"Late one evening, Klaus returned from a distant business tour. Blaessel had not a leg to stand upon, Klaus himself had eaten nothing the whole day, and he was besides parched with thirst. To satisfy the cravings of nature, he stepped, unwillingly enough, into _The Sun_ at _Herwigsdorf_. The parlour was full of boors, one of whom, in a gruff voice, read aloud the Weekly Intelligencer, whilst the rest remarked upon its contents. Klaus edged himself into a corner to avoid observation, and mine host brought him, for his two or three pence, a very melancholy supper. The reading came at length to a close, and the stage then became alive. The farmers discussed and argued the news that had been delivered to them, until they grew very warm, and had exhausted all their eloquence, when they commenced knocking the table with their doubled fists, for want of better arguments. In the height of the dispute, a neighbouring miller--a very learned gentleman--entered the apartment. He was at once unanimously appealed to for a decision, and then nobody would abide by his verdict. A general tumult ensued; in the midst of it, unlucky Klaus was detected, and then politics and the welfare of mankind were immediately lost sight of. "'Devil take me!' cried one, advancing towards the wretched man, 'If there doesn't sit Lying Klaus from _Starving Castle_!' "Klaus was surrounded in an instant. The whole assembly hooted him, and he for shame and rage would gladly have buried himself for ever in the earth. "Well, I will say," continued the unfeeling boor, "the rich Klaus has become the very careful and thrifty. I wonder if the churchwarden means to give him the bell-purse money for ever!"[1] Well, Liar, how gets on the stick trade? Will you soon be able to patch your coat out of your earnings? If you happen now to have a sixpence more than you want, I think we may do a little business together. I have some four-year-old straw that will come in well for your palace. It is eaten away a little by the mice, but that doesn't matter. Why, what are you thinking of, you nincompoop? Don't you know when Klaus wants straw, or money, or an honest name, he has only to go to his couch-grassed stubble-fields, and sneeze three times into the Dwarf's wall, and then he gets directly what he asks for? Who wouldn't have a Dwarf for his godfather! a fellow just three cheeses high, and a fiddle-scrapper A pretty scrape he has made of it for you--only scraped your precious soul into hell, as he would have done if Holy Peter had bound it three times round his key-bit. It is a great pity though, that Dwarf-piper don't fiddle money into his darling's pocket, as well as out of it. Kick the blackguard out, pull his ears for him--I say he isn't honest. He can't be, for he has dealings with the devil!' [1] The churchwardens go about the church during the service, and collect alms from the congregation _in a purse with a bell_.--TRANSLATOR.