from him ; I would at
no price be in the shoes of fat Hezekiel and
the long Schlurker. The king of the
dancing-room, too, is said to have made
himself over to him.’

The storm had abated during the narra-
tive of the old man ; the girls timidly lighted
their lamps and retired, while the men put
a sackful of leaves upon the bench by the
stove as a pillow for Peter Munk, and wished
him good-night.

Never in his life had Peter such heavy
dreams as during this night; sometimes he
fancied the dark gigantic Michel was tearing
the window open and reaching in with his
monstrous long arm a purse full of gold
pieces, which jingled clearly and loudly as
he shook them ; at another time he saw the
little friendly Glass Man riding upon a huge
green bottle about the room, and thought
he heard again the same hoarse laughter as in
the Tannenbiihl ; again something hummed
into his left ear the following verse—

D
34 STORIES FROM HAUFF

‘In Holland I wot,
There's gold to be got,
Small price for a lot,
Who would have it not?’

Again he heard in his right ear the song
of the Schatzhauser in the green forest, and
a soft voice whispered to him, ‘ Stupid Coal-
Peter, stupid Peter Munk, you cannot find a
rhyme with “place,” and yet are born on a
Sunday at twelve o’clock precisely. Rhyme,
dull Peter, rhyme !’

He groaned, he wearied himself to find a
rhyme, but never having made one in his
life, his trouble in his dream was fruitless.
When he awoke the next morning with the
first dawn, his dream seemed strange to
him ; he sat down at the table with his arms
crossed, and meditated upon the whisperings
that were still ringing in his ears. He said
to himself, ‘Rhyme, stupid Peter, rhyme,’
knocking his forehead with his finger, but
no rhyme would come. While still sitting
in this mood, looking gloomily down before
him and thinking of a rhyme with ‘place,’
he heard three men passing outside and
going into the forest, one of whom was
singing —

‘I stood upon the brightest place,

I gazed upon the plain,

And then—oh then—I saw that face,
T never saw again.’
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 35

These words flashed like lightning through
Peter’s ear, and hastily starting up, he rushed
out of the house, thinking he was mistaken
in what he had heard, ran after the three
fellows and seized, suddenly and rudely, the
singer by the arm, crying at the same time,
‘Stop, friend, what was it you rhymed with
“place”? Do me the favour to tell me
what you were singing.’

‘What possesses you, fellow ?’ replied the
Schwarzwalder. ‘I may sing what I like;
let go my arm, or. :

‘No, you shall tell me what you were
singing,’ shouted Peter, almost beside him-
self, clutching him more tightly at the same
time. When the other two saw this, they
were not long in falling foul upon poor Peter
with their large fists, and belabouring him
till the pain made him release the third, and
he sank exhausted upon his knees.

‘Now you have your due,’ said they, laugh-
ing ; ‘and mark you, madcap, never again
stop people like us upon the highway.’

‘Woe is me!’ replied Peter with a sigh,
‘T shall certainly recollect it. But now that
I have had the blows, you will oblige me by
telling me plainly what he was singing.’ To
this they laughed again and mocked him;
but the one who had sung repeated the song
to him, after which they went away laughing
and singing.

““Face,”’ then said the poor belaboured


36 STORIES FROM HAUFF

Peter as he got up slowly, ‘will rhyme with
“place” ; now, Little Glass Man, I will have
another word with you.’ He went into the
hut, took his hat and long stick, bade fare--
well to the inmates, and commenced his way
back to the Tannenbiihl. Being under the
necessity of inventing a verse, he proceeded
slowly and thoughtfully on his way; at
length, when he was already within the
precincts of the Tannenbiihl, and the trees
became higher and closer, he found his verse,
and for joy cut a caper in the air. All at
once he saw coming from behind the trees
a gigantic man dressed like a raftsman, who
held in his hand a pole as large as the mast
of a ship. Peter Munk’s knees almost gave
way under him, when he saw him slowly
striding by his side, thinking he was no other
than the Dutchman Michel. Still the terrible
figure kept silence, and Peter cast a side
glance at him from time to time. He was
full a head taller than the biggest man Peter
had even seen; his face expressed neither
youth nor old age, but was full of furrows
and wrinkles ; he wore a jacket of linen, and
the enormous boots being drawn above his
leather breeches, were well known to Peter
from hearsay.

‘What are you doing in the Tannenbiihl,
Peter Munk?’ asked the wood king at
length, in a deep, roaring voice.

«. ‘Good morning, countryman,’ ‘eplied
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 37

Peter, wishing to show himself undaunted,
but trembling violently all the while.

‘Peter Munk,’ replied Michel, casting a
piercing, terrible glance at him, ‘your way
does not lie through this grove.’

‘True, it does not exactly,’ said Peter,
‘but being a hot day, I thought it would be
cooler. here.’

‘Do not lie, Peter,’ cried Michel, in a
thundering voice, ‘or I strike you to the
ground with this pole; think you I have not
seen you begging of the little one?’ he
added mildly. ‘Come, come, confess it was
a silly trick, and it is well you did not know
the verse ; for the little fellow is a skinflint,
giving but little; and he to whom he gives
is never again cheerful in his life. Peter,
you are but a poor fool and I pity you in my
soul; you, such a brisk, handsome fellow,
surely could do something better in the
world than make charcoal. While others
lavish big thalers and ducats, you can
scarcely spend a few pence; ’tis a wretched
life.’

‘You are right, it is truly a wretched life.’

‘Well, continued Michel, ‘I will not
stand upon trifles; you would not be the
first honest good fellow whom I have
assisted at a pinch. Tell me, how many
hundred thalers do you want for the
present ?? shaking the money in his huge
pocket, as he said this, so that it jingled
38 STORIES FROM HAUFF

just as Peter had heard it in his dream.
But Peter’s heart felt a kind of painful con-
vulsion at these words, and he was cold and
hot alternately ; for Michel did not look as
if he would give away money out of charity,
without asking anything in return. The
old man’s mysterious words about rich
people occurred to him, and urged by an
inexplicable anxiety and fear, he cried,
‘Much obliged to you, sir, but I will have
nothing to do with you and know you well,’
and at the same time he began to run as
fast as he could. The wood spirit, how-
ever, strode by his side with immense
steps, murmuring and threatening, ‘ You
will repent it, Peter; it is written on your
forehead and to be read in your eyes that
you will not escape me. Do not run so
fast, listen only to a single rational word;
there is my boundary already.’ But Peter,
hearing this and seeing at a little distance
before him a small ditch, hastened the more
to pass this boundary, so that Michel was
obliged at length to run faster, cursing and
threatening while pursuing him. With a
desperate leap Peter cleared the ditch, for
he saw that the wood spirit was raising his
pole to dash it upon him ; having fortunately
reached the other side, he heard the pole
shatter to pieces in the air as if against an
invisible wall, and a long piece fell down at
his feet.
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 39

He picked it up in triumph ‘to throw it
at the rude Michel; but in an instant he
felt the piece of wood move in his hand,
and, to his horror, perceived that he held
an enormous serpent, which was raising
itself up towards his face with its venomous
tongue and glistening eyes. He let go his
hold, but it had already twisted itself tight
round his arm and came still closer to his
face with its vibrating head; at this instant,
however, an immense black cock rushed
down, seized the head of the serpent with
its beak, and carried it up in the air.
Michel, who had observed all this from the
other side of the ditch, howled, cried, and
raved when he saw the serpent carried
away by one more powerful than himself.

Exhausted and trembling, Peter continued
his way; the path became steeper, the
country wilder, and soon he found himself
before the large pine. He again made a
bow to the invisible Little Glass Man, as he
had done the day before, and said—

‘ Keeper of wealth in the forest of pine,
Hundreds of years are surely thine,

Thine is the tall pine’s dwelling place,
Those born on Sunday see thy face.’

‘You have not quite hit it,’ said a delicate
fine voice near him, ‘but as it is you, Peter,
I will not be particular’ Astonished he
looked round, and lo! under a_ beautiful
pine there sat a little old man in a black
40 STORIES FROM HAUFF

jacket, red stockings, and a large hat on his
head. He had a tiny affable face and a
little beard as fine as a spider’s web; and
strange to see, he was smoking a pipe of
blue glass. Nay, Peter observed to his
astonishment, 6n coming nearer, that the
clothes, shoes, and hat of the little man
were also of coloured glass, which was as
flexible as if it were still hot, bending like
cloth to every motion of the little man.

‘You have met the lubber Michel, the
Dutchman ?’ asked the little man, laughing
strangely between each word. ‘He wished
to frighten you terribly; but I have got his
magic cudgel, which he shall never have
again.’

‘Yes, Mr. Schatzhauser,’ replied Peter,
with a profound bow, ‘I was terribly fright-
ened. But I suppose the black cock was
yourself, and I am much obliged to you for
killing the serpent. The object of my visit
to you, however, is to ask your advice; I
am in very poor circumstances, for charcoal-
burning is not a profitable trade; and being
still young I should think I might be made
something better, seeing so often as I do
how other people have thriven in a short
time ; I need only mention Hezekiel, and
the king of the dancing-room, who have
money like dirt.’

‘Peter,’ said the little man gravely,
blowing the smoke of his pipe a long way
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 41

off, ‘don’t talk to me of these men. What
good have they from being apparently
happy for a few years here, and the more
unhappy for it afterwards? you must not
despise your trade; your father and grand-
father were honest people, Peter Munk,
and they carried on the same trade. Let
me not suppose it is love of idleness that
brings you to me.’

Peter was startled at the gravity of the
little man, and blushed. ‘No, Mr. Schatz-
hauser,’ said he; ‘idleness is the root of
every vice, but you cannot blame me, if
another condition pleases me better than
my own. A charcoal-burner is, in truth, a
very mean personage in this world; the
glass manufacturer, the raftsmen, and clock-
makers, are people much more looked
upon.’

‘Pride will have a fall,’ answered the
little man of the pine wood, rather more
kindly. ‘What a singular race you are,
you men! It is but rarely that one is con-
tented with the condition in which he was
born and bred, and I would lay a wager
that if you were a glass manufacturer, you
would wish to be a timber merchant, and
if you were a timber merchant you would
take a fancy to the ranger’s place, or the
residence of the bailiff. But no matter for
that ; if you promise to work hard, I will
get you something better to do. It is my
42 STORIES FROM HAUFF

practice to grant three wishes to those born
on a Sunday, who know how to find me
out. The first two are quite free from any
condition, the third I may refuse, should it
be a foolish one. Now, therefore, Peter,
say your wishes ; but mind you wish some-
thing good and useful.’

‘Hurrah!’ shouted Peter; ‘you are a
capital glass man, and justly do people call
you the treasure-keeper, for treasures seem
to be plentiful with you. Well, then, since
I may wish what my heart desires, my first
wish is that I may be able to dance better
than the king of the dancing-room, and to
have always as much money in my pocket
as fat Hezekiel.’

‘You fool!’ replied the little man
angrily, ‘what a paltry wish is this, to be
able to dance well and to have money for
gambling. Are you not ashamed of this
silly wish, you blockish Peter? Would you
cheat yourself out of good fortune? What
good will you and your poor mother reap
from your dancing well? What use will
money be to you, which, according to your
wish, is only for the public-house, there to
be spent like that of the wretched king of
the dancing-room? And then you will have
nothing for the whole week and _ starve.
Another wish is now left free to you; but
have a care to desire something more
rational.’
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 43

Peter scratched himself behind his ears,
and said, after some hesitation, ‘Now I
wish for the finest and richest glass factory in
the Schwarzwald, with everything appertain-
ing to it, and money to carry it on.’

‘Is that all?’ asked the little man, with
a look of anxiety; ‘is there nothing else,
Peter ??

‘Why you might add a horse and chaise.’

‘Oh, you stupid Peter!’ cried the little
man, while he flung his glass pipe against
a thick pine so that it broke in a hundred
pieces. ‘Horses? a carriage? Sense, I
tell you, sense—common sense and judg-
ment you ought to have wished for, but not
a horse and chaise. Come, come, don’t be
so sad, we will do all we can to make it
turn out for the best, even as it is, for the
second wish is on the whole not altogether
foolish. A good glass factory will support
its man; but you ought to have wished for
judgment and sense in addition; a horse
and chaise would come as a matter of course.’

‘But, Mr. Schatzhauser,’ replied Peter,
‘If have another wish left, and might very
well wish for sense, if I am so much in
need of it, as you seem to think.’

‘Say no more about it. You will get
involved in many an embarrassment yet,
when you will be glad of being at liberty
to obtain your third wish. And now pro-
ceed on your way home.’ Drawing a small
44 _ STORIES FROM HAUFF

bag from his pocket, he said: ‘There are
two thousand florins; let that be enough,
and don’t come again asking for money, for,
if you do, I must hang you up to the
highest pine. That is the way I have
always acted ever since I have lived in the
forest. Three days ago old Winkfritz died,
who had a large glass factory in the Unter-
wald. Go there to-morrow morning, and
make a fair offer for it. Look well to
yourself. Be prudent and be industrious ;
I will come to see you from time to time,
and assist you with word and deed, since
you have not wished for common sense.
But I must repeat it seriously ; your first
wish was evil. Guard against frequenting
the public-house, Peter; no one who did so
ever prospered long.’ The little man, while
thus talking to him, had taken a new pipe,
of the most beautiful glass, from his pocket,
charged it with dry fir-apples, and stuck it
into his little toothless mouth. Then
drawing out a large burning-glass, he
stepped into the sun and lighted it. When
*he had done this, he kindly offered his hand
to Peter, added a few more words of
salutary advice which he might carry on
his way, puffed and blew still faster, and
finally disappeared in a cloud of smoke,
which smelled of genuine Dutch canaster,
and, slowly curling upwards, vanished
amidst the tops of the pines.
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 45

On his arrival home, Peter found his
mother in great anxiety about him, for the
good dame thought in reality her son had
been drawn among the recruits. He, how-
ever, was in great glee and full of hope, and
related to her how he had met with a good
friend in the forest, who had advanced him
money to begin another trade. Although
his mother had been living for thirty years
in a charcoal-burner’s hut, and was as much
accustomed to the sight of sooty people
as any millers wife is to the floury face of
her husband, yet, as soon as her Peter
showed her a more splendid lot, she was
vain enough to despise her former condition,
and said: ‘In truth, as the mother of a
man who possesses a glass manufactory, I
shall indeed be something different from
neighbour Kate and Betsy, and shall in
future sit more consequentially at church
among the people of quality. Her son
soon came to terms with the heir of the
glass manufactory. He kept the workmen
he found, and made them work day and night
at manufacturing glass. At first he was
pleased well enough with his new trade; he
was in the habit of walking leisurely into the
factory, striding up and down with an air
of consequence and with his hands in his
pockets, looking now in one corner, now in
another, and talking about various things at
which his workmen often used to laugh
46 STORIES FROM HAUFF

heartily. His chief delight, however, was
to see the glass blown, when he would often
set to work himself, and form the strangest
figures of the soft mass: But he soon took
a dislike to the work ; first he came only for
an hour in the day, then only every other
day, and finally only once a week, so that
his workmen did just what they liked. All
this came from his frequenting the public-
house. The Sunday after he had come
back from the Tannenbiihl he went to the
public-house, and who should be jumping
there already but the king of the dancing-
room ; fat Hezekiel also was already sitting
by a quart pot, playing at dice for crown-
pieces. Now Peter quickly put his hand
into his pocket to feel whether the Little
Glass Man had been true to his word, and
lo! his pockets were stuffed full of silver
and gold. He also felt an itching and
twitching in his legs, as if they wished to
dance and caper. When the first dance
was over, he took his place with his partner
at the top next to the king of the dancing-
room; and if the latter jumped three feet
high, Peter jumped four; if he made fan-
tastic and graceful steps, Peter twined and
twisted his legs in such a manner that all
the spectators were utterly amazed with
delight and admiration. But when it was
rumoured in the dancing-room that Peter
had bought a glass manufactory, and when
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 47

people saw that Peter, as often as he passed
the musicians, threw a six-biatzner piece to
them, there was no end of astonishment.
Some thought he had found a treasure in
the forest, others were of opinion that he
had succeeded to some fortune, but all
respected him now, and considered him a
made man, simply because he had plenty
of money. Indeed that very evening he
lost twenty florins at play, and yet his
pockets jingled and tingled as if there were
a hundred thalers in them.

When Peter saw how much respected he
was, he could no longer contain himself with
joy and pride. He threw away handfuls of
money and distributed it profusely among
the poor, knowing full well as he did how
poverty had formerly pinched him. The
feats of the king of the dancing-room were
completely eclipsed by those of the new
dancer, and Peter was surnamed the ‘em-
peror of the dancing-room.’ The most
daring gamblers did not stake so much as
he did on a Sunday, neither did they, how-
ever, lose so much; but then, the more he
lost, the more he won. This was exactly
what he had demanded from the Little Glass
Man; for he had wished he might always
have as much money in his pocket as fat
Hezekiel, and it was to this very man he
lost his money. If he lost twenty or thirty
florins at a stroke, they were immediately
48 STORIES FROM HAUFF

replaced in his own pocket, as soon as
Hezekiel pocketed them. By degrees he
carried his revelling and gambling further
than the worst fellows in the Schwarzwald,
and he was oftener called ‘gambling Peter’
than ‘emperor of the dancing-room,’ since
he now gambled almost all days of the week.
In consequence of his imprudence, his glass
manufactory gradually fell off He had
manufactured as much as ever could be
made, but he had failed to purchase, together
with the factory, the secret of disposing of it
most profitably. At length it accumulated
to such a degree that he did not know what
to do with it, and sold it for half price to
itinerant dealers in order to pay his work-
men.

Walking homewards one evening from the
public-house, he could not, in spite of the
quantity of wine he had drunk to make him-
self merry, help thinking with terror and
grief of the decline of his fortune. While
engaged in these reflections, he all at once
perceived some one walking by his side. He
looked round, and behold it was the Little
Glass Man. At the sight of him he fell into
a violent passion, protested solemnly, and
swore that the little man was the cause of
all his misfortune. ‘What am I to do now
with the horse and chaise ?’ he cried; ‘of
what use is the manufactory and all the glass
tome? Even when I was merely a wretched
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 49

charcoal-burner, I lived more happily, and
had no cares. Now I know not when the
bailiff may come to value my goods and
chattels, and seize all for debt.’

‘Indeed ?? replied the Little Glass Man,
‘indeed? I am then the cause of your
being unfortunate. Is that your gratitude
for my benefits? Who bade you wish so
foolishly? A glass manufacturer you wished
to be, and you did not know where to sell
your glass! Did I not tell you to be cautious
in what you wished for? Common sense,
Peter, and prudence, you wanted.’

‘A fig for your sense and prudence,’ cried
Peter ; ‘I am as shrewd a fellow as any one,
and will prove it to you, Littlé Glass Man,’
seizing him rudely by the collar as he spoke
these words, and crying, ‘Have I now got
you, Schatzhauser? Now I will tell you
my third wish, which you shall grant me.
'll have instantly, on the spot, two hundred
thousand hard thalers and a house. Woe is
me!’ he cried, suddenly shaking his hand,
for the little man of the wood had changed
himself into réd-hot glass, and burned in his
hand like bright fire. Nothing more was to
be seen of him.

For several days his swollen hand re-
minded him of his ingratitude and folly.
Soon, however, he silenced his conscience,
saying: ‘Should they sell my glass, manu-
factory and all, still fat Hezekiel is certain

E
50 STORIES FROM HAUFF

to me; and as long as he has money on a
Sunday, I cannot want.’

‘Very true, Peter! But, if he has none?’
And so it happened one day, and it proved
a singular example in arithmetic. For he
came one Sunday in his chaise to the inn,
and at once all the people popped their heads
out of the windows, one saying, ‘There
comes gambling Peter;’ a second saying,
‘Yes, there is the emperor of the dancing-
room, the wealthy glass manufacturer ;’? while
a third shook his head, saying, ‘It is all very
well with his wealth, but people talk a great
deal about his debts, and somebody in town
has said that the bailiff will not wait much
longer before he distrains upon him.’

At this moment the wealthy Peter saluted
the guests at the windows in a haughty and
grave manner, descended from his chaise,
and cried: ‘Good evening, mine Host of the
Sun. Is fat Hezekiel here ?’

