“Over the hills yonder,” replied the apprentice pointing, but when he turned round again the fairies’ cobbler was nowhere to be seen. On the instant he felt himself pelted by a shower of acorns from above, and looking up he saw a squirrel, perched among the oak boughs overhead.
“You are a fine fellow for letting your opportunities slip,” said the squirrel; “do you not know that when you meet the fairies’ cobbler you should never take your eyes off him for a moment? So long as you keep on looking at him, he is bound to give you whatever you may ask, though you should demand of him all the crocks of gold in Fairyland, but he will try to startle or deceive you, and then your chance is lost.”
“I will remember your good advice another time,” said the apprentice, and he went on into the wood. At sunset he came to another glade, and there he once more caught sight of the fairies’ cobbler, seated upon a tree-stump.
“This time you shall not escape me,” he cried, and fixing his eyes upon the mannikin he repeated his request, “I pray you, teach me my trade.”
“The cobbler’s craft is not an easy one,” replied the little man surlily, “the fairies dance so much and so often that it is all I can do to keep them in shoes. Only look at this pair now—it was new at moonrise.”
“They are indeed much worn,” said the apprentice, but even as he spoke he became aware that the fairies’ cobbler had once more disappeared. The next moment he heard a soft chuckle behind him, and looking round he noticed a large white owl perched upon a bush hard by.
“He had you that time,” said the owl; “why ever did you look down at the shoes? The safest way to make sure of the fairies’ cobbler is to steal up from behind and catch hold of him, and should he seem unwilling to grant your request you have but to hold him over running water, and he will give you all you ask.”
“I will remember your good advice another time,” said the apprentice, and he went further into the wood. Now after a while he heard the sound of a waterfall, and came upon yet another glade that lay all silvered in the light of the moon, and he was just debating within himself whether this were not a good place in which to spend the night, when for the third time he caught sight of the fairies’ cobbler, seated upon a toadstool. Softly he crept up behind him, and took hold of the mannikin firmly by the lappets of his green coat.
“You shall not escape me again,” said he.
“That is as may be,” quoth the fairies’ cobbler morosely; “pray what reason is there that I should teach the tricks of my trade to a mortal?”