er of
the back parlour when the evening twilight fell, and they began to feel
terribly eery. Seeing that no candles were brought, as was generally
the case on Christmas Eve, Fritz, whispering in a mysterious fashion,
confided to his young sister (who was just seven) that he had heard
rattlings and rustlings going on all day, since early morning, inside
the forbidden rooms, as well as distant hammerings. Further, that a
short time ago a little dark-looking man had gone slipping and creeping
across the floor with a big box under his arm, though he was well aware
that this little man was no other than Godpapa Drosselmeier. At this
news Marie clapped her little hands for gladness, and cried:

"'Oh! I do wonder what pretty things Godpapa Drosselmeier has been
making for us _this_ time!'

"Godpapa Drosselmeier was anything but a nice-looking man. He was
little and lean, with a great many wrinkles on his face, a big patch of
black plaister where his right eye ought to have been, and not a hair
on his head; which was why he wore a fine white wig, made of glass, and
a very beautiful work of art. But he was a very, very clever man, who
even knew and understood all about clocks and watches, and could make
them himself. So that when one of the beautiful clocks that were in Dr.
Stahlbaum's house was out of sorts, and couldn't sing, Godpapa
Drosselmeier would come, take off his glass periwig and his little
yellow coat, gird himself with a blue apron, and proceed to stick
sharp-pointed instruments into the inside of the clock, in a way that
made little Marie quite miserable to witness. However, this didn't
really hurt the poor clock, which, on the contrary, would come to life
again, and begin to whirr and sing and strike as merrily as ever; which
caused everybody the greatest satisfaction. Of course, whenever he
came he always brought something delightful in his pockets for the
children--perhaps a little man, who would roll his eyes and make bows
and scrapes, most comic to behold; or a box, out of which a little bird
would jump; or something else of the kind. But for Christmas he always
had some specially charming piece of ingenuity provided; something
which had cost him infinite pains and labour--for which reason it was
always taken away and put by with the greatest care by the children's
parents.

"'Oh! what can Godpapa Drosselmeier have been making for us _this_
time.' Marie cried, as we have said.

"Fritz was of opinion that,