To this question a deep voice answered
from within: ‘Only come in, Peter; your
place is kept for you; we are all here at the
cards already.’

Peter entering the parlour, immediately
put his hand into his pocket, and perceived,
by its being quite full, that Hezekiel must be
plentifully supplied. He sat down at the
table among the others and played, losing
and winning alternately; thus they kept
playing till night, when all sober people went


THE LITTLE GLASS MAN st

home. After having continued for some
time by candle-light, two of the gamblers
said: ‘Now it is enough, and we must go
home to our wives and children.’

But Peter challenged Hezekiel to remain,
The latter was unwilling, but said, after a
while, ‘Be it as you wish; I will count my
money, and then we'll play dice at five florins
the stake, for anything lower is, after all, but
child’s play.’ He drew his purse, and, after
counting, found he had a hundred florins
left ; now Peter knew how much he himself
had left, without counting first. But if
Hezekiel had won before, he now lost stake
after stake, and swore most awfully. If he
cast a pasch, Peter immediately cast one
likewise, and always two points higher. At_
length he put down the last five florins on
the table, saying, ‘Once more; and if I lose
this stake also, yet I will not leave off; you
will then lend me some of the money you
have won now, Peter; one honest fellow
helps the other.’

‘As much as you like, even if it were a
hundred florins,’ replied Peter, joyful at his
gain, and fat Hezekiel rattled the dice and
threw up fifteen; ‘Pasch!’ he exclaimed,
‘now well see!’ But Peter threw up
eighteen, and, at this moment, a hoarse,
well-known voice said behind him, ‘So! that
was the last.’

He looked round, and behind him stood
52 "STORIES FROM HAUFF

the gigantic figure of Michel the Dutchman.
’ Terrified, he dropped the money he had
already taken up. But fat Hezekiel, not
seeing Michel, demanded that Peter should
advance him ten florins for playing. As if
in a dream, Peter hastily put his hand into
his pocket, but there was no money; he
searched in the other pocket, but in vain;
he turned his coat inside out, not a farthing,
however, fell out ; and at this instant he first
recollected his first wish, viz. to have always
as much money in his pocket as fat Hezekiel.
All had now vanished like smoke.

The host and Hezekiel looked at him with
astonishment as he still searched for and
could not find his money; they would not
believe that he had no more left; but when
they at length searched his pockets, without
finding anything, they were enraged, swearing
that gambling Peter was an evil wizard, and
had wished away all the money he had won
home to his own house. Peter defended
himself stoutly, but appearances were against
him. Hezekiel protested he would tell this
shocking story to all the people in the
Schwarzwald, and the host vowed he would
the following morning early go into the town
and inform against Peter as a sorcerer, adding
that he had no doubt of his being burnt alive.
Upon this they fell furiously upon him, tore
off his coat, and kicked him out of doors. #

Not one star was twinkling in the sky to
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 53

lighten Peter’s way as he sneaked sadly
towards his home, but still he could distinctly
recognise a dark form striding by his side,
which at length said, ‘It is all over with
you, Peter Munk; all your splendour is at
an end, and this I could have foretold you
even at the time when you ‘would not listen
to me, but rather ran to the silly glass dwarf.
You now see to what you have come by dis-
regarding my advice. But try your fortune
with me this time, I have compassion on
your fate. No one ever yet repented of
applying to me, and if you don’t mind the
walk to the Tannenbiihl, I shall be there all
day to-morrow and you may speak to me, if
you will call.’ Peter now very clearly per-
ceived who was speaking to him, but feeling
a sensation of awe, he made no answer and
ran towards home.

When, on the Monday morning, he
came to his factory, he not only found his
workmen, but also other people whom no
one likes to see, viz. the bailiff and three
beadles. The bailiff wished Peter good
morning, asked him how he had slept, and
then took from his pocket a long list of
Peter’s ‘creditors, saying, with a stern look,
‘Can you pay or not? Be short, for I have
no time to lose, and you know it is full three
leagues to the prison’ Peter in despair con-
fessed he had nothing left, telling the bailiff
he might value all the premises, horses and
54 STORIES FROM HAUFF

carts. But while they went about examining
and valuing the things, Peter said to him-
self, ‘Well, it is but a short way to the
Tannenbiihl, and as the “¢//e man has not
helped me, I will now for once try the dig
man.’ He ran towards the Tannenbiihl as
fast as if the beadles were at his heels. On
passing the spot where the Little Glass Man
had first spoken to him, he felt as if an
invisible hand were stopping him, but he
tore himself away,and ran onwards till he
came to the boundary which he had well
marked. Scarcely had he, quite out of
breath, called ‘Dutch Michel, Mr. Dutch
Michel !’ when suddenly the gigantic rafts-
man with his pole stood before him.

‘Have you come then?’ said the latter,
laughing. ‘Were they going to fleece you

“and sell you to your creditors? Well, be
easy, all your sorrow comes, as I have always
said, from the Little Glass Man, the Separa-
tist and Pietist. When one gives, one ought
to give right plentifully and not like that
skinflint. But come,’ he continued, turning
towards the forest, ‘follow me to my house,
there we'll see whether we can strike a
bargain.’

‘Strike a bargain?’ thought Peter.
‘What can he want of me, what can I sell to
him? Am I perhaps to serve him, or what
is it that he can want?’ They went at first
uphill over a steep forest path, when all at
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 55

once they stopped at a dark, deep, and
almost perpendicular ravine. Michel leaped
down as easily as he would go down marble
steps ; but Peter almost fell into a fit when
he saw him below, rising up like a church
steeple, reaching him an arm as long as a
scaffolding pole, with a hand at the end as
broad as the table in the ale-house, and
calling in a voice which sounded like the
deep tones of a death bell, ‘Set yourself
boldly on my hand, hold fast by the fingers
and you will not fall off.’ Peter, trembling,
did as he was ordered, sat down upon his
hand and held himself fast by the thumb of
the giant.

They now went down a long way and
very deep, yet, to Peter’s astonishment, it
did not grow darker; on the contrary, the
daylight seemed rather to increase in the
chasm, and it was some time before Peter’s
eyes could bear it. Michel’s stature became
smaller as Peter came lower down, and he
stood now in his former size before a house
just like those of the wealthy peasants of the
Schwarzwald. The room into which Peter
was led differed in nothing but its appearance
of solitariness from those of other people.
The wooden clock, the stove of Dutch tiles,
the broad benches and utensils on the shelves -
were the same as anywhere else. Michel
told him to sit down at the large table, then
went out of the room and returned with a
56 STORIES FROM HAUFF

pitcher of wine and glasses. Having filled
these, they now began a conversation, and
Dutch Michel expatiated on the pleasures of
the world, talked of foreign countries, fine
cities and rivers, so that Peter, at length,
feeling a yearning after such sights, candidly
told Michel his wish.

‘If you had courage and strength in your
body to undertake anything, could a few
palpitations of your stupid heart make you
tremble; and the offences against honour,
or misfortunes, why should a rational fellow
care for either? Did you feel it in your
. head when they but lately called you a cheat
and a scoundrel? Or did it give youa pain
in your stomach, when the bailiff came to
eject you from your house? Tell me, where
was it you felt pain ??

‘In my heart,’ replied Peter, putting his
hand on his beating breast, for he felt as if
his heart was anxiously turning within him.

‘Excuse me for saying so, but you have
thrown away many hundred florins on vile
beggars and other rabble; what has it pro-
fited you? They have wished you blessings
and health for it; well, have you grown the
healthier for that? For half that money
you might have kept a physician. A bless-
ing, a fine blessing, forsooth, when one is
distrained upon and ejected! And what
was it that urged you put your hand into
your pocket, as often as a beggar held out
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 57

his broken hat ?—-Why your heart again,
and ever your heart, neither your eyes, nor
your tongue, nor your arms, nor your legs,
but your heart; you have, as the proverb
truly says, taken too much to heart.’

‘But how can we accustom ourselves to
act otherwise? I take, at this moment,
every possible pains to suppress it, and yet
my heart palpitates and pains me.’

‘You, indeed, poor fellow!’ cried Michel,
laughing ; ‘you can do nothing against it;
but give me this scarcely palpitating thing,
and you will see how comfortable you will
then feel.’

‘ My heart to you?’ cried Peter, horrified.
‘Why, then, I must die on the spot!
Never !’

‘Yes, if one of your surgeons would operate
upon you and take out your heart, you must
indeed die; but with me it is a different
thing; just come in here and convince
yourself.’

Rising at these words, he opened the door
of a chamber and took Peterin. On stepping
over the threshold, his heart contracted con-
vulsively, but he minded it not, for the sight
that presented itself was singular and sur-
prising. On several shelves glasses were
standing, filled with a transparent liquid,
and each contained a heart. All were
labelled with names which Peter read with
curiosity ; there was the heart of the bailiff
58 STORIES FROM HAUFF

in F., that of fat Hezekiel, that of the king
of the dancing-room, that of the ranger;
there were the hearts of six usurious corn
merchants, of eight recruiting officers, of
three money-brokers; in short, it was a
collection of the most respectable hearts
twenty leagues around.

‘Look!’ said Dutch Michel, ‘all these
have shaken off the anxieties and cares of
life; none of these hearts any longer beat
anxiously and uneasily, and their former
owners feel happy now they have got rid of
the troublesome guest.’

‘But what do they now carry in their
breasts instead ?’ asked Peter, whose head
was nearly swimming at what he be-
held.

‘ This, replied he, taking out of a small
drawer, and presenting to him—a heart of
stone.

‘Indeed !’ said Peter, who could not pre-
vent a cold shuddering coming over him.
‘A heart of marble? But, tell me, Mr.
Michel, such a heart must be very cold in
one’s breast.’

‘True, but very agreeably cool. Why
should a heart be warm? For in winter its
warmth is of little use, and good strong
Kirschwasser does more than a warm heart,
and in summer when all is hot and sultry,
you can’t think how cooling such a heart is.
And, as before said, such a heart feels neither
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 59

anxiety nor terror, neither foolish compassion
nor other grief.’

‘And that is all you can offer me?’ asked
Peter indignantly ; ‘I looked for money and
you are going to give me a stone,’

‘Well! an hundred thousand florins,
methinks, would suffice you for the present.
If you employ it properly, you may soon
make it a million,’

‘An hundred thousand!’ exclaimed the
poor coal-burner, joyfully. ‘Well, don’t
beat so vehemently in my bosom, we shall
soon have done with one another. Agreed,
Michel, give me the stone and the money,
and the alarum you may take out of its case.’

‘I always thought you were a reasonable
fellow,’ replied Michel, with a friendly smile ;
‘come, let us drink another glass, and then
I will pay you the money.’

They went back to the room and sat down
again to the wine, drinking one glass after
another till Peter fell into a profound sleep.

He was awakened by the cheerful blast
of a post-boy’s bugle, and found himself
sitting ina handsome carriage, driving along
on a wide road. On putting his head out
he saw in the airy distance the Schwarzwald
lying behind him. At first he could scarcely
believe that it was his own self sitting in the
carriage, for even his clothes were different
from those he had worn the day before; but
still he had such a distinct recollection that,
60 STORIES FROM HAUFF

giving up at length all these reflections, he
exclaimed, ‘I am Peter and no other, that
is certain.’

He was astonished that he could not, in the
-Slightest degree, feel melancholy now that
he for the first time departed from his quiet
home and the forests where he had lived so
long. He could not even press a tear out
of his eyes or utter a sigh, when he thought
of his mother, who must now feel helpless
and wretched; for he was indifferent to
everything: ‘Well,’ he said, ‘tears and
sighs, yearning for home and sadness, pro-
ceed indeed from the heart, but thanks to
Dutch Michel, mine is of stone and cold.’
Putting his hand upon his breast, he felt all
quiet and no emotion. ‘If Michel,’ said he,
beginning to search the carriage, ‘keeps his
word as well with respect.to the hundred
thousand florins as he does with the heart,
I shall be very glad.’ In his search he
found articles of dress of every description
he could wish, but no money. At length,
however, he discovered a pocket containing
many thousand thalers in gold, and bills on
large houses in all the great cities. ‘Now
I have what I want,’ thought he, squeezed
himself into the corner of the carriage and
went into the wide world.

For two years he travelled about in the
world, looked from his carriage to the right
and left up the houses, but whenever he
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 6r

alighted he looked at nothing except the
sign of the hotel, and then ran about the
town to see the finest curiosities. But
nothing gladdened him, no pictures, no
building, no music, no dancing, nor any-
thing else had any interest for, or excited
his stone heart; his eyes and ears were
blunted for everything beautiful. No en-
joyment was left him but that which he felt
in eating and drinking and sleep; and thus
he lived running through the world without
any object, eating for amusement and sleep-
ing from exnuz. From time to time he
indeed remembered that he had been more
cheerful and happier, when he was poor and
obliged to work for a livelihood. Then he
was delighted by every beautiful prospect in
the valley, by music and song, then he had
for hours looked in joyful expectation towards
the frugal meal which his mother was to
bring him to the kiln.

When thus reflecting on the past, it seemed
very strange to him that now he could not
even laugh, while formerly he had laughed
at the slightest joke. When others laughed,
he only distorted his mouth out of politeness,
but his heart did not sympathise with the
smile. He felt he was indeed exceedingly
tranquil, but yet not contented. It was not
a yearning after home, nor was it sadness,
but a void, desolate feeling, satiety and a joy-
less life that at last urged him to his home.
62 STORIES FROM HAUFF

When, after leaving Strasburg, he beheld
the dark forest of his native country; when
for the first time he again saw the robust
figures, the friendly and open countenances
of the Schwarzwalder; when the homely,
strong, and deep, but harmonious sounds
struck upon his ear, he quickly put his hand
upon his heart, for his blood flowed faster,
thinking he must rejoice and weep at the
same time ; but how could he be so foolish?
he had a heart of stone, and stones are dead
and can neither smile nor weep.

His first walk was to Michel, who received
him with his former kindness. ‘ Michel,’
said he, ‘I have now travelled and seen
everything, but all is dull stuff and I have
only found exmuz. The stone I carry about
with me in my breast, protects me against
many things; I never get angry, am never
sad, but neither do I ever feel joyful, and it
seems as if I were only half alive. Can you
not infuse a little more life into my stone
heart, or rather, give me back my former
heart? During five-and-twenty years I had
become quite accustomed to it, and though
it sometimes did a foolish thing, yet it was,
after all, a merry and cheerful heart.’

The sylvan spirit laughed grimly and sar-
castically at this, answering, ‘When once
you are dead, Peter Munk, it shall not be
withheld ; then you shall have back your
soft, susceptible heart, and may then feel
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 63

whatever comes, whether joy or sorrow.
But here, on this side of the grave, it can
never be yours again. Travelled you have
indeed, Peter, but in the way you lived, your
travelling could afford you no satisfaction.
Settle now somewhere in the world, build a
house, marry, and employ your capital; you
wanted nothing but occupation ; being idle,
you felt ev7z, and now you lay all the blame
on this innocent heart.’ Peter saw that
Michel was right with respect to idleness,
and therefore proposed to himself to become
richer and richer. Michel gave him another
hundred thousand florins, and they parted
good friends.

The report soon spread in the Schwarzwald
that Coal Peter,’ or ‘gambling Peter,’ had
returned, and was much richer than before.
It was here as it is always. When he was
a beggar he was kicked out of the inn, but
now he had come back wealthy, all shook
him by the hand when he entered on the
Sunday afternoon, praised his horse, asked
about his journey, and when he began play-
ing for hard dollars with fat Hezekiel, he
stood as high in their estimation as ever
before. He no longer followed the trade of
glass manufacturer, but the timber trade,
though that only in appearance, his chief
business being in corn and money trans-
actions, Half the people of the Schwarzwald
became by degrees his debtors, and he lent
64 STORIES FROM HAUFF

money only at Io per cent, or sold corn to
the poor, who, not being able to pay ready
money, had to purchase it at three times its
value. With the bailiff he now stood on a
footing of the closest friendship, and if any
one failed paying Mr. Peter Munk on the
very day the money was due, the bailiff with
his beadles came, valued house and property,
sold all instantly, and drove father, mother,
and child out into the forest.. This became
at first rather troublesome to Peter, for the
poor outcasts besieged his doors in troops,
the men imploring indulgence, the women
trying to move his stony heart, and the
children moaning for a piece of bread. But
getting a couple of large mastiffs, he soon
put an end to this cat’s music, as he used to
call it, for he whistled and set them on the .
beggars,. who dispersed screaming. But the
most troublesome person to him was ‘the
old woman,’ who, however, was no other
than Frau Munk, Peter’s mother. She had
been reduced to great poverty and distress,
when her house and all was sold, and her
son, on returning wealthy, had troubled
himself no more about her. So she came
sometimes before his house, supporting her-
self on a stick, as she was aged, weak, and
infirm ; but she no more ventured to go in,
as he had on one occasion driven her out ;
and she was much grieved at being obliged
to prolong her existence by the bounties of
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 65°

other people, while her own son might have
prepared for her a comfortable old age. But
his cold heart never was moved by the sight
of the pale face and well-known features, by
her imploring looks, outstretched withered
hands, and decaying frame. If ona Saturday
she knocked at the door, he put his hand
grumbling into his pocket for a six-batzen
piece, wrapped it in a bit of paper, and sent
it out bya servant. He heard her tremulous
voice when she thanked him, and wished
him a blessing in this world, he heard her
crawl away coughing from the door, but he
thought of nothing except that he had again
spent six batzen for nothing.

At length Peter took it into his head to
marry. He knew that every father in the
Schwarzwald would gladly give him his
daughter, but he was fastidious in his choice,
for he wished that everybody should praise
his good fortune and understanding in
matrimony as well as in other matters. He
therefore rode about the whole forest, look-
ing out in every direction, but none of the
pretty Schwarzwalder girls seemed beautiful
enough for him. Having finally looked out
in vain for the most beautiful at all the
dancing-rooms, he was one day told the
most beautiful and most virtuous girl in the
whole forest was the daughter of a poor
wood-cutter. He heard she lived quiet and
retired, was industrious and managed her

F
66 STORIES FROM HAUFF

father’s household well, and that she was
never seen at a dancing-room, not even at
Whitsuntide or the Kirchweihfest.1 When
Peter heard of this wonder of the Schwarz-
wald, he determined to court her, and,
having inquired where the hut was, rode
there. The father of the beautiful Eliza-
beth received the great gentleman with
astonishment, but was still more amazed
when he heard it was the rich Herr Peter
who wished to become his son-in-law.
Thinking all his cares and poverty would
now be at an end, he did not hesitate long
in giving his consent, without even asking
the beautiful Elizabeth, and the good child
was so dutiful that she became Frau Peter
Munk without opposition.

But the poor girl did not find the happi-
ness she had dreamt of. She believed she
understood the management of a house well,
but she could never give satisfaction to Herr
Peter ; she had compassion on poor people,
and, as her husband was wealthy, thought it
no sin to give a poor woman a penny, or a
dram to a poor aged man. This being one
day found out by Peter, he said to her, with
angry look and gruff voice, ‘Why do you
waste my property upon ragamuffins and
vagabonds? Have you brought anything of
your own to the house that you can give

1 A great festival in German villages, which comes
in October or November.
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 67

away? With your father’s beggar’s staff
you could not warm a soup, and you lavish
my money like a princess. Once more let
me find you out, and you shall feel my hand.’
The beautiful Elizabeth wept in her chamber
over the hard heart of her husband, and
often wished herself at home in her father’s
poor hut rather than with the rich, but
avaricious and sinful Peter. Alas! had she
known that he had a heart of marble and
could neither love her nor anybody else, she
would not, perhaps, have wondered. But as
often as a beggar now passed while she was
sitting before the door, and drawing his hat
off, asked for alms, she shut her eyes that
she might not behold his distress, and closed
her hand tight that she might not put it
involuntarily in her pocket and take out a
kreutzer. This caused a report and obtained
an ill name for Elizabeth in the whole forest,
and she was said to be even more miserly
than Peter Munk. But one day Frau Eliza-
beth was again sitting before the door spin-
ning and humming an air, for she was cheer-
ful because it was fine weather, and Peter
was taking a ride in the country, when a
little old man came along the road, carrying
a large heavy bag, and she heard him pant-
ing at a great distance. Sympathisingly she
looked at him and thought how cruel it was
to place such a heavy burden upon an aged
man.
68 STORIES FROM HAUFF

In ,the meanwhile the little man came
near, tottering and panting, and sank under
the weight of his bag almost down on the
ground just as he came opposite Frau Eliza-
beth.

