The Little Glass Man, and Other Stories

by Wilhelm Hauff

‘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 proceed 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 Unterwald. 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, however, 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 Tannenbühl 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 fantastic 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-bätzner 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 ‘emperor of the dancing-room.’ The most daring gamblers did not stake so much as he did on a Sunday, neither did they, however, 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 workmen.

Walking homewards one evening from the public-house, he could not, in spite of the quantity of wine he had drunk to make himself 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 reminded him of his ingratitude and folly. Soon, however, he silenced his conscience, saying: ‘Should they sell my glass, manufactory 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 gambling 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.’