'You have not quite hit it,' said a delicate fine voice near him, 'but as it is you, Peter, I will not be particular.' Astonished he looked round, and lo! under a beautiful pine there sat a little old man in a black jacket, red stockings, and a large hat on his head. He had a tiny affable face and a little beard as fine as a spider's web; and strange to see, he was smoking a pipe of blue glass. Nay, Peter observed to his astonishment, on coming nearer, that the clothes, shoes, and hat of the little man were also of coloured glass, which was as flexible as if it were still hot, bending like cloth to every motion of the little man. 'You have met the lubber Michel, the Dutchman?' asked the little man, laughing strangely between each word. 'He wished to frighten you terribly; but I have got his magic cudgel, which he shall never have again.' 'Yes, Mr. Schatzhauser,' replied Peter, with a profound bow, 'I was terribly frightened. But I suppose the black cock was yourself, and I am much obliged to you for killing the serpent. The object of my visit to you, however, is to ask your advice; I am in very poor circumstances, for charcoal-burning is not a profitable trade; and being still young I should think I might be made something better, seeing so often as I do how other people have thriven in a short time; I need only mention Hezekiel, and the king of the dancing-room, who have money like dirt.' 'Peter,' said the little man gravely, blowing the smoke of his pipe a long way off, 'don't talk to me of these men. What good have they from being apparently happy for a few years here, and the more unhappy for it afterwards? you must not despise your trade; your father and grandfather were honest people, Peter Munk, and they carried on the same trade. Let me not suppose it is love of idleness that brings you to me.' Peter was startled at the gravity of the little man, and blushed. 'No, Mr. Schatzhauser,' said he; 'idleness is the root of every vice, but you cannot blame me, if another condition pleases me better than my own. A charcoal-burner is, in truth, a very mean personage in this world; the glass manufacturer, the raftsmen, and clock-makers, are people much more looked upon.'