‘Oh, have compassion on me, good
woman, and give me a drink of water,’ said
the little man; ‘I can go no farther, and
must perish from exhaustion.’

‘But you ought not to carry such heavy
loads at your age,’ said she.

‘No more I should if I were not obliged
to work as carrier from poverty and to pro-
long my life,” replied he. ‘Ah, such rich
ladies as you know not how painful poverty
is, and how strengthening a fresh draught
would be in this hot weather.’

On hearing this she immediately ran into
the house, took a pitcher from the shelf and
filled it with water; but she had only gone
a few paces back to take it to him, when,
seeing the little man sit on his bag miserable
and wretched, she felt pity for him, and
recollecting that her husband was from home,
she put down the pitcher, took a cup, filled
it with wine, put a loaf of rye bread on it,
and gave it to the poor old man. ‘There,’
she said, ‘a draught of wine will do you
more good than water, as you are very old ;
but do not drink so hastily, and eat some
bread with it.’

The little man looked at her in astonish-
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 69

ment till the big tears came into his eyes ;
he drank and said, ‘I have grown old, but
have seen few people who were so compas-
sionate and knew how to spend their gifts.so
handsomely and cordially as you do, Frau
Elizabeth. But you will be blessed for it on
earth; such a heart will not remain un-
requited.,’

‘No, and she shall have her reward on
the spot,’ cried a terrible voice, and looking
round they found it was Herr Peter, with a
face as red as scarlet. ‘Even my choicest
wine you waste upon beggars, and give my
own cup to the lips of vagabonds? ‘There,
take your reward.’ His wife fell prostrate
before him and begged his forgiveness, but
the heart of stone knew no pity, and flourish-
ing the whip he held in his hand, he struck
her with the ebony handle on her beautiful
forehead with such vehemence that she sank
lifeless into the arms of the old man. When
he saw what he had done it was almost as
if he repented of the deed immediately ; he
stooped to see whether there was yet life
in her, but the little man said in a well-
known voice, ‘Spare your trouble, Peter ;
she was the most beautiful and lovely
flower in the Schwarzwald, but you have
crushed it and never again will see it
bloom,’

Now the blood fled from Peter’s cheek
and he said, ‘It is you, then, Mr. Schatz-
70 STORIES FROM HAUIFF

hauser ? well, what is done is done then, and
I suppose this was to happen. But I trust
you will not inform against me.’

‘Wretch,’ replied the Little Glass Man,
‘what would it profit me if I brought your
mortal part to the gallows? It is not
earthly tribunals you have to fear, but
another and more severe one; for you have
sold your soul to the evil one’

‘And if I have sold my heart,’ cried Peter,
‘it is no one’s fault but yours and your
deceitful treasures’; your malicious spirit
brought me to ruin; you forced me to seek
help from another, and upon you lies the
whole responsibility. He had scarcely
uttered these words when the little man grew
enormously tall and broad, his eyes it is
said became as large as soup plates, and his
mouth like a heated furnace vomiting flames.
Peter fell upon his knees, and his stone heart
did not protect his limbs from trembling like
an aspen leaf. The sylvan spirit seized him,
as if with vultures’ claws, by the nape of the
neck, whirled him round as the storm whirls
the dry leaves, and dashed him to the ground
so that his ribs cracked within him. ‘You
worm of dust,’ he cried, in a voice roaring
like thunder, ‘I could crush you if I wished,
for you have trespassed against the lord of
the forest; but for the sake of this dead
woman that fed and refreshed me, I give you
a week’s respite, If you do not repent I
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 71

shall return and crush your bones, and you
will go hence in your sins.’

It was already evening when some men
passing by saw the wealthy Peter Munk
lying on the ground. They turned him over
and over to see whether there was still life
in him, but for a long time looked in vain.
At length one of them went into the house,
fetched some water and sprinkled some on
his face. Peter fetched a deep sigh and
opened his eyes, looked for a long time
around, and asked for his wife Elizabeth, but
no one had seen her. He thanked the men
for their assistance, crawled into his house,
searched everywhere, but in vain, and found
what he imagined to be a dream a sad
reality. As he was now quite alone strange
thoughts came into his mind; he did not
indeed fear anything, for his heart was quite
cold ; but when he thought of the death of
his wife his own forcibly came to his mind,
and he reflected how laden he should go
hence—heavily laden with the tears of the
poor; with thousands of the curses of those
who could not soften his heart; with the
lamentations of the wretched on whom he
had set his dogs; with the silent despair of
his mother; with the blood of the beautiful
and good Elizabeth; and yet he could not
even so much as give an account of her to
her poor old father, should he come and ask,
‘Where is my daughter, your wife?? How
72 STORIES FROM HAUFF

then could he give an account to Him—to
Him to whom belong all woods, all lakes, all
mountains, and the life of men ?

This tormented him in his dreams at night,
and he was awoke every moment by a sweet
voice crying to him, ‘Peter, get a warmer
heart!’ And when he was awoke he quickly
closed his eyes again, for the voice uttering
this warning to him could be none other but
that of his Elizabeth. The following day he
went into the inn to divert his thoughts, and
there met his friend, fat Hezekiel. He sat
down by him and they commenced talking
on various topics, of the fine weather, of war,
of taxes, and lastly, also of death, and how
such and such a person had died suddenly.
Now Peter asked him what he thought
about death, and how it would be after
death, Hezekiel replied, ‘That the body
was buried, but that the soul went either up
to heaven or down to hell.’

‘Then the heart also is buried?’ asked
Peter, anxiously.

‘To be sure that also is buried.’

‘But supposing one has no longer a heart ?’
continued Peter.

Hezekiel gave him a terrible look at these
words. ‘What do you mean by that? Do
you wish to rally me? Think you I have
no heart ?’

‘Oh, heart enough, as firm as stone,’
replied Peter.
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 73

Hezekiel looked in astonishment at him,
glancing round at the same time to see
whether they were overheard, and then said,
‘Whence do you know that? Or does your
own perhaps no longer beat within your
breast ?’

‘It beats no longer, at least, not in my
breast,’ replied Peter Munk. ‘But tell me,
as you know what I mean, how will it be
with our hearts ?’

‘Why does that concern you, my
good fellow ?? answered Hezekiel, laughing.
‘Why, you have plenty here upon earth,
and that is sufficient. Indeed, the comfort
of our cold hearts is that no fear at such
thoughts befalls us.’

‘Very true, but still one cannot help
thinking of it, and though I know no fear
now, still I well remember how I was terri-
fied at hell when yet an innocent little boy.’

‘Well, it will not exactly go well with us,’
said Hezekiel ; ‘I once asked a schoolmaster
about it, who told me that the hearts are
weighed after death to ascertain the weight
of their sins. The light ones rise, the heavy
sink, and methinks our stone hearts will
weigh heavy enough.’

‘Alas, true, replied Peter; ‘I often feel
uncomfortable that my heart is so devoid of
sympathy, and so indifferent when I think
of such things.’ So ended their conversation.

But the following night Peter again heard
74 STORIES FROM HAUFF

the well-known voice whispering into his ear
five or six times, ‘Peter, get a warmer heart!’
He felt no repentance at having killed his
wife, but when he told the servants that she
had gone ona journey, he always thought
within himself, where is she gone to? Six
days had thus passed away, and he still
heard the voice at night, and still thought of
the sylvan spirit and his terrible menace ;
but on the seventh morning he jumped up
from his couch and cried, ‘ Well, then, I will
see whether I can get a warmer heart, for
the cold stone in my breast makes my life
only tedious and desolate.’ He quickly put
on his best dress, mounted his horse, and
rode towards the Tannenbiihl.

Having arrived at that part where the
trees stand thickest, he dismounted, and
went with a quick pace towards the summit
of the hill, and as he stood before the thick
pine he repeated the following verse :

‘ Keeper of wealth in the forest of pine,
Hundreds of years are surely thine :
Thine is the tall pine’s dwelling-place—
Those born on Sunday see thy face.’

The Little Glass Man appeared, not
looking friendly and kindly as formerly, but
gloomy and sad; he wore a little coat of
black glass, and a long glass crape hung
floating from his hat, and Peter well knew
for whom he mourned.
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 75

‘What do you want with me, Peter Munk?’
asked he with a stern voice.

‘I have one more wish, Mr. Schatzhauser,’
replied Peter, with his eyes cast down.

‘Can hearts of stone still wish?’ said the
former. ‘You have all your corrupt mind
can need, and I could scarcely fulfil your
wish.’

‘But you have promised to grant me
three wishes, and one I have still left.’

‘I can refuse it if it is foolish,’ continued
the spirit ; ‘but come, let me hear what you
wish.’

‘Well, take the dead stone out of me, and
give me a living heart,’ said Peter.

‘ Have I made the bargain about the heart
with you?’ asked the Little Glass Man.
‘Am I the Dutch Michel, who gives wealth
and cold hearts? It is of him you must
seek to regain your heart.’

‘Alas! he will never give it back,’ said
Peter.

‘Bad as you are, yet I feel pity for you,’
continued the little man, after some con-
sideration ; ‘and as your wish is not foolish,
I cannot at least refuse my help. Hear
then. You can never recover your heart by
force, only by stratagem, but probably you
will find it without difficulty; for Michel will
ever be stupid Michel, although he fancies
himself very shrewd. Go straightway to
him, and do as I tell you’ He now in-
76 STORIES FROM HAUFF

structed Peter fully, and gave him a small
cross of pure glass, saying, ‘He cannot
touch your life and will let you go when you
hold this before him and repeat a prayer.
When you have obtained your wish return
to me.’

Peter took the cross, impressed all the
words on his memory, and started on his
way to the Dutchman Michel’s residence ;
there he called his name three times and
immediately the giant stood before him.

‘You have slain your wife?’ he asked,
with a grim laugh. ‘I should have done
the same; she wasted your property on
beggars ; but you will be obliged to leave
the country for some time; and I suppose
you want money and have come to get it ?’

‘You have hit it,’ replied Peter; ‘and
pray let it be a large sum, for it is a long
way to America.’

Michel leading the way, they went into
his cottage; there he opened a chest con-
taining much money and took out whole
rolls of gold. While he was counting it on
the table Peter said, ‘You're a wag, Michel.
You have told me a fib, saying that I had a
stone in my breast, and that you had my
heart.’

‘And is it not so then?’ asked Michel,
astonished. ‘Do you feel your heart? Is
it not cold as ice? Have you any fear or
sorrow? Do you repent of anything ??
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 77

‘You have only made my heart to cease
beating, but I still have it in my breast, and
so has Hezekiel, who told me you had
deceived us both. You are not the man
who, unperceived and without danger, could
tear the heart from the breast; it would
require witchcraft on your part.’

‘But I assure you,’ cried Michel angrily,
‘you and Hezekiel and all the rich people,
who have sold themselves to me, have hearts
as cold as yours, and their real hearts I have
here in my chamber.’

‘Ah! how glibly you can tell lies,’ said
Peter, laughing; ‘you must tell that to
another to be believed; think you I have not
seen such tricks by dozens in my journeys?
Your hearts in the chamber are made of wax;
you're a rich fellow I grant, but you are no

-magician!

Now the giant was enraged and burst open
the chamber door, saying, ‘Come in and
read all the labels, and look yonder is Peter
Munk’s heart; do you see how it writhes ?
Can that too be of wax?’

‘For all that, it is of wax,’ replied Peter.
‘A genuine heart does not writhe like that.
I have mine still in my breast. No! you
are no magician.’

‘But I will prove it to you,’ cried the
former angrily. ‘You shall feel that it is
your heart. He took it, opened Peter’s
waistcoat, took the stone from his breast, and
78 STORIES FROM HAUFF

held it up. Then taking the heart, he
breathed on it, and set it carefully in its
proper place, and immediately Peter felt how
it beat, and could rejoice again. ‘How do
you feel now ?’ asked Michel, smiling.

‘True enough, you were right,’ replied
Peter, taking carefully the little cross from
his pocket. ‘I should never have believed
such things could be done.’

‘You see I know something of witchcraft,
doI not? But, come, I will now replace the
stone again,’

‘Gently, Herr Michel,’ cried Peter, step-
ping backwards, and holding up the cross,
‘mice are caught with bacon, and this time
you have been deceived,’ and immediately
he began to repeat the prayers that came
into his mind,

Now Michel became less and less, fell to
the ground, and writhed like a worm, groan-
ing and moaning, and all the hearts round
began to beat, and became convulsed, so
hat it sounded like a clock-maker’s workshop.

Peter was terrified, his mind was quite
disturbed ; he ran from the house, and,
urged by the anguish of the moment, climbed
up a steep rock, for he heard Michel get up,
stamping and raving, and denouncing curses
on him. When he reached the top, he
ran towards the Tannenbiihl; a dreadful
thunderstorm came on; lightning flashed
around him, splitting the trees, but he
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 79

reached the precincts of the Little Glass Man
in safety.

His heart beat joyfully—only because it
did beat; but now he looked back with
horror on his past life, as he did on the
thunderstorm that was destroying the beauti-
ful forest on his right and left, He thought
of his wife, a beautiful, good woman, whom
he had murdered from avarice ; he appeared
to himself an outcast from mankind, and
wept bitterly as he reached the hill of the
Little Glass Man.

The Schatzhauser was sitting under a
pine-tree, and was smoking a small pipe ;
but he looked more serene than before.

‘Why do you weep, Peter?’ asked he;
‘have you not recovered your heart? Is
the cold one still in your breast ?’

‘Alas! sir, sighed Peter, ‘when I still
carried about with me the cold stony heart,
I never wept, my eyes were as dry as the
ground in July; but now my old heart will
almost break with what I have done, I
have driven my debtors to misery, set the
dogs on the sick and poor, and you yourself
know how my whip fell upon fer beautiful
forehead.’

‘Peter, you were a great sinner,’ said the
little man. ‘Money and idleness corrupted
you, until your heart turned to stone, and no
longer knew joy, sorrow, repentance, or
compassion. But repentance reconciles ;
80 STORIES FROM HAUFF

and if I only knew that you were truly sorry
for your past life, it might yet be in my
power to do something for you.’

‘I wish nothing more,’ replied Peter,
dropping his head sorrowfully. ‘It is all
over with me, I can no more rejoice in my
lifetime ; what shall I do thus alone in the
world? My mother will never pardon me
for what I have done to her, and I have
perhaps brought her to the grave, monster
that I am! Elizabeth, my wife, too,—
rather strike me dead, Herr Schatzhauser,
then my wretched life will end at once.’

‘ Well,’ replied the little man, ‘if you wish
nothing else, you can have it, so my axe is
at hand.’ He quietly took his pipe from
his mouth, knocked the ashes out, and put
it into his pocket. Then rising slowly, he
went behind the pines. But Peter sat down
weeping in the grass ; his life had no longer
any value for him, and he patiently awaited
the deadly blow. After a short time he
heard gentle steps behind him, and thought,
‘ Now he is coming.’

_ Look up once more, Peter Munk,’ cried
the little man. He wiped the tears from his
eyes and looked up, and beheld his mother,
and Elizabeth his wife, who kindly gazed on
him. Then he jumped up joyfully, saying,
‘You are not dead, then, Elizabeth, nor you,
mother; and have you forgiven me ?’

_¢They will forgive you,’ said the Little
THE LITTLE GLASS MAN 81

Glass Man, ‘because you feel true repent-
ance, and all shall be forgotten. Go home
now, to your father’s hut, and be a charcoal-
burner as before; if you are active and
honest, you will do credit to your trade, and
your neighbours will love and esteem you
more than if you possessed ten tons of gold,’
Thus saying, the Little Glass Man left them.
The three praised and blessed him, and
went home.

The splendid house of wealthy Peter stood
no longer; it was struck by lightning, and
burnt to the ground, with all its treasures.
But they were not far from his father’s hut,
and thither they went, without caring much
for their great loss. But what was their
surprise when they reached the hut; it was
changed into a handsome farmhouse, and all
in it was simple, but good and cleanly.

‘This is the Little Glass Man’s doing,’
cried Peter.

‘How. beautiful 1? said” Frau Elizabeth;

‘and here I feel more at home than in the
larger house, with many servants.’
Henceforth Peter Munk became an in-
dustrious and honest man. He was content
with what he had, carried on his trade
cheerfully, and thus it was that he became
wealthy by his own energy, and respected
and beloved in the whole forest. He no
longer quarrelled with his wife, he honoured
his mother, and relieved the poor who came
G
82 STORIES FROM HAUFF

to his door. When, after twelve months,
Frau Elizabeth presented him with a beauti-
ful little boy, Peter went to the Tannenbiihl,
and repeated the verse as before. But the
Little Glass Man did not show himself.

‘Mr. Schatzhauser,’ he cried loudly, ‘only
listen to me. I wish nothing but to ask you
to stand godfather to my little son.’ But he
received no answer, and only a short gust
of wind rushed through the pines, and cast
a few cones on the grass.

‘Then I will take these as a remembrance,
as you will not show yourself, cried Peter,
and he put them in his pocket, and returned
home. But when he took off his jacket, and
his mother turned out the pockets before
putting it away, four large rolls of money
fell out ; and when they opened them, they
found them all good and new Baden dollars,
and not one counterfeit, and these were the
intended godfather’s gift for little Peter, from
the little man in the Tannenbiihl. Thus
they lived on, quietly and cheerfully; and
many a time Peter Munk, when gray-headed,
would say, ‘It is indeed better to be content
with little, than to have wealth and a cold
heart.’ CA. F.






THE STORY OF THE CALIPH
STORK

This story is from the collection called The Caravan,
and is told by the traveller Selim,

SW)HE Caliph Chasid of Bagdad was
sitting one fine summer afternoon
comfortably on his divan; he had

: slept a little, for it was a sultry
day, and he looked quite refreshed after his
nap. He smoked a long rosewood pipe,
sipped now and then a little coffee which a
slave poured out for him, and stroked his
beard contentedly whenever he had enjoyed
it. In short, it could be seen at a glance
that the Caliph felt very comfortable. At
such a time it was easy to approach him, as
he was very good-tempered and affable,
wherefore his Grand Vizier Mansor visited
him every day about this time. This after-
noon he came as usual, looking, however,
very grave, a rare thing for him. The
Caliph took the pipe out of his mouth and


84 STORIES FROM HAUFF

said: ‘Why dost thou make so grave a face,
Grand Vizier?’ The Grand Vizier folded
his arms across his breast, bowed to his
master and answered: ‘ Master! whether I
assume a grave appearance I know not, but
down below in the palace stands a pedlar
who has such fine wares that it vexes me
that I have no money to spare.’

The Caliph, who had long desired to
rejoice the heart of his Grand Vizier, ordered
his black slave to fetch the pedlar. Ina few
moments the slave returned with him. He
was a stout little man, swarthy in the face,
and dressed in rags. He carried a box in
which he had all sorts of wares, pearls,
and rings, pistols with richly inlaid stocks,
goblets, and combs, The Caliph and his
Vizier inspected everything, and the Caliph
at last bought for himself and Vizier a pair of
pistols, and for the Vizier’s wife acomb. As
the pedlar was about to close his box again,
the Caliph caught sight. of a little drawer,
and asked whether it also contained some
wares. The pedlar pulled out the drawer,
and exhibited a snuff-box containing a black
powder and a piece of paper with peculiar
writing on it, which neither the Caliph nor
Mansor could read. ‘These things were
given to me one day by a merchant who
found them in the streets of Mecca,’ said
the pedlar. ‘I know not what they are; but
you may have them for a small sum, for they
THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK 85

are of no use to me.’ The Caliph, who was
very fond of having old manuscripts in his
library, though unable to read them, bought
both paper and box and dismissed the pedlar.
Still he thought he would like to know what
the writing meant, and asked the Vizier if
he did not know anybody who might de-
cipher it. ‘ Most gracious lord and master,’
answered the latter, ‘near the Great Mosque
lives a man called Selim the learned; he
knows all languages. Send for him; per-
haps he can explain these mysterious signs.’

