“Hear what he’s trying to make you believe,” said the sparrow. “You mustn’t give heed to him; he is one who is always coming down. He who would rise in the world must have no fears.” The boy intended to remember this good advice but as he saw the brightly-lighted windows of the miller’s house he thought: “Now they sit within by the warm stove having Christmas.” It was not long before they were in the city. There stood high houses, crowded so close together that the street could scarcely pass through, and the little fellow was afraid. Sometimes his mother had taken him with her to the city, but that had always been in bright day. He had never wanted to wander about the streets alone; he would rather be where the leaves rustled and the birds sang. Now all the windows were bright and behind the polished panes stood the loveliest things. Along the footpaths hurried many people, all carrying packages and bundles under their arms. Fortunately there were no more wagons, so Friedel chose the street. But even there he was not safe. First a fat woman crossed over the way; she carried on either side a great pack, puffed like an old steam engine, and gave him such a shove that he fell to the ground—and his horse too. But he stood up quickly and helped Huppdiwupp to his feet. “One mustn’t make anything of that,” said the sparrow; “that happens every day. But there come some dangerous fellows; we must pass them very cautiously.” But this didn’t happen. Three street urchins came along who could see more with one eye than ten men with two. The first two seized Friedel by the jacket and the third planted himself impudently in front of the boy and said: “You wooden-shoe fellow, are you taking your horse to the blacksmith? You can get it done cheaper here; we’ll shoe him for nothing.” “That’s not necessary,” said Friedel, “I wish to sell him.” Then the three shouted and the boldest one began to talk again: “Listen, you, you can’t sell your horse; we won’t have it. Give it to me and I won’t tell that you stole it.” And then he reached out for the bridle and tried to snatch away from the boy the only thing that he owned. Then the sparrow whispered: “Take off your wooden shoe and give him one on the head.” Friedel thought this good advice and followed it. There began a great battle, and even though there were three of the others they lacked a weapon and got many blows. Perhaps it might have gone badly with the boy at the end, but like thunder and lightning a man came between them. He had a polished helmet on his head and a sword at his side; under his nose he wore an enormous mustache which always trembled as though in fear of the frightful words that flew past it. He shouted: “Separate, you boys! keep the peace or I’ll pepper and salt your backs! Who started this?” “He!” cried the three, as one mouth. “No, they!” peeped the sparrow; but no one heard him.