Da hab' ich sie gesehen
Zum allerletzten Mal."

That struck Peter's ear instantly, and springing up he rushed hastily
out of the house, ran after the three men, and seized the singer
roughly by the arm. "Stop, friend," cried he, "what was your rhyme for
_stehen_? Be so kind as to recite what you sang."

"What's the trouble with you, young fellow?" retorted the singer. "I
can sing what I please, so let go of my arm, or----"

"No, you must tell me what you sang!" shouted Peter, taking a firmer
grip on his arm. The two others did not hesitate long on seeing this
but fell upon Peter with their hard fists and gave him such a beating
that he was forced to let go his hold on the first man and sank
exhausted to his knees. "You have got your share now," said they
laughing, "and mind you, stupid fellow, never to jump upon people again
on the highway."

"Oh, I will surely take care!" replied Charcoal Pete sighing; "but now
that I have had the blows, be so good as to tell me plainly what it was
that man sang."

They began to laugh again, and made sport of him; but the one who had
sung the song repeated it to him, and laughing and singing they
continued on their way.

"Also _gesehen_," said the beaten one, as he raised himself up with
some difficulty; "_gesehen_ rhymes with _stehen_. Now then, Little
Glass-Man, we will speak a word together." He went back to the hut,
took his hat and stick, and bade farewell to the inmates of the hut,
and started on his way back to the Tannenbuehl.

He walked on slowly and thoughtfully, for he had a line to make up;
finally as he came into the neighborhood of the Tannenbuehl, and the
pines grew taller and thicker, he had completed the verse, and in his
joy made a leap into the air. Just then appeared a man of giant size,
who held in his hand a pole as long as a ship's mast. Peter's courage
failed him as he saw this giant walking along very slowly near him;
for, thought he, that is none other than Dutch Michel. But the giant
remained silent, and Peter occasionally took a half-frightened look at
him. He was fully a head taller than the largest man Peter had ever
seen; his face was neither young nor old, and yet full of lines; he
wore a linen jacket, and the enormous boots drawn over the leather
breeches, Peter recognized from the legend he had heard the night
before.

"Peter Munk, what are you doing in the Tannenbuehl?" inquired the King
of the Wood, in a deep threateni