Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 How the stories were found
 The little glass man
 The story of the caliph stork
 The story of little muck
 Nose, the dwarf
 Back Matter
 Back Cover

Group Title: Kalte Herz.
Title: The Little glass man
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00082323/00001
 Material Information
Title: The Little glass man and other stories
Series Title: Children's library
Uniform Title: Kalte Herz
Physical Description: 176, 7, 1 p., 2 leaves of plates : ill. ; 17 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Hauff, Wilhelm, 1802-1827 ( Author, Primary )
Eckenstein, Lina, d. 1931 ( Author, Secondary )
Cassell Publishing Co ( Publisher )
R. & R. Clark (Firm) ( Printer )
Publisher: Cassell Publishing Company
Place of Publication: New York
Manufacturer: R. & R. Clark
Publication Date: 1893
Subject: 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
Statement of Responsibility: from the German of Wilhelm Hauff ; illustrated.
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.)
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00082323
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002231290
notis - ALH1658
oclc - 06284190

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter 1
        Front Matter 2
    Half Title
        Half Title
    Title Page
        Title Page
    Table of Contents
        Table of Contents
    How the stories were found
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
    The little glass man
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
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        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
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        Page 48
        Page 49
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        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
    The story of the caliph stork
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
    The story of little muck
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 102a
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
    Nose, the dwarf
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
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        Page 170
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        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Advertising 1
        Advertising 2
        Advertising 3
        Advertising 4
        Advertising 5
        Advertising 6
        Advertising 7
        Advertising 8
    Back Matter
        Back Matter
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text



ri *-


f-i; .~V


















AIRY QUEEN sat in her office
drinking afternoon tea. Fairy
Queen, thinking how she could
please children best, had turned
publisher. 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
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
3C B


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.'

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-
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-
SThen 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


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 the moon made herway,
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

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,


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 glasses also 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-
SHere 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

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

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


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

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
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


wonderful wooded hills. I went into a shop
and asked for some writing-paper.
'The gentleman who brought it out had
on 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.
'" I am 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."
'"Look 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."


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.
'"I am glad you will see the old inn


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

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:


HOSE who travel through Swabia
should always remember to cast
a passing glance into the Schwarz-
wald,1 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.


"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 Nagold into the Nreckar, from
thence down the Rhine as far as Holland;
and near the sea the Schwarzwalder 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


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


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;

'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 Sechsbttzner
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


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 Wald, 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


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


as the king of the dancing-room, and could,
like him, throw thalers instead ofkreutzers 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
SKeeper 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


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

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


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 receiving 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


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 described 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


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


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 Schwarzwvlder, 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.


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 I 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

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

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 Schwarzwilders 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

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 seen 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


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-


'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

'I stood upon the brightest place,
I gazed upon the plain,
And then-oh then-I saw that face,
I never saw again.'


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,
'I 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

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 Tannenbtihl. 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.
L. 'Good morning, countryman,' replied


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
'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

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.


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

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
'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


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
'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

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


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 l' 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,
'I 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

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.

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 miller's 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

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

people saw that Peter, as often as he passed
the musicians, threw a six-bitzner 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

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-
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
to me ? Even when I was merely a wretched


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, Little 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.
I'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 red-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

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 garbling 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 hdnd 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


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 fasch, 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 we'll 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

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. f,
Not one star was twinkling in the sky to


lighten Peter's way as he sneaked sadly
towards his home, but still he could distinctly
recognize 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

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 little man has not
helped me, I will now for once try the big
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
'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


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

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 you a 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


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!
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
Rising at these words, he opened the door
of a chamber and took Peter in. 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


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-
This,' replied he, taking out of a small
drawer, and presenting to him-a heart of
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

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 in a 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,

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

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 ennui. 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.


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 Schwarzwlder; 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 ennui. 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


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 ennui, 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


money only at o1 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


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 on a 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 by a 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 Schwarzwilder 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


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.


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


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-
'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-


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

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

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

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.


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
'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

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 on a 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:
SKeeper 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.


'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
'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
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 I he will never give it back,' said
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-

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
'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 ?'


'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
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 I 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

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,
do I 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


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 I 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 her beautiful
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;

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


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!' 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


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.' C. A. F.

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

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. In a 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 a comb. 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


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, 0 Master !' For a long time
he looked at the writing; suddenly, how-
ever, he exclaimed: 'That is Latin, 0
Master, or let me be hung !' Say what it
means,' demanded the Caliph, 'if it is
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

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 thd large gardens of the
Caliph, but looked in vain for any living
thing on which to try the experiment. The


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


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.
Rz'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 a stork than a Caliph. But come, if
it pleases you, let us listen to our comrades
yonder and hear if we really speak
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


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,' he 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 I the magic
word had escaped them, and often as the
Caliph bowed, and eagerly as his Vizier
added Mu-Mu-, yet every recollection of

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-

body shouted: 'Hail, Mizra! the ruler of
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
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.
' 0 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
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

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. In the 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

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