"'Yes! What, have you never heard of the Spirits and Dwarfs who, for thousands of years, have carried on their precious games in all kinds of underground pits and holes? Now, take my word for it, he has something to do with them. Klaus is just the fellow for the rogues. They make choice of a king once every fifty years--one of flesh and blood, like ourselves. His majesty must be shaped like a dwarf--that's quite necessary; but when he is lifted to the throne, the creatures heap upon him all sorts of wondrous gifts. They teach him to play the fiddle, flute, and clarinet like an angel. They put him up to the art of manufacturing wonderful clocks--of eclipsing the sun and moon, and all that kind of thing. They once had a dwarf king, a shoemaker, and that fellow never had his equal. Whenever he took it into his head, he would sit down, call for seventy thousand skins, and then set to work. How long do you suppose he was getting them out of hand? Why, in just one hour and a half the whole stock was manufactured. Shoes, gaiters, spatterdashes, jack-boots and bluchers for five hundred thousand men, and all their wives and children. You may believe it. There never was a chap that flung the things about as he did. And you may take my word for it, Klaus Stringstriker could do something too, if he chose. Why do you think he is so insolent and conceited, and presumes so much upon his playing and smoking? Why--just because these little earthmen are his familiars, and back him up in every thing!' "'Oh, that's it--is it?' said Simon dryly. 'Klaus is King of the Dwarfs, is he? Then if that's the case, he shall perform a trick for us directly. Now I give you all warning, young and old, not to stop his pipe, or fill his glass again, till he fiddles himself into a fit, and glass and pipe replenish themselves!' "Klaus remonstrated against the proceeding--but the guests were brimful of fun and mischief, and wouldn't listen to him. It was evident that nothing would satisfy the company but the exhibition of the misery to which they resolved to subject the unhappy knave forthwith. The Dwarf implored, threatened, cursed; he struck about him like a madman, screamed, roared, and struggled to escape; all in vain. The untractable little fellow was held fast, and then, amidst the jokes and gibes of the assembly, securely tied, with his fiddle in his hand, against the roof-tree of the room. Once pinned, there was no use in further resistance. The poor deformed creature had nothing better to do than to play, as commanded.