Thus spoke Jacob’s father hastily, hammering at his shoes meanwhile, and drawing out at great length the twine with both hands. Now by degrees light broke on the little dwarf, and he saw what had happened to him, viz., that he had not been dreaming, but had served as a squirrel seven years with the evil fairy. Rage and sorrow filled his heart almost to bursting.
The old witch had robbed him of seven years of his youth, and what had he in exchange? What was it that he could polish slippers of cocoa-nut shell? that he could clean rooms with glass floors? that he had learned all the mysteries of cooking from the guinea-pigs? Thus he stood for some time meditating on his fate, when at length his father asked him—
‘Do you want to purchase anything, young gentleman? Perhaps a pair of new slippers or, peradventure, a case for your nose?’ he added, smiling.
‘What do you mean about my nose?’ asked Jacob; ‘why should I want a case for it?’
‘Why,’ replied the cobbler, ‘every one according to his taste; but I must tell you that if I had such a terrible nose I should have a case made for it of rose-coloured morocco. Look here, I have a beautiful piece that is just the thing; indeed we should at least want a yard for it. It would then be well guarded, my little gentleman; whereas now I am sure you will knock it against every door-post and carriage you would wish to avoid.’
The dwarf was struck dumb with terror; he felt his nose; it was full two hands long, and thick in proportion. So then the old hag had likewise changed his person; and hence it was his mother did not know him, and people called him an ill-favoured dwarf.
‘Master,’ said he, half crying to the cobbler, ‘have you no looking-glass at hand in which I might behold myself?’
‘Young gentleman,’ replied his father gravely, ‘you have not exactly been favoured as to appearance so as to make you vain, and you have no cause to look often in the glass. You had better leave it off altogether. It is with you a particularly ridiculous habit.’
‘Oh! pray let me look in the glass,’ cried the dwarf. ‘I assure you it is not from vanity.’
‘Leave me in peace, I have none in my possession; my wife has a little looking-glass, but I do not know where she has hid it. If you really must look into one,—why then, over the way lives Urban, the barber, who has a glass twice as big as your head; look in there, and now, good morning.’