obtain their money!"

There were two Forest spirits, of whom Peter had heard, that were
said to help those who sought them to riches and honor. One was
Glassmanikin, a good little dwarf; and the other was Michael the
Dutchman,--dark, dangerous, terrible, and powerful,--a giant ghost.

Peter had heard that there was a magic verse, which, were he to
repeat it alone in the forest, would cause the benevolent dwarf,
Glassmanikin, to appear. Three of the lines were well known,--

"O treasure-guarder, 'mid the forests green,
Many, full many a century hast thou seen:
Thine are the lands where rise the dusky pine--"

He did not know the last line, and, as he was but a poor poet, he
was unable to make a line to fill the sense, metre, and rhyme.

He inquired of the Black Foresters about the missing line, but they
only knew as much as he, else many of them would have called the
fairy banker to their own service.

One day, as he was alone in the forest, he resolved to repeat, over
and over, the magic lines, hoping that the fourth line would in some
way occur to him.

"O treasure-guarder, 'mid the forests green,
Many, full many a century hast thou seen:
Thine are the regions of the dusky pine."

As he said these words he saw, to his astonishment, a little fellow
peep around the trunk of a tree; but, as the fourth line did not
come to him, Mr. Glassmanikin disappeared.

Peter went home, with his mind full of visions. Oh, that he were a
poet! He consulted the oldest wood-cutters, but none of them could
supply the missing line.

Soon after, Peter again went into the deep forest, his brain aching
for a rhyme with _pine_. As he was hurrying along, a gigantic man,
with a pole as big as a mast over his shoulder, appeared from behind
the pine-trees. Peter was filled with terror, for he felt that it
was none other than the giant-gnome, Michael the Dutchman.

[Illustration: PETER IN THE FOREST.]

"Peter Munk, what doest thou here?" he thundered.

"I want to pass this road on business," said Peter, in increasing
alarm.

"Thou liest. Peter, you are a miserable wight, but I pity you. You
want money. Accept my _conditions_, and I will help you. How many
hundred thalers do you want?"

"Thanks, sir; but I'll have no dealings with you: I am afraid of
your _conditions_. I have heard of you already."

Peter began to run.

The gia