There came the Hippopotamus, A sort of river-bottom-horse, Sneezing, snorting, blowing water From his nostrils, and around him Grazing up the grass--confound him! Every mouthful a huge slaughter! Beetle, grasshopper, and May-fly, From his muzzle must away fly, Or he swallowed them by legions, His huge foot, it was a pillar; When he drank, it was a swiller! Soon a desert were those regions. But the grasshoppers so gallant Called to arms each nimble callant, With their wings, and stings, and nippers, Bee, and wasp, and hornet, awful; Gave the villain such a jawful, That he slipped away in slippers! "Ha! ha!--slipped down into the mud that he emerged from!" cried Hans, and, seizing his fiddle, dashed off the Hippopotamus in a style that did him a world of good, and makes us wish that we had the musical notes of it. Then he fell to, and day and night he wrought. Work came; it was done. He wanted little--a crust of bread and a merry tune were enough for him. His money grew; the sum was nearly accomplished, when, returning one evening from carrying out some work--behold! his door was open! Behold! the lid of his pot where he deposited his treasure was off! The money was gone! This was a terrible blow. Hans raised a vast commotion. He did not even fail to insinuate that it might be the interloper opposite--the Hippopotamus. Who so likely as he, who had his eye continually on Hans's door? But no matter--the thief was clear off; and the only comfort he got from his neighbors, was being rated for his stinginess. "Ay," said they, "this comes of living like a curmudgeon, in a great house by yourself, working your eyes out to hoard up money. What must a young man like you do with scraping up pots full of money, like a miser? It is a shame!--it is a sin!--it is a judgment! Nothing better could come of it. At all events, you might afford to have a light burning in the house. People are ever likely to rob you. They see a house as dark as an oven; they see nobody in it; they go in and steal; nobody can see them come out--and that is just it. But were there a light burning, they would always think there was somebody in. At all events, you might have a light." "There is something in that," said Hans. He was not at all unreasonable: so he determined to have a light in future: and he fell to work again.