The learned Selim soon arrived. ‘Selim,’
said the Caliph to him, ‘Selim, it is said
thou art very learned. Just look at this
writing whether thou canst read it; if thou
canst read it, thou gettest a new robe of
honour from me; if thou canst not, thou
gettest twelve boxes on the ears and twenty-
five lashes on the soles of thy feet, for
having been called Selim the learned with-
out cause.’ Selim bowed and said: ‘Thy
will be done, O Master!’ For a long time
he looked at the writing; suddenly, how-
ever, he exclaimed: ‘That is Latin, O
Master, or let me be hung!’ ‘Say what it
means,’ demanded the Caliph, ‘if it is
Latin.’

Selim began to translate: ‘Man who
findeth this, praise Allah for his goodness.
He who takes a pinch of this powder in this
box and therewith says ‘‘Mutabor,” can
86 STORIES FROM HAUFF

change himself into any animal, and also
understand the language of animals. If he
afterwards wish to resume his human form,
let him bow thrice to the East and say the
same word. But beware when thou art
changed that thou laughest not, or the
magic word will depart from thy memory
for ever, and thou remainest a beast.’

When Selim the learned had read this,
the Caliph was pleased beyond measure.
He made the learned man swear not to
reveal the secret to any one, presented him
with a splendid robe, and dismissed him.
Then turning to his Grand Vizier he said:
‘This I call making a bargain, Mansor!
How glad I am at being able to become an
animal! Come to me to-morrow morning.
We will then go together into the fields,
take a pinch out of the box, and then listen
to what is said in the air and the water, in
wood and field.’

Next morning, scarcely had the Caliph
Chasid breakfasted and dressed himself,
when the Grand Vizier appeared as ordered,
to accompany him on his walk. The Caliph
put the box with the magic powder in his
girdle, and having ordered his suite to
remain behind, he and the Grand Vizier
set out alone on the journey. They first
passed through the large gardens of the
Caliph, but looked in vain for any living
thing on which to try the experiment. The
THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK 87

Vizier at last proposed to pursue their
journey to a pond, where he had often seen
many animals, especially storks, whose
grave manners and clappings had always
excited his attention.

The Caliph approved of the Vizier’s pro-
posal, and went with him towards the pond.
Having arrived there, they saw a stork
soberly pacing up and down looking for
frogs, and chattering something now and
then to itself. At the same moment they
saw far up in the sky another stork hovering
in this direction.

‘I wager my beard, most gracious
Master,’ said the Grand Vizier, ‘this long-
legged pair are now having a pleasant talk,
How would it be if we turned into storks?’

‘Wisely spoken,’ replied the Caliph.
‘But first, let us consider how we may be-
come men again. It is easy enough! If
we bow thrice to the East, and say Muta-
bor, I shall be Caliph and thou Vizier.
But for heaven’s sake no laughing, or we
are lost.’

While the Caliph spoke thus, he saw the
other stork hovering over their heads, and
slowly alighting on the ground. Quickly
he snatched the box from his girdle, took a
hearty pinch, gave the box to the Grand
Vizier, who did the like, and both exclaimed
‘ Mutabor !’

Then their legs shrivelled and became
88 STORIES FROM HAUFF

thin and red, the beautiful yellow slippers
of the Caliph and those of his Vizier changed
into ugly storks’ feet, their arms grew into
wings, their necks shot up from their
shoulders and reached a yard in length,
their beards vanished, and soft feathers
covered their bodies,

s*You have a pretty beak, Mr. Grand
Vizier, said the Caliph after a surprised
silence. ‘By the beard of the Prophet, I
have never seen such things in my life!’
‘Thanks humbly,’ replied the Vizier, bow-
ing; ‘but if I might dare say so, I should
avow that your Highness looks almost hand-
somer as astork thana Caliph. But come, if
it pleases you, let us listen to our comrades
yonder and hear if we really speak
storkish.’

Meanwhile the other stork had reached
the ground. It cleaned its feet with its beak,
settled its feathers, and walked up to the
first stork. The two new storks hastened
to get near them, and to their surprise heard
the following conversation: ‘Good morning,
Madam Longlegs! You are early on the
meadows.’ ‘Thank you, dear Clapper-beak !
I have been to get a little breakfast. Would
you like to have a quarter of a lizard or a
little leg of a frog?’ ‘Much obliged; but
I have no appetite this morning. Besides,
I have come upon quite a different errand
on the meadow. I am to dance before my
THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK 89

father’s guests to-day, and I want to prac-
tise a little quietly.’

Thereupon the young stork began to caper
about the field in peculiar movements. The
Caliph and Mansor watched her, very much
surprised. But when she stood on one leg
in a picturesque attitude, and fluttered her
wings to increase the effect, neither of them
could resist ; laughter without stopping burst
from their beaks, from which they only
recovered a long time afterwards. The
Caliph was the first to recover self-posses-
sion: ‘That was a joke,’ hé exclaimed,
‘which cannot be bought for gold. What
a pity the stupid animals should have been
scared by our laughter, else they would also
have sung, to be sure !’

But now it occurred to the Grand Vizier
that laughing during the enchantment was
forbidden. He therefore communicated his
fears to the Caliph. ‘By Mecca and Medina,
that would be a bad joke if I were to remain
a stork! Do bethink thee of the stupid
word ; I cannot recall it.’

‘Three times we must bow to the East and
say: Mu—Mu—Mu.’

They turned towards the East and kept on
bowing continually till their beaks nearly
touched the ground. But, alas! the magic
word had escaped them, and often as the
Caliph bowed, and eagerly as his Vizier
added Mu—Mu—, yet every recollection of
go STORIES FROM HAUFF

it had gone, and the poor Chasid and his
Vizier were storks, and remained so.

Sadly the enchanted ones wandered
through the fields, not knowing what to do
in their misery. They could not discard
their stork-plumage, nor could they return
into the town and make themselves known,
for who would have believed that a stork
was the Caliph? and even if one-had be-
lieved it, would the inhabitants of Bagdad
accept a stork for a Caliph?

Thus they wandered about for several
days, living miserably on the fruits of the
field, which they could not swallow very
well on account of their long beaks. As for
lizards and frogs, their stomachs could not
relish such food; besides, they were afraid
of spoiling their appetite with such tit-bits.
Their only pleasure in their sad situation
was that they could fly, and thus they flew
often to the high roofs of Bagdad to see
what was going on in the town.

During the first days they remarked great
uneasiness and grief in the streets. But on
the fourth day of their enchantment, while
sitting on the roof of the Caliph’s palace,
they saw down in the street below a splendid
array. The drums and fifes played; a man
dressed in a gold-embroidered _ scarlet
mantle rode a richly-caparisoned horse,
surrounded by a gaudy train of servants.
Half Bagdad rushed about him, and every-
THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK 91

body shouted: ‘Hail, Mizra! the ruler of
Bagdad !’

Then the two storks upon the roof of the
palace looked at each other, and the Caliph
Chasid said: ‘Dost thou guess now why I
am enchanted, Grand Vizier? This Mizra
is the son of my mortal enemy, the mighty
Magician Kaschnur, who in an evil hour
swore revenge on me. But still I do not
despair. Come with me, thou faithful com-
panion of my misery; we will betake our-
selves to the grave of the Prophet ; perhaps
at that sacred shrine the magic may be
dispelled.’

They rose from the roof of the palace and
flew towards Medina.

They did not succeed very well in flying,
for as yet they had had very little practice.
‘O Master !’, sighed the Grand Vizier after
a couple of hours’ flight, ‘with your leave
I can hold out no longer, you fly too swiftly
for me! Besides, it is dark already, and
we should do well to seek shelter for the
night.’

Chasid listened to the request of his ser-
vant ; and seeing beneath them in the valley
some ruins which promised a lodging, they
flew towards it. The place where they had
settled for the night seemed formerly to
have been a castle. Splendid pillars rose
from among the ruins; several chambers
which were still tolerably preserved testified
92 STORIES FROM HAUFF

to the bygone splendour of the building.
Chasid and his companion strolled through
the passages in search of some dry nook,
when suddenly the stork Mansor stopped.
‘Lord and Master, he whispered below
his breath, ‘is it not foolish for a Grand
Vizier, and still more so for a stork to fear ~
ghosts? Still, I feel very uneasy, for close
by some one sighed and groaned quite
distinctly.’ The Caliph now also stopped,
and heard quite plainly a low sob, which
seemed rather to come from a man than an
animal. Full of anxiety, he wanted to go
towards the spot whence proceeded the
sound of sorrow; but the Vizier seized him
by the wing with his beak and begged him
not to rush upon new and unknown perils.
But all was of no avail. The Caliph, who
bore a brave heart beneath his stork plum-
age, tore himself away with the loss of some
feathers, and ran towards a gloomy passage.
Soon he came to a door which was ajar, and
behind which he heard distinct sighs and
moans. He pushed open the door with
his beak, but stopped on the threshold in
astonishment. Inthe ruined chamber, which
was only dimly lighted by a little iron-
barred window, he saw a great night-owl
sitting on the ground. Heavy tears rolled
out of its large round eyes, and with a
hoarse voice it uttered its moans from its
hooked beak, But when it saw the Caliph
THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK 93

and his Vizier, who had come up in the
meantime, it gave a loud cry of joy.
Elegantly it wiped the tears from its eye
with its brown-flecked wings, and to the
great amazement of both, it cried in good
human Arabic: ‘Welcome, ye storks; you
are a good omen to me of my deliverance,
for through storks I am to be lucky, as it
was once foretold me.’

When the Caliph had recovered from his
astonishment, he bowed with his long neck,
set his thin legs in a graceful position, and
said: ‘Night-owl! from thy words I believe
that I see a fellow-sufferer, But alas! thy
hope of deliverance through us is in vain.
Thou wilt recognise our helplessness in hear-
ing our tale’ The night-owl begged him
to relate it, and the Caliph commenced to
relate what we already know.

When the Caliph had related his story
to the owl she thanked him, and said:
‘Now also listen to my tale, and learn how
I am no less unlucky than you are yourself.
My father is the king of the Indies ; I, his
only unhappy daughter, am called Lusa.
That Magician Kaschnur, who has enchanted
you, has also brought misfortune upon me.
One day he came to my father and asked
me in marriage for his son Mizra. But my
father, who is a fiery man, had him thrown
downstairs. The wretch knew how to
approach me again under another shape,
94 STORIES FROM HAUFF

and one day, while I was taking some re-
freshments in my garden, he administered
to me, disguised as a slave, a draught, which
changed me into this hideous shape. Faint-
ing from fear, he brought me hither and
shouted with a terrible voice into my ear:
“ Here shalt thou remain, detestable, ab-
horred even by beast, to thy end, or till
one of free will, himself in this horrid form,
asks thee to be his wife. And thus I
revenge myself on thee and on thy haughty
father.”

‘Since then many months have passed.
Lonely and sadly I live as a recluse within
these ruins, shunned by the world, a scare-
crow even to beasts: beautiful nature is
hidden from me, for I am blind by daylight,
and only when the moon pours her wan
light over these ruins does the obscuring
veil drop from my eyes.’

When the owl had finished she again
wiped her eyes with her wings, for the story
of her woes had moved her to tears.

The Caliph, by the story of the Princess,
was plunged into deep thought. ‘If I am
not mistaken,’ said he, ‘there is between
our misfortunes a secret connection; but
where can I find the key to this riddle?’
The owl answered him: ‘O Master! such
is also my belief; for once in my infancy a
wise woman foretold that a stork should
bring me a great fortune, and I know one
THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK 95

way by which perhaps we may free our-
selves. The Caliph was very much sur-
prised, and asked what way she meant.
‘The enchanter who has made us_ both
unhappy,’ said she, ‘comes once every
month to these ruins. Not far from here
is a hall where he holds orgies with numer-
ous companions. Often have I spied them
there. They then relate to one another
their vile deeds. Perhaps he may pronounce
the magic word which you have forgotten.’
‘O dearest Princess,’ exclaimed the Caliph,
‘say when comes he, and where is the
hall ??

The owl was silent a moment, and then
said: ‘You must not take it ill, but only on
one condition can I fulfil your wish.’ ‘Speak
out, speak out,’ cried Chasid. ‘Command
all, everything of me’

‘It is this, that I may also become free,
which can only be if one of you offer me his
hand.’

The stork seemed somewhat taken aback
at this proposition, and the Caliph beckoned
to his servant to go out with him a
little.

‘Grand Vizier,’ said the Caliph outside,
‘this is a sorry bargain, but you might take
her.’ ‘Indeed !’ answered the Grand Vizier;
‘that my wife when I come home may
scratch out my eyes? Besides, I am an
old man, while you are still young and
96 STORIES FROM HAUFF

single, and could better give your hand to
a young and fair Princess,’

‘That is just it, sighed the Caliph, whilst
sadly drooping his wings. ‘Who then has
told thee that she is young and fair? It
is buying a pig in a poke.’

They consulted one with the other for a
long time. At last when the Caliph saw
that his Vizier would rather remain a stork
than wed the owl, he resolved to fulfil the
condition himself. The owl was immensely
pleased. She confessed to them that they
could not have come at a more favourable
time, for the enchanters were very likely to
assemble that night.

She quitted the chamber with the storks
to lead them to the hall. They went a long
way through a gloomy passage; at length,
through ‘a half-fallen wall, gleamed a bright
light. Having arrived there, the owl ad-
vised them to remain perfectly quiet. They
could, through the gap near which they
stood, overlook a great hall. It was sup-
ported all round by pillars, and splendidly
decked. Many brilliant coloured lamps re-
placed the light of day. In the centre of
the hall was a round table, covered with
many and choice meats. Round this table
was a couch, on which sat eight men. In
one of these men the stork recognised the
pedlar who had sold them the magic powder.
His neighbour asked him to relate his latest
THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK 97

deeds. Amongst others he also related the
story of the Caliph and his Vizier.

‘What sort of word hast thou given them ??
asked another enchanter. ‘A very difficult
Latin one, namely, ‘“‘ Mutabor.”’

When the storks heard this at their hole
in the wall they were nearly beside them-
selves with joy. They ran on their long
legs so quickly to the threshold of the ruins
that the owl could hardly follow them. There
the Caliph addressed the owl with emotion :
‘Deliverer of my life and of the life of my
friend, accept me in eternal gratitude for thy
spouse for that which thou hast done for us.’
He then turned to the East. Thrice the
storks bowed their long necks to the sun,
which just then was rising behind the moun-
tains. ‘Mutabor!’ they exclaimed; and
straightway they were changed, and in the
great joy of their new-sent life master and
servant fell into each other’s arms laughing
and crying. But who can describe their
astonishment on turning round? A lovely
lady, grandly dressed, stood before them.
Smiling, she gave her hand to the Caliph.
‘Do you no longer recognise your night-
owl?’ she said. It was she. The Caliph
was so charmed with her beauty and grace
that he exclaimed: ‘My greatest fortune
was that of having been a stork.’

The three now travelled together towards
Bagdad. The Caliph found in his clothes

H
98 STORIES FROM HAUFF

not only the box with the magic powder,
but also his purse. He therefore bought in
the nearest village what was needful for
their journey, and so they soon came to the
gates of Bagdad. There the arrival of the
Caliph caused much surprise. People had
believed him dead, and they therefore were
highly pleased to have again their beloved
ruler.

All the more, however, burned their hatred
towards the impostor Mizra. They entered
the palace, and took prisoner the old enchanter
and his son. The Caliph sent the old man
to the same chamber in the ruins that the
Princess had lived in when an owl, and had
him hanged there. To the son, who knew
nothing of his father’s art, the Caliph gave
the choice whether he would die or take snuff.
And when he chose the latter, the Grand
Vizier handed him the box. A good strong
pinch and the magic word of the Caliph
changed him into a stork. The Caliph had
him shut up in an iron cage and placed in
his garden,

Long and happy lived the Caliph Chasid
with his wife the Princess. His most pleasant
hours were always those when the Grand
Vizier visited him during the afternoon, when
they very frequently spoke of their stork
adventures, and when the Caliph was very
jovial he amused himself with imitating the
Grand Vizier when he was a stork. He
THE STORY OF THE CALIPH STORK 99

strutted up and down the chamber with stiff
legs, clapped, fluttered his arms as though
they were wings, and showed how vainly the
latter had turned to the East crying all the
while Mu—Mu. This entertainment was at
all times a great pleasure to Madam Caliph
and her children ; but when the Caliph kept
on clapping a little too long, and nodded, and
cried Mu—Mu, then the Vizier threatened
him, smiling, that he would communicate to
Madam Caliph what had been discussed
outside the door of the Night Owl Princess.


THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK

This story is from the same collection, and is told
by Muley, a merry young merchant.

py NGQHERE lived at Nicea, my dear
i native town, a man named Little
« Muck. I can still remember
4 him very well, although I was
very young then, especially as I once received
from my father a sound thrashing for his
sake. Little Muck was already an old man
when I knew him, and only three or four
feet high. He presented a most extraordin-
ary appearance, and although his body was
stunted and thin, yet he had a head which
was much larger and thicker than that of
other people. He lived quite alone in a
large house, and acted as his own cook;
people, moreover, in the town would never
have known whether he was alive or dead,
for he only went out once a month, were it
not that at mid-day a powerful steam arose



‘THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK 01

from his house ; but he was often seen during
the evening walking up and down his roof,
and people in the street thought that his
immense head only promenaded on the roof.
My playmates and myself were wicked
youngsters, always ready enough to mock
people and laugh at them, and whenever
Little Muck came out it was a holiday for
us. On the day he went out we met before
his house, waiting for his appearance. When
the door opened, and his immense head,
together with a much larger turban, peeped
out, followed by his little body, dressed in
a shabby little cloak, wide trousers, and a
broad girdle, to which was attached a long
dagger of such an immense size that people
did not know whether Muck was fastened to
the dagger or the dagger to him—when he
came out, the air resounded with our loud
cries of joy; we threw up our caps into the
air and danced like maniacs round about
him. Little Muck, nevertheless, bowed to
us with a grave and dignified air, and
marched down the street with slow steps,
dragging his feet as he walked, for he wore
such large and broad slippers as I had never
seen before.

We boys ran after him always shouting:
‘Little Muck! Little Muck!’ We had also
made a little rhyme about him which we
sang in honour of him now and then,
namely :
102 STORIES FROM HAUFF

‘Little Muck, Little Muck,
What an awful fright you look !
In a big house you reside,
Only once a month outside.
You.are a plucky dwarf, but still
Your head is almost like a hill ;
Do but just turn round and look,
Run and catch us, Little Muck!’

We had often played this joke, and I must
confess to my shame mine was the worst.
I often pulled him by his cloak, and once
I planted my foot on the end of his great
slippers from behind, so that he fell down.
This at first caused me great delight, but I
soon ceased to laugh when I saw Little
Muck go towards my father’s house. He
really entered it, and remained in it for some
time. I secreted myself behind the door
and saw Little Muck come out again, accom-
panied by my father, who held him respect-
fully by the hand, and took leave of him at
the door, after many bows. I felt very
uneasy, and remained for a long time in my
hiding-place; but at length hunger, which I
dreaded still more than the thrashing, forced
me to come out, and, shame-faced and with
bent head, I presented myself before my
father. ‘I hear you have insulted the good
Muck ?? he said in a very stern voice. ‘I
want to tell you the history of this Muck,
and I am certain you will never mock him
again; in any case, however, before or after,
you will get your punishment.’ This punish-


7 yr Z a,
Aon awash diauwng by fare Pryde

/ hear you have insulted the good Muck" he
sard in avery stern voice (page 102)
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK 103

ment meant twenty-five strokes, which he
counted with only too great an exactness.
He took his long pipe, screwed off the amber
mouth-piece, and acquitted himself more
vigorously of the task than he had ever done
before.

After having received the five-and-twenty
strokes, my father ordered me to pay atten-
tion, and related to me the story of Little
Muck,

The father of Little Muck, whose real
name was Mukrah, was a distinguished but
poor man here in Nicea, He, too, lived in
almost as solitary a manner as his son does
at present. Unfortunately, he did not like
him, because his dwarfed stature made him
ashamed of the boy, and consequently he
had him brought up in ignorance. Little
Muck, when in his sixteenth year, was still
a frolicsome child; and his father, a stern
man, continually reproached him with still
being so childish, and also on account of his
ignorance and stupidity.

