"Guardian of gold in the pine-tree wold.
Art many hundred ages old;
Lord of all lands where pine trees grow,
Thee only Sunday's children know."
And then the Glassmanikin appeared, but not friendly and cordial as before, but sad and mournful. He was clad in a little coat of black glass, and a long mourning band trailed from his hat; and Peter knew well enough for whom he mourned.
"What do you want with me, Peter Munk?" he asked in a hollow voice.
"I have still one wish left, Master Guardian," replied Peter, casting down his eyes.
"Can stone-hearts wish for anything?" said the other. "You have everything that your evil mind desired; and I shall be very reluctant to grant you anything."
"But you promised me three wishes; and one of them still remains to me."
"But I can reject it, if it is foolish," the forest spirit replied. "Yet, speak out, I will listen to what you have to say."
"Then take this dead stone away, and give me my living heart," said Peter.
"Did I make the bargain with you?" the Glassmanikin demanded. "Am I Dutch Michael, who gives away riches and cold hearts? To him you must go if you want your own heart again."
"Alas, he will never give it back to me," answered Peter, dejectedly.