“Thou hast not got it quite right; but since it is thou, Coal-Munk Peter, I will let it pass,” said a gentle, low voice beside him.
He stared about him in amaze, and there, beneath a tall pine, sat a little old man, in black jerkin and red stockings, with the broad, pointed hat on his head. He had a kind, delicately cut face, and a little beard, as soft as a spider’s web; he was smoking, strange to say, a blue glass pipe, and as Peter went nearer, he saw that all his clothes too, and his hat, and his shoes, were made of coloured glass, but it was pliable, as though it were still warm, and fitted like cloth to every turn and movement of the little man’s body.
“Thou hast met that scoundrel, Dutch Michael, then?” said the little man, making an odd, hoarse sound in his throat between almost every word. “He tried to frighten thee badly, but I got his magic whip away from him, and he shall never have it back again!”
“Yea, Master Treasure-keeper,” answered Peter, with a deep bow, “I was dreadfully frightened. But doubtless you were his lordship the hawk, who killed the snake for me. I am very much obliged to you. But I was coming to get some advice from you, for things are going very poorly with me. A charcoal-burner does not get on very well in life, and as I am still young, I thought I might manage to better myself. Specially when I look at others, who seem to have got on so easily. Take fat Ezekiel, or the ‘dancers’ king,’ for instance; with them money is as plentiful as hay.”
“Peter,” said the little man very gravely, and as he spoke he blew the smoke from his pipe far out before him—“Peter, never speak to me of them. What does it advantage them to seem happy here for a few years, and then to be all the more miserable afterwards? Thou must not despise thy calling. Thy father and grandfather were honest folk, and yet they followed the same. Peter Munk, I hope it is not love of idleness that has brought thee to me.”
Peter was alarmed at the little man’s serious tone, and reddened as he answered: “Nay, Master Treasure-keeper, idleness, I know full well, is the beginning of all evil; but you cannot blame me if another calling pleases me better than my own. A charcoal-burner is so very low, you see, and glass-blowers, and raftsmen, and watchmakers are all of more consequence.”
“Pride often goes before a fall,” answered the little master of the forest, rather more kindly. “Ye are a strange race, ye sons of men. You are scarcely ever quite content with the state of life to which you are born and brought up! And what is the use of wishing? Wert thou a glass-maker, thou wouldst wish to be a master woodman; and if that were granted thee, thou wouldst covet the forester’s place, or the Mayor’s house! But let be; if thou wilt promise to work diligently, I will help thee to something better, Peter. I am wont to give every Sunday child that finds its way to me three wishes. The first two are granted without question; the third I can deny if it is a foolish one. So now thou mayst wish for something—but let it be something good and useful, Peter.”
“Hurrah! you are a capital little Glass-man!” shouted Peter, “rightly called the Treasure-keeper, for you have treasures indeed in your hand. And so I may wish for whatever my heart desires? Then I will begin by wishing to dance better than the ‘king of the dancing-floor,’ and always to have as much money in my pocket as fat Ezekiel.”
“Thou fool!” exclaimed the little man angrily. “What a miserable wish is this! To dance well, and to have money for gambling! Art thou not ashamed, foolish Peter, of being so blind to thine own welfare? What use is it to thyself, or thy poor mother, that thou shouldst be able to dance? What use is money, when by thine own wish, it is but to be spent in the tavern, and will stay there, like that of the miserable ‘dancers’ king’? So all the week long thou wilt still have nought, and starve as before. I will give thee one more free wish, but be careful to choose something more sensible.”
Peter scratched his head, and resumed after some hesitation: “Well, then, I will wish for the finest and richest glass-hut in all the Black Forest, with its belongings, and all the money that is needed to carry on the work.”