The old man, however, had a bad fall one
day, in consequence of which he died, leaving
behind little Muck, poor and ignorant. His
harsh relatives, to whom the deceased owed
more than he was able to pay, turned the
poor little fellow out of the house, and ad-
vised him to go abroad to seek his fortune.
Little Muck said that he was already pre-
pared for the journey ; and only asked to be
Io04 STORIES FROM HAUFF

allowed to take his father’s clothes with him,
to which they agreed. His father had been
a tall, powerful man, and therefore his
clothes did not fit him. Muck, however,
soon devised an expedient; he cut off all
that was superfluous with respect to length,
and then donned the garments. He seemed,
however, to have forgotten the curtailing of
them in their amplitude, hence his whimsical
attire, which he wears to this day; the large
turban, the broad girdle, the wide trousers,
the little blue cloak, all these are heirlooms
of his father, which he has always worn ; his
father’s long Damascus dagger he planted
in his girdle, and with a little staff in his
hand, he set out on his journey.

Joyfully he walked along all day, for he
had set out to seek his fortune. If he saw
a bit of broken glass on the road glittering
in the sunshine, he would put it into his
pocket, really believing it would turn into
the most beautiful diamond. If he saw in
the distance the glittering cupolas of a
mosque, or the sea smooth as glass, he
would hasten towards it joyously, thinking
he had arrived in some enchanted country.
But alas! These phantoms disappeared as
he approached them, and only too soon did
his fatigue and the complaints of his hungry
stomach remind him that he was still in the
land of mortals.

Thus he had travelled for two days,
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK 10g

hungry, weary, and in despair, endeavouring
to seek his fortune; the fruits of the field
were his only food, the hard earth his couch.
On the morning of the third day he per-
ceived from the top of a hill a large town.
The Crescent glittered upon the cupolas,
coloured banners floated upon the roofs,
seeming to beckon Little Muck to come
to them. He stood still a moment quite
surprised, looking upon the town and its
environs. ‘Yes, that is the place where
Little Muck will make his fortune,’ he said
to himself; and notwithstanding his weari-
ness he stepped forward, ‘there or nowhere.’
He summoned up all his strength and strode
towards the city. But although it appeared
so close, he did not reach it till mid-day, for
his little legs almost entirely refused their
office, so that he was obliged to sit down
frequently under the shade of a palm-tree to
take rest. At length he reached his destina-
tion. He arranged his little cloak, improved
the position of his turban, broadened his
girdle still more, and planted his long dagger
in a still more oblique position; he then
wiped the dust from his shoes, armed him-
self with his little staff, and bravely entered
the city.

He had already strolled through many
streets, but nowhere a door opened
to him, nowhere people called out to
him as he had imagined: ‘Little Muck,
106 STORIES FROM HAUFF

come in, eat and drink, and rest your tiny
legs.’

He was again looking up very longingly
before a large and beautiful house, when a
window opened, an old woman looked out
of it, and exclaimed in a singing voice :

“Come on, come on,
The broth is done ;
Laid is the cloth,
Enjoy the broth ;
Neighbours come,
The broth is done,’

The door of the house opened, and Muck
saw many dogs and cats go into the house.
He remained for some moments in a state
of uncertainty, as to whether he should
respond to the invitation; at length, how-
ever, he summoned up sufficient courage
and entered the house. Before him trotted
a pair of young cats. He determined to
follow them, because they might know the
way to the kitchen better than he.

When Muck had reached the top of the
stairs, he met the old woman who had
looked out of the window. She looked at
him sulkily, and demanded of him what he
wanted. ‘I have heard you inviting every-
body to your feast,’ answered little Muck,
‘and as I am terribly hungry I have come
as well” The old woman laughed and
said: ‘Where do you come from, you
strange creature? The whole town knows
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK 107

that I cook for nobody except my dear
cats, and now and again I invite company
from the neighbourhood for them, as you
see.’ Little Muck related to the old woman
how badly he had fared after his father’s
death, and entreated her to allow him to
feast this day with her cats. The woman,
who seemed pleased at the unaffected story
of the little man, allowed him to be her
guest, and gave him plenty to eat and
drink. After having regaled himself, the
woman looked at him for a long time and
then said: ‘Little Muck, remain in my
service, you will have little to do and plenty
to eat.’ Little Muck, who seemed to have
enjoyed the cats’ broth, agreed, and thus
became Madam Ahavzi’s servant. His
work was light but strange. Lady Ahavzi
owned two cats and four kittens. Little
Muck had to brush their fur and anoint
them with precious ointment every morning ;
if their mistress was absent, he had to take
care of them; at their meals he had to
wait upon them, and at night put them
upon silk cushions and wrap them up in
velvet coverlets.

There were besides some little dogs in
the house which he also had to wait upon,
but not so much attention was bestowed
upon these as upon the cats, who were
treated like Lady Ahavzi’s own children.
Altogether, Muck now lived almost as
108 STORIES FROM HAUFF

solitarily as when he was in his late father’s
house; for, with the exception of his mistress,
he only saw, during the whole day, cats
and dogs. For a short time little Muck
fared very well, he had always plenty to
eat and little to do, and the old woman
seemed to be quite satisfied with him ; but
by degrees the cats became troublesome ;
whenever the old lady was out they bounded
about the room like mad, setting everything
pell-mell, and breaking many valuable vases
which stood in their way. But when they
heard their mistress coming up the stairs
they crept up to their cushions, wagging
their little tails to welcome her as if nothing
had occurred. Lady Ahavzi then became
angry on seeing her rooms in such a dis-
ordered state, blaming Muck for it; and
however much he might protest his in-
nocence, she had more confidence in her
cats, which looked so innocent, than in her
own servant.

Little Muck was very sad that he had
not found his fortune here, and resolved to
quit the service of Madam Ahavzi. But
as he had discovered during his former
travels how difficult it was to live without
money, he determined to obtain his wages,
which his mistress had always promised,
but never given him, by some means or
other. In the house of Madam Ahavzi was
a chamber which was always locked, and
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK 109

the interior of which he had never seen.
He had, however, often heard the woman
making a noise in it, and for the life of him
he would have liked to know what she kept
hidden there. While thinking of his money
for travelling, it occurred to him that it
was probably there that Madam Ahavzi
kept her treasures. The door, however,
was always firmly locked, and he was un-
able therefore to get near them.

One morning, after Madam Ahavzi had
gone out, one of the little dogs which had
always been treated by her very badly, whose
favour, however, he had gained in a high
degree by showing it many acts of kindness,
pulled him by his full trousers, and made
signs to him as if to induce Muck to follow
him. Muck, who had always been fond of
playing with the little dog, followed it, and
behold, the little dog conducted him into
the bedroom of Madam Ahavzi, and to a
little door which he had never seen there
before. The door was ajar. The little dog
went in, Muck following it, and he was
agreeably surprised to find himself in the
room which had been so long the aim of his
wishes. He spied in every corner to see if
he could find any money, but all in vain.
Only old clothes and strangely-shaped vases
were lying about. One of these vases
especially attracted his attention. It was
of crystal, and beautiful figures were cut on
IIo STORIES FROM HAUFF

it. He took it up and turned it about on all
sides. But, oh terror! He had not noticed
that it had a cover which was only lightly
placed upon it. The cover dropped, and
broke into a thousand pieces.

For a long time Little Muck stood there
petrified with fear. His fate was now de-
cided, and nothing remained for him but to
run away, otherwise the old woman would
kill him. He immediately determined upon
going, but once more he looked round to
see if he could make use of some of Lady
Ahavzi’s property. His eyes fell on a mighty
pair of slippers. They were not very pretty,
but his own could not stand another journey.
They also attracted his attention on account
of their immense size, for if his feet were
once in them, all must plainly see that he
had discarded children’s boots. He quickly
took off his little slippers, and put on the
big ones. A pretty little staff with a lion’s
head carved on its top seemed also to be
standing idle in the corner, so taking posses-
sion of it, he hastened out of the room. He
then went quickly to his room, donned his
little cloak, put on his paternal turban,
planted the dagger in his girdle, and ran as
fast as his legs could carry him, out of the
house and the gates of the town.

Outside the town he kept on running,
being afraid of the old woman, until at last
he was overcome by fatigue. Never in all
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK 111

his life had he gone so fast, nay, it seemed
to him as if he could go on continually, for
some invisible power seemed to urge him
on. He perceived at last that his slippers
were under the influence of some charm, for
they kept on stepping forward, and dragging
him along. He tried by all sorts of means
to stand still, but all in vain. At last, being
in the greatest danger, he called out just as
if he were guiding horses: ‘Ho! ho! halt
ho!’ The slippers immediately pulled up,
and Muck threw himself exhausted on the
ground.

He was immensely pleased with the slip-
pers. After all, he had acquired something
by his work, which might assist him on his
way in the world, to make his fortune. In
spite of his joy he fell asleep from fatigue,
for the little body of Mr. Muck, which had
to carry such an enormous head, was not
very strong. In a dream the little dog
which had assisted him in obtaining the
slippers in Madam Ahavzi’s house appeared
to him and said: ‘Dear Muck, you do not
seem properly to understand the use of the
slippers: Learn, if you turn in them three
times on your heel, you can fly wherever
you like, and with the little cane you can
discover treasures: for wherever there is
gold buried it will strike the ground three
times, and where silver lies twice.’

Thus dreamt Little Muck. When he was
112 STORIES FROM HAUFF

awake he meditated upon the strange dream,
and soon resolved to make a trial. He put
on the slippers, lifted one foot in the air and
turned himself about on the other. Who-
ever has tried the feat of turning round thrice
successively in a slipper too large for him
will not be astonished at hearing that Little
Muck did not succeed very well in his first
attempt, especially if one takes into con-.
sideration that his enormous head sometimes
dragged him to the right and sometimes to
the left.

The poor little fellow fell several times
heavily on his nose; nevertheless he did
not allow himself to be discouraged from
repeating the experiment, and finally he suc-
ceeded. Like a wheel he turned round on
his heel, wishing himself to be transported
to the nearest large town, whereupon his
slippers lifted him up into the air, fled through
the clouds as if they had wings, and before
he could recover his senses he found him-
self in a large market-place, where many
booths were pitched, and where a number of
people were busily running to and fro. He
went about amongst the people, but found
it advisable to go into a more quiet street,
for in the market-place people put their feet
upon his slippers, which nearly made him
fall down; and further, his long dagger every
now and then pushed against some one or
other, so that he just escaped being beaten.
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK 113

Little Muck now began seriously to think
what he could do to earn some money.
Though he had a little staff indicating to
him hidden treasures, yet where could he
discover a place, on the spur of the moment,
where gold or silver was buried? He
might have exhibited himself in case of-
necessity, but he was too proud for that.
At length the quick movements of his limbs
occurred to him. ‘Perhaps,’ he thought,
‘my slippers may support me,’ and he re-
solved to offer his services as courier, think-
ing it possible that the King of this town
might remunerate him handsomely for such
services, and he inquired after the palace.
Near the gate of the palace stood a sentry,
who asked him what he wanted. He said
that he was looking for work, and was
shown to the overseer of the slaves. He
told the latter his request, and petitioned
him to find him a place amongst the royal
messengers. The overseer looked at him
from head to foot, and said: ‘What! you,
with your little limbs, which are scarcely a
span in length, wish to become a royal
messenger! Get away, I have no time for
joking with a fool.’

Little Muck, however, assured him that
he was quite in earnest with his offer, and
that he would venture a wager to outstrip
the swiftest runner. The affair seemed
very ridiculous to the overseer. He ordered

I
II4 STORIES FROM HAUFF

him to be prepared for a race in the even-
ing, took him into the kitchen, and took
care that he was supplied with plenty to
eat and drink. The overseer himself went
to the King, and told him about this little
man and his offer. The King, who was a
pleasant master, approved of the overseer
for having kept Little Muck for a joke. He
ordered him to make preparations on a
large meadow behind the palace in order
that the race might be conveniently seen by
his whole royal household, and finally told
him to look well after the dwarf. :

The King related. to the Princes and
Princesses what sort of an entertainment
they would have in the evening. The
latter told their servants of it, and as the
evening approached, all were in eager ex-
pectation; they hastened towards the
meadow, where scaffolds were erected, in
order to see the boasting dwarf run.

After the King, his sons and his daughters
had taken their seats, Little Muck ap-
peared upon the meadow, saluting the
assemblage with an extremely courteous
bow. General shouts of joy resounded on
the little man appearing ; such a figure had
never been seen there before. The little
man’s body with its immense head, his little
cloak and large trousers, the long dagger in
the broad girdle, his little feet in his
slippers: No! this was too funny a sight
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK IIS

for people not to laugh. Little Muck, how-
ever, did not allow himself to be abashed
by the laughter. He proudly took his
place, leaning on his little cane, and awaited
his adversary. The overseer of the slaves
had, at Muck’s request, selected the quickest
runner. The latter now came forward,
placing himself by the side of the little man,
and both waited for the signal. Then the
Princess Amarza, as had been arranged,
nodded from under her veil, and like two
arrows shot at the same target, the runners
rushed forward over the meadow.

At first Muck’s adversary had a decided
advantage, but the former on his slipper-
conveyance chased him, overtook him,
passed him, and reached the goal long
before the other came along gasping for
breath. The spectators were for some
moments stupefied with admiration and
astonishment, but when first the King ap-
plauded, then the whole multitude followed
his example, and all shouted :

‘Long live Little Muck, the winner of the
race |’ ;

In the meantime Little Muck had been
fetched. He prostrated himself before the
King, and said: ‘All powerful King, this is
merely a trifle of my art; and now conde-
scend to assign me a place amongst your
couriers.’ The King replied: ‘No, you
shall be my private runner, and always
116 STORIES FROM HAUFF

about me. You shall have for your salary
a hundred gold pieces annually, and you
shall dine with my chief courtiers.’

Muck now at last thought he had found
his fortune, which he had sought after for
so long a time, and rejoiced inwardly. He
also rejoiced at the special favour of the
King, for the latter employed him for the
quickest and most secret despatches, which
Little Muck executed with the greatest exacti-
tude, and with incomprehensible rapidity.

The other servants, however, were jealous
of him, because they thought themselves
lessened in the favour of their master,
through a dwarf, who understood nothing
else but running. Many conspiracies,
therefore, were plotted against him in order
to ruin him; but all failed, on account of
the great confidence which the King placed
in his chief private runner, for he had risen
to this dignity in a short time.

Muck, who was not blind to these intrigues,
did not think of avenging himself; he was
too noble-hearted for that. No, he rather
thought of some means by which he might
make himself indispensable, and liked by
his enemies. He then recollected his little
staff, which he had forgotten in his fortunate
circumstances; if he discovered treasures,
he thought, then perhaps his companions
might look upon him with a more favourable

eye.
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK 117

He had often been told that the father of
the present King had buried a great part of
his treasures at a time when the enemy
. invaded his country; it was also said that
he had died since, without having been
able to communicate his secret to his son.
Henceforward Muck always took his little
cane with him, hoping that some day he
might pass the place where the money of
the old King lay buried. One evening
chance led him to a lonely spot in the King’s
garden, a place which he little frequented,
when suddenly he felt his little cane jerking
in his hand, and striking the ground three
times. He was already aware what this
meant. He therefore drew his dagger,
notched the trees surrounding the place, and
returned to the castle: he now procured a
spade, and waited until nightfall for his
enterprise.

His searching for the treasures gave Little
Muck more trouble than he had expected.
His arms were very weak, his spade too
large and heavy, and he worked for more
than two hours before he had dug two feet
in depth. At length he struck against
something hard, which gave a metallic
sound. He now dug away more vigorously,
and soon succeeded in bringing to light a
large iron lid; he himself got into the hole
in order to discover what the lid might cover,
and he really found a large urn filled with
118 STORIES FROM HAUFF

gold pieces. His feeble powers, however,
were insufficient to lift the urn, and he
therefore put into his trousers and girdle as
much as he could carry ; he stuffed his little
cloak with as much as he could, and put it on
his back, having concealed the rest very care-
fully. But, as a matter of fact, if he had
not had his slippers on, he would not have
been able to proceed, so heavily the gold
weighed on him. Unobserved, he reached
his room, and there concealed his gold
underneath the cushions of his couch.

When Little Muck found himself the
owner of so much gold he thought matters
would now undergo a change, and that
he would gain amongst his enemies at court
many patrons and warm friends. Judging
from this, it was but too obvious that
Little Muck could not have received a very
careful education, otherwise he would not
have imagined that it was possible to gain
real friends with gold. Alas! he had much
better have greased his slippers then, and
made his escape with his little cloak filled
with gold as quickly as he could.

The gold which Little Muck now freely dis-
tributed excited the jealousy of the other
courtiers. The chief cook Ahuli said: ‘He
is a coiner.’ Achmet, the overseer of the
slaves, said: ‘ He has obtained it from the
King by talking.’ Archaz, the treasurer,
however, his bitterest enemy, who himself
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK 119

from time to time dipped into the King’s
cash-box, said openly: ‘He has stolen it.’
Now in order to make quite sure of their
affair, they plotted together, and the chief
cup-bearer Korchuz presented himself one
day very sad and downcast before the King.
He dissimulated in such a way that the
King asked him what was the matter with
him. ‘Alas!’ he answered, ‘I am sad for
having lost the grace of my master.’ ‘What
are you raving about, friend Korchuz?’ said
the King. ‘How long has the sunshine of
my favour ceased to fall on you?’ The chief
cup-bearer answered him that he had
lavished so much gold on his private chief
runner, and forgotten him, his poor and
faithful servant, altogether.

The King was much astonished at this
news, and caused little Muck’s distributions
of gold to be related to him, and the con-
spirators easily made him suspect that
Muck by some means or other had stolen
the money from the treasury. The trea-
surer was very pleased at this turn of
affairs, and besides, was reluctant to give an
account of the state of his books. The
King therefore ordered them to watch all
the movements of Little Muck, in order to
surprise him if possible in the act of steal-
ing. When, therefore, during the night fol-
lowing this fatal day, Little Muck took the
spade in order to go into the King’s garden
120 STORIES FROM HAUFF

to get a fresh supply from his secret trea-
sure, because he had exhausted his store
through his liberality, he was followed by
the sentries, headed by the chief cook
Ahuli and the treasurer Archaz; and just
as he was about to put the gold into his
little cloak they attacked him, bound him,
and brought him immediately before the
King. The latter, whose disturbed slumbers
had not put him in a very good humour,
received his poor chief private runner very
ungraciously, and examined him immedi-
ately. The pot had been dug completely
out of the ground, and with the spade, as
well as the little cloak filled with gold, had
been placed before the King. The treasurer
alleged that he had surprised Muck with
his sentinels at the moment when he had
buried this pot of gold in the ground.

The King questioned the accused as to
whether it was true, and where he had got
the gold which he had buried. Little Muck
assured him of his innocence, and said that
he had discovered this pot in the garden,
and that he was not going to bury it, but to
dig it out.

All present laughed at this excuse; the
King, however, greatly exasperated at the
barefaced impudence of the little man, ex-
claimed: ‘You wretch! ‘You dare to im-
pose on your King in such a gross fashion,
after having robbed him? Treasurer Archaz,
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK tat

I call upon you to say whether you
recognise this sum of gold as the same
which is missing from my treasury?’ The
treasurer said he was quite sure that so
much and still more had been missing for
some time from the royal treasury, and that
he was prepared to affirm it with an oath
that this was the stolen money.

Thereupon the King ordered Little Muck
to be put in heavy chains and taken to the
tower ; the gold he gave to the treasurer, in
order to restore it to the treasury. De-
lighted at the fortunate result of the affair,
he left, and counted the glittering gold
pieces at home; but the bad man never
announced that there had been at the
bottom of the pot a piece of paper on which
was written: ‘The enemy has inundated
my country, therefore I bury here part of
my treasures; whoever the finder may be
is cursed by the King if he does not im-
mediately deliver it up to my-son. King
Sadi’

Little Muck made sad reflections in his
prison ; he knew that death was the punish-
ment for stealing the King’s property, yet
he did not intend to reveal the secret of the
little staff to the King, fearing he should
be deprived of it as well as of his slippers.
His slippers could not assist him at all, for
he was chained close to a wall, and could
not, in spite of his endeavours, turn round
122 STORIES FROM HAUFF

on his heel. When, however, on the next
day he was informed that he had to die, he
thought it best after all to live without the
magic wand rather than die with it, so he
requested the King for a private interview,
and revealed to him the secret. The King
at first had not much faith in his confes-
sion; but Little Muck promised a trial if
the King assured him that he should not be
killed. The King gave him his word for
it, and, unknown to Muck, had some gold
buried in the ground, and told him to find
it with his little staff. In a few moments
he had discovered it, for the little staff
struck three times distinctly upon the
ground. The King now recognised that
his treasurer had deceived him, and sent
him, as is customary in the East, a silk
cord to hang himself with. But to Little
Muck he said: ‘Although I have promised
to spare your life, yet it seems to me you
possess more than the secret of this little
staff; therefore you shall pass the rest of
your days in captivity, unless you reveal
the means by which you run so swiftly.’
Little Muck, for whom one night in the
tower had been sufficient to make him hate
captivity, confessed that all his art lay in
his slippers; but he did not tell the King
the secret of turning three times on the heel.
The King himself slipped into the slippers
in order to make a trial, and rushed about
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK 123

like a madman in his garden; he often
wanted to stop, but he did not know how it
was possible, and Little Muck, who could
not help avenging himself a little, allowed
him to run until he fell down fainting.

