Although the evil hag had thus stunted his growth, yet she had had no power to affect his mind, as he felt full well; for he no longer thought and felt as he did seven years since, and believed that he had become wiser and more sensible in the interval. He did not mourn for the loss of his beauty, nor for his ugly appearance, but only that he was driven from his father's door like a dog. However, he resolved to make another trial with his mother. He went again to her in the market, and entreated her to listen to him patiently. He reminded her of the day on which he had gone with the old woman; he called to her mind all the particular incidents of his childhood, told her then how he had served seven years as a squirrel with the fairy, and how she had changed him because he had then ridiculed her person. The cobbler's wife did not know what to think of all this. All that he related of his childhood agreed with her own recollections, but when he talked of serving seven years as a squirrel she said, 'It is impossible; there are no fairies;' and when she looked at him she felt a horror at the ugly dwarf, and would not believe that he could be her son. At length she thought it would be best to talk the matter over with her husband; therefore she took up her baskets and bade him go with her. On arriving at the cobbler's stall she said: 'Look, this fellow pretends to be our lost Jacob. He has told me all the circumstances; how he was stolen from us seven years since, and how he was enchanted by a fairy.' 'Indeed,' interrupted the cobbler in a rage, 'has he told you this? wait, you rogue!--I have told him all this an hour ago, and then he goes to make a fool of you. Enchanted you have been, my little chap, have you? Wait a bit, I will soon disenchant you!' So saying, he took a bundle of straps that he had just cut, jumped up towards the dwarf, and beat him on his humped back and his long arms, making the little fellow scream with pain and run away crying. Now in that town, as in others, there were but few of those compassionate souls who will support a poor unfortunate man who has a ridiculous appearance. Hence it was that the unlucky dwarf remained all day without food, and was obliged in the evening to choose for his night's quarters the steps of a church, though they were hard and cold. When on the following morning the first rays of the sun awoke him, he began seriously to think how he should earn his livelihood, now that his father and mother had repudiated him; he was too proud to serve as a signboard to a barber; he would not hire himself as a merry-andrew to be exhibited: what then should he do? It now occurred to him that as a squirrel he had made considerable progress in the culinary art, and thought he might justly expect to prove a match for any cook; he therefore resolved to turn his art to advantage.