e giants of fairy lore. Some of them
belonged to this firm exclusively, others to a corporation of porters
who worked for different houses, but T. O. Schroeter's was the house they
liked best. For more than one generation the head of this particular
firm had enjoyed their highest consideration, and stood godfather to all
their large-headed babies.

Among these men, the strongest and tallest was Sturm, their chief--a man
who could hardly get through narrow streets, and was frequently called
to move a weight found impracticable by his comrades. Wonderful stories
were told of his exploits; and Specht affirmed that there was nothing on
earth beyond his powers.

His relations with the firm were very intimate indeed; and having an
only child, upon whom he doted, and who had early lost his mother, he
placed him, at the age of fifteen, in T. O. Schroeter's house, in a
nondescript capacity. The boy was a universal favorite, knew every hole
and corner, collected all the nails and pieces of packthread, folded all
the packing-paper, fed Pluto the watch-dog, and did sundry other odd
jobs. Up to every thing, invariably good-humored and ready-witted, the
porters fondly called him "our Karl;" and his father often glanced aside
from his work to look at him with delight.

But in one point Karl did disappoint him: he gave no promise of ever
attaining to his father's stature. He was a handsome, fair-haired,
rosy-cheeked youth; but all the giants agreed that he would never be
more than a middle-sized man; and so his father fell into the habit of
treating him like a sort of delicate dwarf, with the utmost
consideration, and a certain touch of compassion.

"I don't care," said the indulgent parent to Mr. Pix, when introducing
the boy into the business, "what the little fellow learns besides, so
that he does learn to be honorable and practical." This was a speech
after Mr. Pix's own heart; and this system of education was at once
begun by Sturm taking his son into the great vaulted room, and saying,
"Here are the almonds and the raisins--taste them."

"Oh, they are good, father," cried the boy.

"I believe you, Liliputian," nodded Sturm. "Now, see, you may eat as
many of them as you like; neither Mr. Schroeter, Mr. Pix, nor I shall
interfere. But, my little lad, you had better see how long you can hold
out without beginning. The longer the better for yourself, and the more
honor in it; and when you can stand it no longer, come to me and