not let you look in my glass."

The barber's speech was followed by shouts of laughter that fairly
shook the shop. Jacob, in the meantime, had approached the mirror and
looked at his reflection in the glass. Tears came into his eyes. "Yes,
surely you could not recognize your little Jacob, dear mother," thought
he. "He did not look thus in those joyful days when you paraded with
him before the people!" His eyes had become small, like those of the
pigs; his nose was monstrous, and hung down over his mouth and chin;
the neck seemed to have entirely disappeared, as his head sank deeply
into his shoulders, and it was only with the greatest effort that he
could move it to the right or left. His body was still of the same
height as seven years before; but what others gain from the twelfth to
the twentieth year in height, he made up in breadth. His back and
breast were drawn out rounding, so as to present the appearance of a
small but closely-packed sack. This stout, heavy trunk was placed on
thin, weak legs that did not seem able to support the weight. But still
larger were his arms; they were as large as those of a full-grown man;
his hands were rough, and of a yellowish-brown; his fingers long and
spindling, and when he stretched them down straight he could touch the
ground with their tips without stooping. Such was the appearance of
little Jacob, who had grown to be a misshapen dwarf.

He recalled now the morning on which the old woman had come up to his
mother's baskets. Every thing that he had criticised about her--the
long nose, the ugly fingers, every thing, she had inflicted on him;
only the long trembling neck she had left out entirely.

"Well, have you seen enough of yourself, my prince?" said the barber,
stepping towards him with a laugh. "Really, if one were to try and
dream of any thing like it, it would not be possible. For I will make
you a proposal, my little man. My barber shop is certainly well
patronized, but not so well as it used to be, which results from the
fact that my neighbor, Barber Schaum, has somewhere picked up a giant,
who serves to allure customers to his shop. Now, to grow a giant no
great art is required; but to produce a little man like you is quite
another matter. Enter my service, little man; you shall have food,
drink and lodging--every thing; for all which you shall stand outside
of my door mornings, and invite the people to come in; you shall make
the lather, and hand the customers the