When the King had gained consciousness
again, he was terribly angry with Little Muck
for having let him run about breathless. ‘I
have pledged my word to set you at liberty,
and to spare your life. Quit my kingdom
within twelve hours, else I will have you
hung.” The slippers and the little staff,
however, were put into his treasury.

As poor as before, Little Muck left the
country, cursing his folly which had deceived
him in imagining that he might play a
prominent part at Court. Fortunately, the
country from which he was banished was
not extensive, and after eight hours he
reached the frontier, although he had some
difficulty in walking, for he was accustomed
to his dear slippers.

After he had crossed the frontier he struck
out of the main path to find the most solitary
spot of the forest, intending to live there
only for himself, for he hated all mankind.
In a dense forest he chanced upon a little
place, which seemed quite suitable to him
according to the plan which he had formed.
A clear stream, surrounded by gigantic and
shady fig-trees and a soft piece of turf, invited
him to throw himself down, and it was here
124 STORIES FROM HAUFF

that he intended to take no more nourish-
ment, but to await death. Over these reflec-
tions of death he fell asleep ; but on awaking,
and when hunger tormented him, he came
to the conclusion that after all to die of
hunger was a terrible thing, and looked
around to see if he could find anything
to eat.

There were some delicious ripe figs on the
tree under which he had slept, so he climbed
up the tree to gather some, enjoyed them
heartily, and then came down to quench his
thirst in the brook. But how great was his
terror when his reflection in the water
showed him his head ornamented with two
immense ears and a thick long nose. In
dismay he seized his ears with his hands;
indeed they were more than half a yard long.

‘I deserve donkey’s ears!’ he exclaimed,
‘for I have, like an ass, trampled upon my
fortune.’ He wandered amongst the trees,
and on feeling hungry again, he ate once
more of the figs, for there was nothing else
eatable on the trees. Whilst he was eating .
the second lot of figs it occurred to him that
there might be room enough for his ears
under his great turban, so as not to appear
too ridiculous ; but he felt that his ears had
disappeared! He immediately returned to
the brook, in order to make sure of it. And
indeed it was true; his ears had assumed
their former appearance, and also his long
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK 128

and unshapely nose had changed. He now
perceived how all this had happened ; it was
owing to the figs from the first tree that he
had got the long nose and ears ; the second
had healed him. Gladly he recognised that
his good fortune had once again given him
the means of being happy. He therefore
gathered from each tree as much as he could
carry, and returned to the country which he
had recently quitted. In the first little town
he entered he disguised himself, and without
stopping went towards the city where the
King resided, and soon arrived there.

It happened to be the season of the year
when ripe fruits were scarce; Little Muck
therefore sat down near the gate of the
palace, for he remembered that in former
times the chief cook bought such rarities for
the royal table. Muck had only just sat
down when he saw the chief cook coming
across the court. He inspected the wares
of the sellers who had collected near the
gate of the palace; at last his attention was
directed towards Muck’s little basket. ‘Ah!
a rare bit,’ he said, ‘which His Majesty will
certainly enjoy. How much do you want
for the whole basketful?’ Little Muck asked
a moderate price, and they were soon agreed
over the bargain. The chief cook gave the
basket to a slave and continued his way.
Little Muck, however, ran away in the mean-
time, for he feared that if the horrible
126 STORIES FROM HAUFF

developments were to appear on the heads
of those at Court, he being the seller might
be sought out and punished.

The King was in high spirits during
dinner, and complimented the chief cook
over and over again on account of his
excellent cooking, and care in always select-
ing the best for him. The chief cook, how-
ever, who was well aware what delicacy was
yet to come, smiled significantly, and merely
said, ‘The day is not over yet,’ or ‘All’s
well that ends well,’ so that the Princesses
became very curious what else was to come.
When, therefore, he had the splendid inviting
figs served up, there was a universal cry of
‘Ah!’ from all present. ‘How beautiful,
how inviting !’ exclaimed the King. ‘Chief
cook, you are a capital fellow, and worthy
of our entire favour.’ In speaking thus the
King himself distributed these delicacies,
with which he was always very frugal, to
every one at table. Each Prince and each
Princess received two, the ladies in waiting,
the viziers, and the officers one each, the
rest he placed before himself, and com-
menced to eat them with a good appetite.

‘But dear me, how peculiar you look,
father!’ exclaimed Princess Amarza all at
once. All looked at the King in surprise:
immense ears hung down on his head, a
long nose extended down his chin. All the
guests looked at each other with astonish-
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK 127

ment and terror; all were more or less
adorned with this peculiar head-dress.

The consternation of the Court may be
easily imagined. They immediately sent
for all the physicians in the town, who came
in troops, prescribed pills and mixtures, but
the ears and noses remained. An operation
was performed on one of the Princes, but
the ears budded out again.

Muck had heard of the whole affair in his
hiding-place, and thought now was the time
for him to act. He had already procured
for himself a dress with the money which he
had obtained for the figs, and now appeared
as awise man, A long beard of goat’s hair
disguised him completely. He entered the
palace of the King with a little bag filled
with figs, and offered his services as a foreign
physician. At first they were somewhat
sceptical, but after Little Muck had given a
fig to one of the Princes to eat, and when
the latter’s ears and nose again assumed
their original shape, then all desired to be
cured by the foreign physician. The King,
however, took him silently by the hand and
led him into his apartment; he there un-
locked a door which led into the treasury,
beckoning Muck to follow him. ‘Here
are my treasures,’ said the King; ‘make
your selection, and whatever it be, you shall
have, if you rid me of this frightful evil.’
This was sweet music to the ears of Little
128 STORIES FROM HAUFF

Muck ; immediately on entering he had seen
his slippers lying on the floor, together with
his little staff He now went about the
room as if he were desirous of admiring the
King’s treasures. Scarcely, however, had
he come to his slippers when he quietly
slipped into them, seized his little staff, tore
off his false beard, and displayed to the
amazed King the well-known features of the
exiled Muck. ‘Perfidious King,’ he said,
‘who repay with ingratitude faithful services,
take as a well-deserved punishment the
deformity which has overtaken you. You
shall wear the long ears in order that they
may remind you daily of Little Muck.’

After having said this he quickly turned
round on his heel, wishing himself far away,
and before the King was able to call for
assistance Little Muck was out of sight.
Ever since Little Muck lives here in great
wealth, but secluded, for he hates men.
Experience has taught him wisdom, and
notwithstanding his strange exterior, he
rather deserves your admiration than your
mockery.

That is the story which my father told
me. I repented of my unworthy conduct
towards the good little man, and my father
remitted the other half of the punishment
which was yet in store for me. I related to
my comrades the marvellous adventures of
THE STORY OF LITTLE MUCK 129

the little man, and we became so fond of
him that none of us ever mocked him again.
On the contrary, we respected him as long
as he lived, and always bowed to him with
as much respect as we should have done
before a Cadi or a Mufti.


NOSE, THE DWARF

This story is from the collection called Zhe
Sheik of Alexandria and his Slaves, and is told by
a slave to the Sheik,

JIR, those people are much mis-
4 taken who fancy that there were
no fairies and enchanters, ex-
cept in the time of Haroun Al
Raschid, Lord of Bagdad, or even pronounce
those accounts untrue of the deeds of genii
and their princes, which one hears the
story-tellers relate in the market-places of
the town. There are fairies nowadays,
and it is but a short time since I myself
was witness of an occurrence in which genii
were evidently playing a part, as you will
see from my narrative. In a considerable
town of my dear fatherland, Germany, there
lived many years ago a cobbler, with his
wife, in a humble but honest way. In the
daytime he used to sit at the corner of a
street mending shoes and slippers; he did


NOSE, THE DWARF 131

not refuse making new ones if anybody
would trust him, but he was obliged to buy
the leather first, as his poverty did not en-
able him to keep a stock. His wife sold
vegetables and fruit, which she cultivated
in a small garden outside the town-gates,
and many people were glad to buy of her,
because she was dressed cleanly and neatly,
and knew how to arrange and lay out her
things to the best advantage.

Now this worthy couple had a beautiful
boy, of a sweet countenance, well made,
and rather tall for his age, which was eight
years. He was in the habit of sitting in
the market with his mother, and often
carried home part of the fruit and vege-
tables for the women and cooks who had
made large purchases; he seldom, how-
ever, returned from one of these journeys
without bringing either a beautiful flower,
a piece of money, or a cake, which the
mistresses of such cooks gave him as a
present, because they were always pleased
to see the handsome boy come to the
house.

One day the cobbler’s wife was sitting as
usual in the market-place, having before
her some baskets with cabbages and other
vegetables, various herbs and seeds, besides
some early pears, apples, and apricots, in a
small basket. Little Jacob (this was the
boy’s name) sat by her, crying out in a
132 STORIES FROM HAUFF

loud voice: ‘This way, gentlemen, see
what beautiful cabbages, what fragrant
herbs ; early pears, ladies, early apples and
apricots; who will buy? My mother sells
cheap.’

While the boy was thus calling out, an
old woman came across the market; her
dress was tattered and in rags, she had a
small, sharp face, quite furrowed with age,
red eyes, and a pointed, crooked nose,
which reached down to her chin; in her
walk she supported herself on a long stick,
and yet it was difficult to say exactly how
she walked, for she hobbled and shuffled
along, and waddled as if she were on
casters, and it was as if she must fall down
every instant and break her pointed nose
on the pavement.

The cobbler’s wife looked attentively at
this old woman. For sixteen years she
had been sitting daily in the market, yet
she had never observed this strange figure,
and therefore involuntarily shuddered when
she saw the old hag hobbling towards her
and stopping before her baskets.

‘Are you the greengrocer Hannah?’ she
asked in a disagreeable, croaking voice,
shaking her head to and fro.

‘Yes, I am, replied the cobbler’s wife ;
‘what is your pleasure ?’

‘We'll see, we'll see, we'll look at
your herbs—look at your herbs, to see
NOSE, THE DWARF 133

whether you have what I want,’ answered
the old woman; and stooping down she
thrust her dark brown, unsightly hands
into the herb-basket, and took up some
that were beautifully spread out, with her
long spider-like fingers, bringing them
one by one up to her long nose, and
smelling them all over. The poor woman
felt her heart quake when she saw the
old hag handle her herbs in this manner,
but she dared not say anything to her,
the purchasers having a right to examine
the things as they pleased; besides which,
she felt a singular awe in the presence of
this old woman. After having searched
the whole basket, she muttered, ‘Wretched
stuff, wretched herbs, nothing that I want
—were much better fifty years ago—
wretched stuff! wretched stuff!’

Little Jacob was vexed at these words.
‘Hark ye,’ he cried boldly, ‘you are an
impudent old woman ; first you thrust your
nasty brown fingers into these beautiful
herbs and squeeze them together, then you
hold them up to your long nose, so that no
one seeing this will buy them after you, and’
you abuse our goods, calling them wretched
stuff, though the duke’s cook himself buys
all his herbs of us.’

The old woman leered at the bold boy,
laughed disagreeably, and said in a hoarse
voice, ‘Little son, little son, you like my
134 STORIES FROM HAUFF

nose then,.my beautiful long nose? You
shall have one too in the middle of your
face that shall reach down to your chin.’

While she spoke thus she shuffled up to
another basket containing cabbages. She
took the most beautiful white heads up in
her hand, squeezed them together till they
squeaked, and then throwing them into the
basket again without regard to order, said
as before, ‘Wretched things! wretched
cabbages !’

‘Don’t wriggle your head about in that
ugly fashion,’ cried the little boy, rather
frightened ; ‘why your neck is as thin as a
cabbage-stalk and might easily break, then
your head would fall into the basket, and
who would buy of us ??

‘You don’t like such thin necks then,
eh?’ muttered the old woman, with a laugh.
‘You shall have none at all ; your head shall
be fixed between your shoulders, that it
may not fall down from the little body.’

‘Don’t talk such nonsense to the little
boy,’ at length said the cobbler’s wife, in-
dignant at the long-looking, examining, and
smelling of the things; ‘if you wish to buy
anything be quick, for you scare away all
my other customers.’

‘Well, be it as you say,’ cried the old
woman, with a furious look; ‘I will buy these
six heads of cabbages; but you see I must
support myself on my stick, and cannot
NOSE, THE DWARF 138

carry anything, therefore allow your little
son to carry them home for me, and I will
reward him.’

The little boy would not go with her, and
began to cry, for he was terrified at the ugly
old woman, but his mother commanded him
to go, as she thought it a sin to load the
feeble old soul with the burden. Still sob-
bing, he did as he was ordered, and followed
the old woman across the market-place.

She proceeded slowly, and was almost
three-quarters of an hour before she arrived
at a very remote part of the town, where
she at length stopped in front of a small
dilapidated house. She pulled out of her
pocket an old rusty hook, and thrust it
dexterously into a small hole in the door,
which immediately opened with a crash.
But what was the astonishment of little
Jacob as he entered! The interior of the
house was magnificently adorned, the ceil-
ing and walls were of marble, the furniture
of the most beautiful ebony, inlaid with gold
and polished stones, the floor was of glass,
and so smooth that little Jacob several
times slipped and fell down. The old
woman took a small silver whistle from her
pocket, and blew a note on it which sounded
shrilly through the house. Immediately
some guinea-pigs came down the stairs, and
little Jacob was much amazed at their walk-
ing upright on their hind legs, wearing on
136 STORIES FROM HAUFF

their paws nut-shells instead of shoes, men’s
clothes on their bodies, and even hats in
the newest fashion on their heads.

‘Where are my slippers, ye rascally crew?’
cried the old woman, striking at them with
her stick, so that they jumped squeaking
into the air; ‘how long am I to stand here
waiting ??

They quickly scampered up the stairs and
returned with a pair of cocoa-nut shells lined
with leather, which they placed dexterously
upon the old woman’s feet.

Now all her limping and shuffling was at
an end. She threw away her stick, and
glided with. great rapidity over the glass
floor, drawing little Jacob after her. At
length she stopped in a room which was
adorned with a great variety of utensils,
and which closely resembled a kitchen,
although the tables were of mahogany, and
the sofas covered with rich cloth, more fit
for a drawing-room.

‘Sit down, said the old woman kindly,
pressing him into a corner of a sofa, and
placing a table before him in such a manner
that he could not get out again; ‘sit down,
you have had a heavy load to carry ; human
heads are not so light—not so light.’

‘But, woman,’ replied the little boy, ‘you
talk very strangely; I am, indeed, tired,
but they were cabbage heads I was carrying,
and you bought them of my mother.’
NOSE, THE DWARF 137

‘Why, you know but little about that,’
said the old woman laughing, as she took
the lid from the basket and brought out a
human head, which she held by the hair.
The little boy was frightened out of his
senses at this; he could not comprehend
how it came about; and thinking of his
mother, he said to himself, ‘If any one
were to hear of these human heads, my
‘mother would certainly be prosecuted.’

‘TI must give you some reward now, as
you are so good,’ muttered the old woman ;
‘have patience for a minute, and I will pre-
pare for you a soup which you will remember
all your life? Having said this, she whistled
again, and immediately there came first
some guinea-pigs dressed like human beings;
they had tied round them kitchen-aprons,
fastened by a belt, in which were stuck ladles
and carving-knives ; after them came skip-
ping in a number of squirrels that wore
large, wide Turkish trousers, walked upright,
and had small caps of green velvet on their
heads. ‘These seemed to be the scullions,
for they climbed very nimbly up the walls
and brought down pans and dishes, eggs
and butter, herbs and flour, and carried it
to the hearth. The old woman slided con-
tinually to and fro upon her cocoa-nut
slippers, and little Jacob observed that she
was bent. on cooking something good for
him. Now the fire crackled and blazed up
138 STORIES FROM HAUFF

higher, there was a smoking and bubbling
in the saucepan, and a pleasant odour spread
over the room, but the old woman kept run-
ning up and down, the squirrels and guinea-
pigs after her, and as often as she passed
the hearth she poked her long nose into the
pot. At length it began to boil and hiss,
the steam rose from the pot, and the scum
flowed down into the fire. She then took
off the saucepan, and pouring some into a
silver basin, gave it to Jacob.

‘Now, my dear little son, now,’ said she,
‘eat this soup, and you will have in your
own person all that you admired so much in
me. ‘You shall moreover become a clever
cook, that you may be something at least,
but as for the herb, that you shall never
find, because your mother did not have it
in her basket.’

The little boy did not exactly iddersisad
what she was saying, but was the more
attentive in eating his soup, which he
relished uncommonly. His mother had
cooked various savoury soups, but never
any like this. The flavour of the fine herbs
and spice ascended from it, and it was at
the same time very sweet, and very sharp
and strong. While he was sipping the last
drops of the delicious soup the guinea-pigs
lighted some Arabian incense, which floated
through the room in blue clouds, which
became thicker and thicker, and then de-
NOSE, THE DWARF 139

scended. ‘The smell of the incense had a
stupefying effect upon the boy; in vain he
repeatedly said to himself that he must
return to his mother, for as often as he en-
deavoured to rouse himself, as often did he
relapse into slumber, and, at length, actually
fell into a profound sleep upon the old
woman’s sofa.

Strange dreams came over him while he
thus slept. It seemed as if the old woman
was taking off his clothes, and putting on
him the skin of a squirrel. Now he could
make bounds and climb like a squirrel; he
associated with the other squirrels and
guinea-pigs, who were all very polite, decent
people, and he did duty in waiting upon
the old woman in his turn like the rest. At
first he had to perform the service of a shoe-
black, that is, he had to oil and polish the
cocoa-nut shells which his mistress wore
instead of slippers. Having often blacked
and polished shoes at home, he performed
his duty well and quickly. After the lapse
of about one year he dreamt again (accord-
ing to the sequel of his dream) that he was
employed for more delicate work, that is, in
company with some other squirrels, he was
set to catch the motes in a sunbeam, and,
when they had caught enough, to sift them
through the finest hair-sieve, as the old
woman considered them the nicest food,
and not being able to masticate well for
140 STORIES FROM HAUFF

want of teeth, had her bread prepared of
such motes.

At the end of another year he was raised
to the rank of one of the servants who had
to collect the water the old woman drank.
But you must not suppose that she had a
cistern dug for that purpose, or a tub placed
in the yard to catch the rain-water ; she had
a much finer plan. The squirrels, and Jacob
with them, had to collect in their hazel-nut
shells the dew from roses, and this was the
beverage of the old woman. The labour of
these water-carriers was not a very light one,
as she used to drink a great deal. After
another year he was employed in in-door
service, his duty being to clean the floors,
and as they were of glass and showed the
least speck, it was not a very easy task. He
and his fellow-servants were obliged to brush
the floors, and with pieces of old cloth tied
to their feet dexterously skated about the
rooms. In the fourth year he received an
appointment in the kitchen, which was so
honourable an office that one could succeed
to it only after a long probation. Jacob
here served from scullion upwards to the
post of first pastrycook, and acquired such
an extraordinary skill and experience in
everything relating to the culinary art that
often he could not help wondering at him-
self ; the most difficult things, pies composed
of two hundred different ingredients, soups
NOSE, THE DWARF 141

prepared with all the herbs of the globe,—
all these, and many other things, he learned
to make quickly and efficiently.

