“But there is only one buckle,” says the master shoemaker.
“Tut!” says the fiddler, “turn no hairs grey for that, brother. Just tell the princess that the fiddler has the other, and matters will be as smooth as cream.”
Well, the master shoemaker did as the fiddler said, and you may guess how the princess opened her pretty eyes when she heard that her sweetheart was thereabouts. Nothing would suit her but that she must see that journeyman shoemaker. But when they sent to fetch him, he was gone.
And now the shoemaker and the tinker began to talk again; the princess had been promised to the man who saved her from the troll, and so she must and should choose one of them. But no; the princess was not ready yet; she would never marry till she had a pair of gloves of the finest silk, all embroidered with silver and pearls and with a ruby clasp at the wrist of each.
And now came the same dance with a different tune, for nobody was to be found in all of the town who could make such a pair of gloves as she wanted. By and by the matter came to the fiddler’s ears, and off he set to the glover’s shop. And did the glover want an apprentice?
Yes, the glover wanted an apprentice, but he must know first what the other could do.
“Well,” said the fiddler, “if I have a room all to myself, I can make a pair of gloves such as the princess asks for.” And after that he was not left to kick his toes in the cold.
As soon as he was alone, he drew out his fiddle and struck up an air, and there stood the little black man again.
“I would like,” said the fiddler, “to have a pair of gloves such as the princess asks for. But there must be only one clasp to the wrist, and that made all of pure rubies.” That is what he said, and there were the gloves without his having to ask twice for them.
“But there is only one clasp,” said the glover.