Peter reached the highest point of the mountain and stood before a pine-tree of tremendous girth, for which a Dutch ship-builder would have given many a hundred florins. “This,” thought he, “must surely be the abode of the Glass-man,” and so he drew his hat from his head, bowed low, and said with a trembling voice:-- “Good-evening, Master Glass-man,” but there was not a sound in reply. “Perhaps I had better try the little verse,” he thought, and began in flattering tones: “Owner of all in the pine woods green, Many a hundred years thou hast seen, Thine all the lands where the pine-trees grow--” As he spoke he saw to his terror a strange little figure peeping out from behind the big tree trunk. It seemed to be dressed exactly as he had heard in the black vest, red stockings, and pointed hat. Even the pale, clever little face he seemed to see for a moment; but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. “Master Glass-man,” cried Peter in trembling tones, “I pray you do not make sport of me. If you think I did not see you you are mistaken.” But there was no reply, beyond a faint chuckle from behind the tree. At length his impatience overcame his fear--“Wait awhile, my fine fellow,” he cried angrily, “I will soon catch you.” He made a bound towards the tree and darted round to the other side. But there was no Glass-man there, only a dainty little squirrel that scampered up the trunk of the tree. Peter Munk shook his head. He perceived clearly that his failure was on account of his not knowing the concluding line of the verse, but ponder as he might he could not call it to memory. The squirrel showed itself upon the lower branches of the pine-tree and appeared to mock and make sport of him. It dressed its fur, waved its bushy tail, gazed at him with its bright clever eyes, but at length he was half afraid of it, for one moment it seemed to have a man’s head and to wear a pointed hat, the next moment it was like any ordinary squirrel, then suddenly its hind legs became clothed with red stockings and black shoes. In short it was quite the strangest little creature Peter Munk had ever seen and he was afraid of it, and so he turned and left the spot quicker than he had gone there. It seemed to him that the woods grew darker and thicker as he ran, until he became possessed of an absolute terror, and it was not until he heard the barking of dogs in the distance that he slackened his pace, then, as a peasant’s hut burst on his astonished gaze, he found that in his fright he had been running in the opposite direction to that which he had intended, and instead of arriving at the dwellings of the glass-makers he had come out amongst the wood-cutters and raftsmen. The people who lived in this particular cottage were wood-cutters, and the family consisted of an old man, his son, the master of the house, and his family.