Seven years had thus passed away in the
service of the old woman when one day,
pulling off her shoes of cocoa-nut, and taking
her basket and crutch in hand in order to
go out, she told him to pluck a chicken,
stuff it with herbs, and roast it nice and
brown, during her absence. He did this
according to the rules of his art; twisted
the chicken’s neck, scalded it in hot water,
pulled out the feathers cleverly, scraped its
skin smooth and fine, and then drew it.
Next he began gathering the herbs with
which he was to stuff the chicken. Now
when he came to the chamber where these
herbs were kept he perceived a small cup-
board in the wall that he had never before
noticed, and finding the door of it half open,
he had the curiosity to go near, in order to
see what it contained, when behold! there
stood a great many little baskets in it, from
which proceeded a strong pleasant smell.
He opened one of these little baskets,
and found in it a herb of a most singular
form and colour; its stalks and leaves were
of a bluish green, and it had a flower of
burning red fringed with yellow at the top.
He looked thoughtfully at this flower, and
smelled it, when it emitted the same power-
ful odour as the soup which the old woman
142 STORIES FROM HAUFF .

had cooked for him when he first came there.
But the smell was so strong that he began
to sneeze, was obliged to keep sneezing, and
at last awoke, sneezing still.

He now found himself upon the old
woman’s sofa, and looked around him with
astonishment. ‘Heavens!’ he said to him-
self, ‘how vividly one may dream; I would
almost have sworn that I was a wanton
squirrel,—a _ companion of guinea-pigs and
other animals, but at the same time had
become a great cook. How my mother will
laugh when I tell her all this! But will she
not also scold me for falling asleep in a
strange house instead of helping her in the
market ?? While engaged in these thoughts
he started up to run away; but his limbs
were still quite stiff with sleep, and particularly
his neck, for he was unable to move his
head well to and fro. He could not help
smiling at himself and his drowsiness, for
every moment, before he was aware, he ran
his nose against a cupboard or the wall, or
turning suddenly round, struck it against a
door-post. The squirrels and guinea-pigs
crowded whining around him, as if anxious
to accompany him, and he actually invited
them to do so when he was on the threshold,
for they were nice little creatures, but they
glided quickly back into the house on their
nutshells, and he only heard them howling
at a distance.
NOSE, THE DWARF 143

As it was a very remote part of the town
to which the old woman had brought him,
he could hardly find his way through the
narrow streets, and as, moreover, there was
a great crowd of people wherever he went,
he could only account for this by supposing
there must be a dwarf somewhere in the
neighbourhood for show, for he heard every-
where cries of, ‘Only look at the ugly dwarf !
Where does the dwarf come from? O!
what a long nose he has, and how his head
sits between his shoulders, and look at his
brown ugly hands!’ At any other time he
would probably have followed the cry, for
he was very fond of seeing giants and dwarfs,
and any sort of curious, foreign costume, but
now he was obliged to hurry and get to his
mother.

He felt quite weary when he arrived at
the market. He found his mother still sitting
there, and she had a tolerable quantity of
fruit in the basket; he could not therefore
have been sleeping long, but still it appeared
to him, even at a distance, as if she were
very melancholy, for she did not call to
those coming past to buy, but supported her
head on one hand, and on coming closer he
thought she looked paler than usual. He
hesitated as to what he should do; and at
length mustering up courage, crept gently
behind her, and putting his hand familiarly
upon her arm, asked, ‘Dear mother, what’s
144 STORIES FROM HAUFF

the matter with you? are you angry with
me ??

The woman turned round, but started
back with a shriek of terror, saying, ‘ What
do you want with me, you ugly dwarf?
Begone, begone! I do not like such jokes.’

‘But mother, what is the matter with
you?’ asked Jacob, quite terrified ; ‘surely
you must be unwell; why will you turn your
son away from you?’

‘I have told you already to be gone,’
replied Hannah angrily ; ‘you will not get
any money from me by your juggleries, you
ill-favoured monster.’

‘ Surely God has deprived her of the light
of her intellect,’ said the dwarf, deeply
grieved within himself; ‘what shall I do to
get her home? Dear mother, pray do listen
to reason ; only look well at me, Iam indeed
your son—your own Jacob.’

‘Why this is carrying the joke too far,’
she said to her neighbour; ‘only look at
that ugly dwarf; there he stands, and will
no doubt drive away all my customers ; nay,
he even dares to ridicule my misfortune,
telling me that he is my son, my own Jacob,
the impudent fellow.’

At this her neighbours rose, and began
abusing him (every one knows that market
women understand this), and reproaching
him with making light of poor Hannah’s
misfortune, who seven years ago had had
NOSE, THE DWARF 148

her beautiful boy kidnapped, and with one
accord they threatened to fall upon him and
tear him to pieces, unless he took himself
off immediately.

Poor Jacob did not know what to make
of all this. Indeed it seemed to him that
he had that very morning, as usual, gone to
market with his mother, had helped her to
lay out her fruit, and had afterwards gone
with the old woman to her house, eaten
some soup, slept a little while, and had now
come back; and yet his mother and her
neighbours talked of seven years, calling
him at the same time an ugly dwarf, What
then was the change that had come over
him? Seeing, at length, that his mother
would no longer listen to anything he said,
he felt the tears come in his eyes, and went
sorrowfully down the street towards the stall
where his father sat in the daytime mending
shoes.

‘I am curious to see,’ he thought to him-
self, ‘whether he, too, will disown me? I
will place myself in the doorway and talk to
him.’ And having come there he did so and
looked in.

The cobbler was so busily engaged at
work that he did not see him; but happening
to cast a look towards the door, he dropped
shoe, twine, and awl on the ground, and
cried with astonishment, ‘ For Heaven’s sake,
what is that?’

L
146 STORIES FROM HAUFF

‘Good evening, master,’ said the little
dwarf, stepping inside the booth. ‘How
fare you?’

‘Badly, badly, my little gentleman,’ re-
plied Jacob’s father, to his utter amazement ;
for he, too, did not seem to recognise him.
‘I have to do all the work myself, for I am
alone and now getting old, and yet I cannot
afford to keep a journeyman.’

‘But have you no son to assist you in
your work?’ inquired the dwarf further.

‘Indeed I had one, whose name was
Jacob, and he now must be a handsome,
quick lad, twenty years old, who might
effectually assist me. Ah! what a pleasant
life I should lead. Even when he was
twelve years old he showed himself quite
handy and clever, and understood a great
deal of the business. He wasa fine engaging
little fellow; he would soon have brought
me plenty of custom, so that I should no
longer have been mending shoes and boots
but making new ones. But so goes the
world,’

‘Where is your son, then?’ asked Jacob
in a tremulous voice.

‘That God only knows,’ replied his father.
‘Seven years ago, yes! it is just that now,
he was stolen from us in the market-place,

‘Seven years ago, you say?’ cried Jacob
with astonishment.

‘Yes, little gentleman, seven years ago ;
NOSE, THE DWARF 147

the circumstance is as fresh in my memory
as if it had happened to-day, how my poor
wife came home weeping and crying, saying
that the child had not come back all day,
and that she had inquired and searched
everywhere without finding him. But I
always said it would come to that ; for Jacob
was a pretty child, no one could help saying
so, therefore my poor wife was proud of him
and fond of hearing people praise him, and
often sent him with vegetables and such like
to the houses of the gentlefolks. All this
was very well; he always received some
present. But said I, mark me, the town is
large, and there are many bad people in it,
so take care of Jacob. But it happened as
I said. Once there comes an ugly old
woman to the market, bargains for some
fruits and vegetables, and at length buys so
much that she cannot carry it home herself.
My wife, kind soul, sends the lad with her, and
—has never seen him again since that hour.’

‘And that is now seven years ago?’

‘Seven years this spring. We had him
cried in the town, we went from house to
house inquiring ; many had known and liked
the pretty lad, and searched with us, but all
in vain. Neither did any one know the
woman who bought the vegetables ; a very
aged woman, however, ninety years old,
said, ‘it might possibly have been the
wicked fairy, Kréuterweis, who once in
148 STORIES FROM HAUFF

fifty years comes to the town to buy various
things ??

Thus spoke Jacob’s father hastily, ham-
mering at his shoes meanwhile, and drawing
out at great length the twine with both hands.
Now by degrees light broke on the little
dwarf, and he saw what had happened to
him, viz, that he had not been dreaming,
but had served as a squirrel seven years with
the evil fairy. Rage and sorrow filled his
heart almost to bursting.

The old witch had robbed him of seven
years of his youth, and what had he in ex-
change? What was it that he could polish
slippers of cocoa-nut shell? that he could
clean rooms with glass floors? that he had
learned all the mysteries of cooking from
the guinea-pigs? Thus he stood for some
time meditating on his fate, when at length
his father asked him—

‘Do you want to purchase anything,
young gentleman? Perhaps a pair of new
slippers or, peradventure, a case for your
nose ?? he added, smiling.

‘What do you mean about my nose?’
asked Jacob; ‘why should I want a case
for it?’ 7

‘Why,’ replied the cobbler, ‘every one
according to his taste; but I must tell you
that if I had such a terrible nose I should
have a case made for it of rose-coloured
morocco, Look here, I have a beautiful
NOSE, THE DWARF 149

piece that is just the thing; indeed we
should at least want a yard for it. It would
then be well guarded, my little gentleman ;
whereas now I am sure you will knock it
against every door-post and carriage you
would wish to avoid.’

The dwarf was struck dumb with terror ;
he felt his nose; it was full two hands long,
and thick in proportion. So then the old
hag had likewise changed his person; and
hence it was his mother did not know him,
and people called him an ill-favoured dwarf.

‘Master,’ said he, half crying to the
cobbler, ‘have you no looking-glass at hand
in which I might behold myself?’

. Young gentleman,’ replied his father
gravely, ‘ you have not exactly been favoured
as to appearance so as to make you vain,
and you have no cause to look often in the
glass. You had better leave it off altogether.
It is with you a particularly ridiculous habit.’

‘Oh! pray let me look in the glass,’ cried
the dwarf. ‘I assure you it is not from
vanity.’

‘Leave me in peace, I have none in my
possession; my wife has a little looking-
glass, but I do not know where she has hid
it. If you really must look into one,—why
then, over the way lives Urban, the barber,
who has a glass twice as big as your head ;
look in there, and now, good morning.’

With these words his father pushed him
150 STORIES FROM HAUFF

gently out of the stall, locked the door after
him, and sat down again to his work. The
little dwarf, much cast down, went over the
way to the barber, whom he well remembered
in former times.

‘Good morning, Urban,’ said he to him,
‘I come to beg a favour of you; be so kind
as to let me look a moment in your looking-
glass.’

‘With pleasure,’ cried the barber laugh-
ing; ‘there it is,’ and his customers who
were about to be shaved laughed heartily
with him. ‘You are rather a pretty fellow,
slim and genteel; you have a neck like a
swan, hands like a queen, and a turn-up
nose, such as one seldom sees excelled. A
little vain you are of it, no doubt; but no
matter, look at yourself; people shall not
say that envy prevented me from allowing
you to see yourself in my glass.’

Thus spoke the barber, and a yell of
laughter resounded through the room, In
the meantime the dwarf had stepped to the
glass and looked at himself. The tears
came in his eyes while saying to himself:
‘Yes, dear mother, thus you could not indeed
recognise your Jacob; he did not look like
this in the days of your happiness, when you
delighted to show him off before the people ??
His eyes had become little, like those of a
pig; his nose was immense, hanging over
his mouth down to his chin; his neck
NOSE, THE DWARF I5I

seemed to have been taken away altogether,
for his head sat low between his shoulders,
and it was only with the greatest pain that
he could move it to the right or left ; his
body was still the same size as it had been
seven years ago, when he was twelve years
old, so that he had grown in width what
others do in height between the ages of
twelve and twenty. His back and chest
stood out like two short, well-filled bags;
and this thick-set body was supported by
small thin legs, which seemed hardly suffi-
cient to support their burden ; but so much
the larger were his arms, which hung down
from his body, being of the size of those of
a full-grown man; his hands were coarse,
and of a brownish hue, his fingers long, like
spiders’ legs, and when he stretched them
to their full extent he could touch the
ground without stooping. Such was little
Jacob’s appearance, now that he had been
turned into an ugly dwarf. He remembered
the morning on which the old woman had
stopped before his mother’s baskets. All
that he then had found fault with in her—
viz, her long nose and ugly fingers—all
these she had given him, only omitting her
long, palsied neck.

‘Well, my prince, have you looked
enough at yourself now?? said the barber,
stepping up to him, and surveying him with
a laugh. ‘Truly, if we wished to dream of
152 STORIES FROM HAUFF

such a figure, we could hardly see one so
comical. Nevertheless I will make you a
proposition, my little man. My shaving-
room is tolerably well frequented, but yet
not so much as I could wish. That arises
from my neighbour, the barber Schaum,
having discovered a giant, who attracts
much custom to his house. Now, to
become a giant is no great thing, after all,
but to be such a little man as you is indeed
a different thing. Enter my service, little
man; you shall have board and lodging,
clothes, and everything ; for this you shall
stand in my doorway in the morning, and
invite people to come in; you shall beat the
lather, hand the towel to the customers, and
you may be sure that we shall both make it
answer ; I shall get more customers through
you than my neighbour by his giant, and
you will get many presents.’

The little man felt quite indignant at the
proposal of serving as a decoy to a barber.
But was he not obliged to submit patiently
to this insulting offer? He therefore
quietly told the barber he had no time for
such services, and went away.

Although the evil hag had thus stunted
his growth, yet she had had no power to
affect his mind, as he felt full well; for he
no longer thought and felt as he did seven
years since, and believed that he had
become wiser and more sensible in the
NOSE, THE DWARF _ 183

interval. He did not mourn for the loss of
his beauty, nor for his ugly appearance, but
only that he was driven from his father’s
door like a dog. However, he resolved to
make another trial with his mother.

He went again to her in the market, and
entreated her to listen to him patiently.
He reminded her of the day on which he
had gone with the old woman ; he called to
her mind all the particular incidents of his
childhood, told her then how he had served
seven years as a squirrel with the fairy, and
how she had changed him because he had
then ridiculed her person.

- The cobbler’s wife did not know what to

think of all this. All that he related of his
childhood agreed with her own recollections,
but when he talked of serving seven years
as a squirrel she said, ‘It is impossible ;
there are no fairies ;’ and when she looked
at him she felt a horror at the ugly dwarf,
and would not believe that he could be her
son, At length she thought it would. be
best to talk the matter over with her hus-
band; therefore she took up her baskets
and bade him go with her.

On arriving at the cobbler’s stall she
said: ‘Look, this fellow pretends to be our
lost Jacob. He has told me all the circum-
stances ; how he was stolen from us seven
years since, and how he was enchanted by
a fairy.
154 STORIES FROM HAUFF

‘Indeed,’ interrupted the cobbler in a
rage, ‘has he told you this? wait, you
rogue !—I have told him all this an hour
ago, and then he goes to make a fool of
you. Enchanted you have been, my little
chap, have you? Wait a bit, I will soon
disenchant you!’ So saying, he took a
bundle of straps that he had just cut,
jumped up towards the dwarf, and beat him
on his humped back and his long arms,
making the little fellow scream with pain
and run away crying.

Now in that town, as in others, there
were but few of those compassionate souls
who will support a poor unfortunate man
who has a ridiculous appearance. Hence
it was that the unlucky dwarf remained all
day without food, and was obliged in the
evening to choose for his night’s quarters
the steps of a church, though they were
hard and cold.

When on the following morning the first
rays of the sun awoke him, he began seri-
ously to think how he should earn his
livelihood, now that his father and mother
had repudiated him; he was too proud to
serve as a signboard to a barber; he would
not hire himself as a merry-andrew to be
exhibited: what then should he do? It
now occurred to him that as a squirrel he
had made considerable progress in the
culinary art, and thought he might justly
NOSE, THE DWARF 155

expect to prove a match for any cook; he
therefore resolved to turn his art to advan-
tage.

As soon, therefore, as the morning had
dawned, and the streets became animated,
he entered a church and performed his
devotions ; then he proceeded on his way.
The duke’ (the sovereign of the country)
was a notorious gourmand, who kept a
good table, and sought cooks in all parts
of the world. To his palace the dwarf
went. When he arrived at the outer gate
the porter asked his errand, and began to
crack his jokes on him; when he asked for
the chief cook they laughed and led him
through the inner courts, and wherever he
went the servants stood still, looked at him,
laughed heartily, and followed him, so that
in a short time a great posse of menials of all
descriptions crowded up the steps of the
palace. The grooms threw away their
curry-combs, the running footmen ran
with all their might, the carpet-spreaders
ceased beating their carpets, all crowded
and thronged around him, as though the
enemy were at the gates, and the shouts of
‘A dwarf, a dwarf! have you seen the
dwarf ?? filled the air.

At this moment the steward of the palace,
with a furious countenance and a large
whip in his hand, made his appearance at
the door, crying, ‘For Heaven’s sake, ye
156 STORIES FROM HAUFF

hounds, what is all this uproar for? Do
you not know that our gracious master
is still asleep?’ At the same time he
flourished his whip, laying it rather roughly
about the backs of some grooms and
porters.

‘Why, sir,’ they all cried, ‘don’t you see
that we are bringing a dwarf, such a dwarf
as you never saw?’ The steward sup-
pressed a loud laugh with difficulty when
he got sight of the little man, for he was
afraid that laughter would take from his
dignity. He drove them all away with his
whip except the dwarf, whom he led into
the house and asked what he wanted.
Hearing that the little man wished to see
the master of the kitchen, he replied, ‘You
make a mistake, my little son; I suppose
you want to see me, the steward of the
palace, do you not? ‘You wish to become
dwarf to the duke, is it not so?’

‘No, sir, replied the dwarf, ‘I am a
clever cook and skilled in the preparation
of all sorts of choice meats ; be so kind as
to bring me to the master of the kitchen ;
perhaps he may be in want of my skill.’

‘Every one according to his wish, my
little man; but you are an inconsiderate
youth. To the kitchen! why, as the duke’s
dwarf you would have nothing to do and
plenty to eat and drink to your heart’s
desire, and fine clothes into the bargain.
NOSE, THE DWARF 157

But we shall see; your skill in the culinary
art will hardly be such as a cook to the
duke is required to possess, and you are
too good for a scullion.’ As he said the
last words he took the dwarf by the hand
and conducted him to the apartments of the
master of the kitchen.

On arriving there the dwarf said, with
so deep a bow that his nose touched the
floor, ‘Gracious sir, are you in want of a
skilful cook ??

The master of the kitchen, surveying
him from top to toe, burst into a loud fit
of laughter, and said, ‘What, you a cook ?
Do you think that our hearths are so low
that you could even look on one, though
you should stand on tiptoe, and stretch
your head ever so much out of your
shoulders? My good little fellow, whoever
sent you here to hire yourself out as cook
has been making a fool of you.’ Thus
saying, the master-cook laughed heartily,
and was joined by the steward of the palace
and all the servants in the room.

But the dwarf was not to be discomposed
by this. ‘Of what consequence is it to
waste a few eggs, a little syrup and wine,
some flour and spice upon trial in a house
where there is plenty? Give me some
dainty dish to prepare,’ said he, ‘procure
all that is necessary for it, and it shall be
immediately prepared before your eyes, so
158 STORIES FROM HAUFF

that you shall be constrained to avow that
I am a first-rate cook.’

While the dwarf was saying all this, and
many other things, it was strange to see
how his little eyes sparkled, how his long
nose moved to and fro, and his fingers,
which were like spiders’ legs, suited their
movements to his words.

‘Well!’ exclaimed the master -cook,
taking the steward by the arm, ‘Well! be
it so for the sake of the joke, let us go to
the kitchen.’

They walked through several large rooms
and corridors till they came to the kitchen.
This was a large spacious building mag-
nificently fitted up; on twenty hearths fires
were constantly burning, clear water was
flowing through the midst, serving also as
a fish-pond; in cupboards of marble and
choice wood the stores were piled, which
it was necessary to have at hand for use,
and on either side were ten rooms, in which
were kept all the delicious dainties for the
palate which can be obtained in all the
countries of Europe and in the East.
Servants of all descriptions were running to
and fro, handling and rattling kettles and
pans, with forks and ladles; but when the
master-cook entered all stood motionless,
and the crackling of the fire and the rip-
pling of the brook were alone heard.

‘What has the duke ordered for breakfast
NOSE, THE DWARF 189

this morning?’ he asked an old cook, who
always prepared the breakfast.

