from this locality into their rafts, for the tradition was
current among them that both men and rafts would come to grief if they
were to do so. Therefore, it was that the trees of the Tannenbuehl had
been left to grow so thick and tall that it was almost as dark as night
there on the clearest day; and Peter Muck began to feel rather timid
there, for he heard not a voice, not a step save his own, not even the
ring of an ax, while even the birds appeared to shun these dark
shadows.

Charcoal Pete at last reached the highest point of the Tannenbuehl, and
stood before a pine of enormous girth, for which a ship-builder in
Holland would have given many hundred guldens, delivered at his yard.
"Here," thought he, "the Little Glass-Man would be most likely to
live." So he took off his Sunday hat, made a low bow before the tree,
cleared his throat, and said in a trembling voice: "I wish you a very
good afternoon, Mr. Glass-Man." But there was no answer, and every
thing about was as still as before. "Perhaps I have to speak the verse
first," thought he, and mumbled:

"Schatzhauser im gruenen Tannenwald,
Bist schon viel' hundert Jahre alt,
Dir gehoert all' Land wo Tannen stehn--"

As he spoke these words, he saw, to his great terror, a very small,
strange figure peep out from behind the great tree. To Peter it seemed
to be the Little Glass-Man, just as he had heard him described: a black
jacket, red stockings, a peaked hat with a broad brim, and a pale but
fine and intelligent little face. But alas, as quickly as the Little
Glass-Man had looked around the tree, so quickly had he disappeared
again. "Mr. Glass-Man," cried Peter Munk after a long pause, "be so
kind as not to make a fool of me. Mr. Glass-Man, if you think I didn't
see you, you are very much mistaken. I saw you very plainly when you
looked around the tree." Still no answer; but occasionally Peter
believed he heard a low, amused chuckle behind the tree. Finally his
impatience conquered the fear that had held him back. "Wait, you little
fellow," cried he; "I will soon catch you." With one leap he sprang
behind the tree, but there was no

"Schatzhauser im gruenen Tannenwald,"

and only a small squirrel ran up the tree.

Peter Munk shook his head; he saw that he had the method of conjuration
all right up to a certain point, and that perhaps only another line was
needed to induce the Little Glass-Man to appear. He thought