‘Sir, His Highness has pleased to order
the Danish soup, with the small red Ham-
burg dumplings.’

‘Well,’ continued the master-cook, ‘did
you hear what the duke wishes to eat?
Are you bold enough to attempt this difficult
dish? At all events the dumplings you will
not be able to make; that is quite a secret.’

‘Nothing easier than that,’ replied the
dwarf, to their astonishment; for he had
often made this dish when he was a squirrel.
‘Nothing easier, only give me the herbs,
the spices, fat of a wild boar, roots and
eggs for the soup; but for the dumplings,’
said he in a low voice, so that only the
master-cook and the breakfast-maker could
hear, ‘for the dumplings I want various
meats, wine, duck’s fat, ginger, and the
herb called the stomach comforter.’

‘Ah, by St. Benedict, to what enchanter
have you been apprenticed ?’ cried the cook |
in astonishment. ‘You have hit all toa hair,
and as to the noted herb, we did not know
of that ourselves ; yes! that must make the
dish still more delicious. Oh! you miracle
of a cook !’

‘I should never have expected this,’ said
the master-cook, ‘but let us make the trial ;
give him all he asks for, and let him prepare
the breakfast.’
160 STORIES FROM HAUFF

His orders were obeyed, and the neces-
sary preparations were made on the hearth ;
but they now found that the dwarf could
not reach it. They therefore put two chairs
together, laid a slab of marble on them,
and asked the little wonder to step up and
show his skill. In a large circle stood the
cooks, scullions, servants, and _ others,
looking at him in amazement, seeing how
readily and quickly he proceeded, and how
cleanly and neatly he prepared everything.
When he had finished he ordered both
dishes to be put to the fire, and to be
boiled until he should call out; then he
began to count one, two, three, and so on
up to five hundred, when he cried out,
‘Stop, take them off,’ and then invited the
head cook to taste them.

The taster ordered the scullion to bring
him a gold spoon, which he first rinsed in
the brook, and then gave it to the head
cook. The latter, stepping up to the
hearth with a grave mien, took a spoon-
ful, tasted it, and shutting his eyes,
smacked his lips with delight, saying,
‘Delicious! by the duke’s life, delicious !
Would you not like to taste a spoonful,
Mr. Steward?’ The latter, bowing, took
the spoon, tasted it, and was beside him-
self with delight.

‘With all due respect to your skill, dear
breakfast-maker, you aged and experienced
NOSE, THE DWARF 161

cook, you have never been able to make
soup or dumplings so delicious.’

The cook also tasted it, shook the dwarf
reverentially by the hand, saying, ‘ My little
man, you are a master of your art; yes,
that herb ‘‘stomach comforter” imparts a
peculiar charm to the whole.’

At this moment the duke’s valet entered
the kitchen and informed them that the
duke wished his breakfast. The prepara-
tions were now dished up on silver, and
sent up to the duke; but the head cook
took the dwarf to his own room to converse
with him. They had scarcely sat down long
enough to say half a paternoster when a
messenger came and called the head cook
to the duke. He quickly put on his best
clothes, and followed the messenger.

The duke looked well pleased. He had
eaten all they had served, and was just
wiping his beard as the master-cook entered.
‘Master,’ said he, ‘I have hitherto always
been well satisfied with your cooks ; but tell
me who prepared the breakfast this morn-
ing? It never was so delicious since I sat
on the throne of my fathers; tell me the
name of the cook, that I may send him a
ducat as a present.’

‘My lord, this is a strange story,’ re-
plied the master; and he told the duke
that a dwarf had been brought to him that
morning, who earnestly solicited the place

M
162 STORIES FROM HAUFF

of a cook, and how all had happened. The
duke was greatly astonished, ordered the
dwarf to appear, and asked him who he
was, and whence he came. Now poor
Jacob did not exactly wish to say that he
had been enchanted, and had served asa
squirrel. But yet he adhered to truth,
telling him that he now had neither father
nor mother, and had learned cooking of an
old woman. Much amused by the strange
appearance of his new cook, the duke asked
no more questions, but said, ‘If you wish
to remain here, I will give you fifty ducats
a year, a suit of livery, and two pair of
breeches beside. Your duty shall be to
prepare my breakfast yourself every day,
to give directions how the dinner shall be
prepared, and to take the general superin-
tendence of the cooking. As each in my
palace has his proper name, you shall be
called “Nose,” and hold the office of sub-
master-cook.’

The dwarf prostrated himself before the
mighty duke, kissed his feet, and promised
to serve him faithfully.

Thus the dwarf was for the present pro-
vided for, and did honour to his office.
And it must be remarked that the duke had
become quite an altered man since Nose,
the dwarf, had been in the palace. For-
merly, he had often been pleased to throw
the dishes and plates that were served up
NOSE, THE DWARF 163

at the heads of the cooks; indeed, he even
once, in a fit of rage, threw a fried calf’s
foot that was not sufficiently tender with
such violence at the head of the master-
cook that the latter fell to the ground, and
was compelled for three days to keep his
bed. ’Tis true the duke made him amends
for what he had done by some handfuls of
ducats, but still no cook ever came before
him with his dishes without trembling and
terror.

Ever since the dwarf had been in the
palace all seemed to be changed, as if by
magic. The duke, instead of three, now
had five meals a day, in order to relish
properly the skill of his little servant, and
yet he never showed the least sign of dis-
content. Indeed, he found all new and
excellent, was kind and pleasant, and be-
came fatter every day.

He would often in the midst of a meal
send for the master-cook and the dwarf, set
one on his right, and the other on his left
hand, and put with his own gracious fingers
some morsels of the delicious viands into
their mouths: a favour which both knew
how to appreciate fully. The dwarf was
the wonder of the whole town, and people
requested the permission of the master-cook
to see him cook, while some of the principal
folks prevailed upon the duke to permit
their servants to profit by the instructions
164 STORIES FROM HAUFF

of the dwarf in his kitchen, by which he
obtained much money, for those who came
to learn paid daily half a ducat. In order,
however, to keep the other cooks in good
humour, and prevent jealousy, Nose let
them have the money that was paid by the
masters for instruction.

Thus Nose lived almost two years in great
comfort and honour, the thought of his
parents alone saddening him, and nothing
remarkable occurring until the following
circumstance happened. The dwarf being
particularly clever, and fortunate in his
purchases, went himself, as often as time
permitted, to the market, to buy poultry and
fruit. One morning he went to the poultry-
market, and walking up and down inquired
for fat geese such as his master liked. His
appearance, far from creating laughter and
ridicule, commanded respect, since he was
known as the duke’s celebrated cook, and
each poultry-woman felt herself happy if he
but turned his nose to her. . At length
coming to the end of a row of stalls, he
perceived in a corner a woman with geese
for sale, who did not, like the others, praise
her goods, nor call to the customers. .

He stepped up to her, examined the geese,
weighed them in his hand, and finding them
to his liking, bought three, with the cage
they were in, put them on his shoulders, and
trotted home. It appeared singular to him
NOSE, THE DWARF 168

that only two of the geese cackled and cried
like others, the third being quite quiet and
thoughtful, and occasionally groaning and
moaning like a human being.

‘She is not well,’ said he to himself; ‘1
must hasten to get home and dress her.’
But the goose replied, distinctly,

‘If thou stick’st me,
Why I'll bite thee,

And if my neck thou twistest round,
Thou soon wilt lie below the ground.’

Quite startled, the dwarf put down the
basket, and the goose, looking at him with
her fine intelligent eyes, sighed. ‘Why,
what have we here?’ cried Nose. ‘You
can talk, Miss Goose. I never expected
that, Well, make yourself easy; I know
the world and will not harm so rare a bird.
But I would wager something that you have
not always been covered with feathers. In-
deed I was once a poor squirrel myself.’

‘You are right,’ replied the goose, ‘in
saying I was not born with this disgraceful
disguise. Alas! it was never sung at my
cradle that Mimi, the great Wetterbock’s
daughter, would be killed in the kitchen of
a duke.’

‘Pray be easy, dear Miss Mimi,’ said the
dwarf, comforting her, ‘for as sure as I am
an honest fellow, and sub-master-cook to
His Highness, no one shall touch your throat.
I will give you a stall in my own apartments,
166 STORIES FROM HAUFF

you shall have enough food, and I will de-
vote my leisure time to converse with you.
Pll tell the others in the kitchen that I am
fattening a goose with various herbs for the
duke, and at the first opportunity you shall
be set at liberty.’

The goose thanked him with tears in her
eyes, and the dwarf, as he had promised,
killed the other two geese, but built a stall
for Mimi, under the pretence of preserving
her for some special occasion. Instead of
feeding her on grain he gave her pastry and
sweetmeats. As often as he had time he
went to converse with her and comfort het.
They related their histories to each other,
and Nose learnt that she was the daughter
of the enchanter, Wetterbock, who lived in
the island of Gothland. Being involved in
a quarrel with an old fairy, her father had
been conquered by stratagems and cunning,
and out of revenge the fairy had changed
her into a goose, and brought her to the
town,

When the dwarf told his history she said,
‘I am not inexperienced in these matters,
my father having given me and my sisters
what instruction he was allowed to .impart.
The story of the dispute at your mother’s
fruit stall, your sudden metamorphosis when
you smelled the herb, as well as the words
the old woman used, show me that you are
enchanted through herbs ; that is to say, if
NOSE, THE DWARF 167

you can find out the herb of which the fairy
thought when she bewitched you, you may
be disenchanted.’ This was but poor conso-
lation for the dwarf, for how should he find
the herb? Yet he thanked her and felt
some hope.

About this time the duke had a visit from
a neighbouring prince, his friend. He,
therefore, ordered the dwarf to appear, and
said, ‘Now is the time for you to show
whether you serve me faithfully and are
master of your art. The prince, who is now
visiting me, keeps the best table after me,
as is well known. He is a great connoisseur
in good living, and a wise man. Let it now
be your care to supply my table every day
so that his astonishment shall daily become
greater. But you must not, under pain of
my displeasure, repeat the same dish during
his visit. You may ask of my treasurer all
you want, and should it be needful to fry
gold and diamonds you must do it. I would
rather become poor than forfeit his good
opinion of my taste.’

When the duke had concluded the dwarf
bowed most respectfully, saying, ‘Be it as
you say, my lord; please God I shall do
all to gratify the palate of this prince of
gourmands,’

The little cook now mustered all his skill.
He did not spare his master’s treasures, and
still less did he spare himself. He was seen
168 STORIES FROM HAUFF

all day at the fire, enveloped by clouds of
smoke, and his voice constantly resounded
through the vaults of the kitchen, for he
governed the scullions and under-cooks.

During a fortnight the foreign prince lived
happily, and feasted sumptuously with the
duke. They ate not less than five times a
day, and the duke was delighted with his
dwarf, seeing satisfaction expressed on the
countenance of his guest. But on the
fifteenth day it happened that the duke,
while at table, sent for the dwarf, presented
him to his guest, and asked how he was
satisfied with his cooking ?

‘You are a wonderful cook,’ replied the
prince, ‘and know what good living is. All
the time I have been here you have not
repeated a single dish, and have prepared
everything exquisitely. But pray tell me,
why have you not all this time prepared
that queen of dishes, the pie called “ souze-
raine” ??

The dwarf was startled at this question,
for he had never heard of this queen of pies;
however, he recovered himself and replied,
‘My lord, I was in hopes that your serene
countenance would shine some time yet on
this court, therefore I deferred this dish;
for with what dish but the queen of pies
should the cook honour the day of your
departure ?’

‘Indeed!’ said the duke, laughing, ‘1
NOSE, THE DWARF 169

suppose then you wish to wait for the day
of my death to honour me, for you have
never yet sent it up to me. But think of
another dish to celebrate the departure, for
to-morrow that pie must be on the table.’

‘Your pleasure shall be done, my lord,’
replied the dwarf, and retired. But he went
away uneasy, for the day of his disgrace and
misfortune had come. He did not know
how to prepare this pie. He went therefore
to his chamber and wept over his fate,
when the goose Mimi, who was allowed to
walk about, came up and inquired the cause
of his grief. When she heard of the pie,
‘Dry your tears,’ said she, ‘this dish often
came to my father’s table, and I know pretty
well what is necessary for it; you have only
to take such and such things in certain
quantities, and should these not be all that
are really necessary, I trust that the taste of
these gentlemen is not sufficiently refined to
discover the deficiency.’

At these words the dwarf danced with joy,
blessed the day on which he had purchased
the goose, and set about making this queen
of pies. He first made a trial in miniature,
and lo! the flavour was exquisite, and the
master-cook, to whom he gave the small pie
to taste, praised his great skill once more.

The following day he prepared the pie on
a larger scale, and, after having garnished
it with flowers, sent it hot as it came from
170 STORIES FROM HAUFF

the oven to table. After. which he dressed
in his best and went to the dining-hall. On
entering he found the steward engaged in
carving the pie, and presenting it on silver
dishes to the duke and his guest. The duke
swallowed a large piece, turned his eyes
upward, saying ‘Ha! ha! ha! justly is this
called the queen of pies; but my dwarf is
also a king of cooks. Is it not so, my
friend ?’

His guest took a small morsel, tasted it
carefully, and smiled somewhat scornfully
and mysteriously.

‘The thing is made pretty well,’ he replied,
pushing his plate away, ‘but it is not quite
the Souzeraine, as I well imagined.’

At this the duke frowned with indigna-
tion, and turned red, saying, ‘You hound
of a dwarf, how dare you do this to your
lord? I will have your big head cut off as
a punishment for your bad cooking.’

‘Ah, my lord,’ said the dwarf, trembling,
‘for Heaven’s sake have compassion on me ;
I have made that dish, indeed, according to
the proper receipt, and am sure that nothing
is wanting,

“Tis a lie, you knave,’ replied the duke,
giving him a kick, ‘’tis a lie, else my guest
would not say there was something wanting.
I will have you yourself cut up and baked
in a pie.’

‘Have compassion on me!’ exclaimed
NOSE, THE DWARF 171

the dwarf, shuffling on his knees up to the
prince, and clasping his feet ; ‘tell me what
is wanting to this pie and why it does not
suit your palate: let me not die for a hand-
ful of meat or flour.’

‘ This will not avail you, my good Nose,’
replied the prince, laughing ; ‘even yester-
day I thought you would not be able to make
this dish as well as my cook. Know there
is wanting a herb called Sneeze-with-pleasure,
which is not even known in this country.
Without it this pie is insipid, and your
master will never eat it in such perfection
as I do?

At this the duke flew into a rage, and
cried with flashing eyes :

‘J will eat it in perfection yet, for I swear
by my princely honour that by to-morrow I
will either have the pie set before you, such
as you desire it, or the head of this fellow
shall be spiked on the gate of my palace.
Go, you hound, I give you once more twenty-
four hours !’ cried the duke.

The dwarf again went to his chamber and
mourned over his fate with the goose that
he must die, as he had never heard of this
herb. ‘If it is nothing more,’ said she, ‘I
can help you out of the difficulty, as my
father has taught me to know all herbs. At
any other time your death, no doubt, would
have been certain, and it is fortunate for you
that we have a new moon, as the herb is
172 STORIES FROM HAUFF

only then in flower. Now tell me, are there
any old chestnut-trees in the neighbourhood
of the palace ?’

‘Oh yes,’ replied Nose with a lighter
heart, ‘near the lake, about two hundred
yards from the palace, there is a clump of
them ; but what of them ?’

‘Why,’ said Mimi, ‘the herb only flowers
at the foot of them. Now let us lose no
time but go to fetch what you want; take
me on your.arm, and put me down when
we get out, that I may search for you.’

He did as she requested, and went towards
the gate of the palace, but here the porter
levelled his gun and said: ‘My good Nose, it
is all over with you; you must not pass; I
have strict orders respecting you.’

‘But I suppose I may go into the garden,’
replied the dwarf. . ‘Be so good as to send
one of your fellow-servants to the master of
the palace, and ask whether I may not go
into the garden to fetch herbs.’ The porter
did so and permission was given, since, the
garden having high walls, escape was im-
possible. But when Nose and Mimi had
got out he put her carefully down, and she
ran quickly before him towards the lake,
where the chestnuts were. He followed
with a heavy heart, since this was his last
and only hope. If she did not find the
herb he was resolved rather to plunge into
the lake than to have his head cut off. The
NOSE, THE DWARF 173

goose searched in vain under all the chest-
nut-trees ; she turned every herb with her
beak, but no trace of the one wanted was to
be found, and she now began to cry out of
compassion and fear for the dwarf, as the
evening was already growing dusk, and the
objects around were difficult to distinguish.

At this moment the dwarf cast a glance
across the lake, and cried suddenly: ‘ Look,
look, yonder across the lake there stands a
large old tree; let us go there and search ;
perhaps my luck may bloom there.’ The
goose hopped and flew before him, and he
ran after her as quickly as his short legs
would permit him; the chestnut-tree cast
a large shade, and it was so dark around
that scarcely anything could be distinguished ;
but suddenly the goose stopped, flapped her
wings for joy, put her head quickly into the
high grass, and plucked something which
she reached gracefully with her bill to the
astonished Nose, saying, ‘There is the
herb, and plenty is growing here, so that
you will never want for it?

The dwarf looked thoughtfully at the herb,
and a sweet odour arose from it, which im-
mediately reminded him of the scene of his
metamorphosis; the stalk and leaves were
of a bluish green, bearing a glowing red
flower, with a yellow edge.

‘God be praised!’ he now exclaimed,
‘what a miracle! I believe this is the very
174 STORIES FROM HAUFF

herb that transformed me from a squirrel
into this hideous form; shall I make a trial,
to see what effect it will have on me?’

‘Not yet,’ entreated the goose. ‘Takea
handful of this herb with you; let us go to
your room and put up all the money and
whatever you have, and then we will try the
virtue of the herb.’

They did so, and went again to his room,
the dwarf’s heart beating audibly with antici-
pation. After having put up about fifty or
sixty ducats which he had saved, he tied up
his clothes in a bundle, and said: ‘If it
please God, I shall get rid of my burthen-
some deformity.’ He then put his nose
deep into the herb and inhaled its odour.

Now his limbs began to stretch and
crack, he felt how his head started from his
shoulders, he squinted down on his nose and
saw how it became smaller and smaller, his
back and chest became straight, and his legs
longer.

The goose viewed all this with great
astonishment, exclaiming, ‘Ah, what a tall
handsome fellow you have now become.
God be praised, there is no trace left in you
of what you were before.’ Now Jacob was
highly rejoiced; he folded his hands and
prayed. But his joy did not make him for-
get what he owed to Mimi the goose; his
heart indeed urged him to go to his parents,
yet from gratitude he overcame his wish and
NOSE, THE DWARF 175

said, ‘To whom but to you am I indebted
that I am again restored to my former self?
Without you I should never have found this
herb, but should have continued for ever in
that form, or else have died under the axe
of the executioner. Well, I will repay you.
I will bring you back to your father; he
being so experienced in magic will be able
easily to disenchant you.’

The goose shed tears of joy and accepted
his offer. Jacob fortunately escaped un-
known from the palace with his goose, and
started on his way for the sea-coast towards
Mimi’s home.

It is needless to add that their journey
was successful, that Wetterbock disenchanted
his daughter, and dismissed Jacob laden
with presents, that the latter returned to his
native town, that his parents with delight
recognised in the handsome young man their
lost son, that he, with the presents that he
had received, purchased a shop and became
wealthy and happy.

Only this much may be added, that after
his departure from the duke’s palace there
was great consternation, for when, on the
next morning, the duke was about to fulfil
his oath, and to have the dwarf beheaded in
case he had not discovered the herbs, he
was nowhere to be found; and the prince
maintained that the duke had let him escape
secretly rather than lose his best cook, and
176 STORIES FROM HAUFF

accused him of breaking his word of honour.
This circumstance gave rise to a great war
between the two princes, which is well known
in history by the name of the ‘Herb War.’
Many battles were fought, but at length a
peace was concluded, which is now called
the ‘Pie Peace,’ because at the festival of
reconciliation the Souzeraine, queen of pies,
was prepared by the prince’s cook, and
relished by the duke in the highest degree.

Thus the most trifling causes often lead to
the greatest result ; and this, reader, is the
story of ‘Nose, the Dwarf.’

THE END

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