re money than his poor father had been able to
earn in a year.

There were three of these men in particular of whom he could not say
which he admired the most. One was a big, fat, red-faced man, generally
conceded to be the richest person in those parts. He was called Fat
Ezekiel. Twice a year he travelled to Amsterdam with building timber,
and always had the good fortune to dispose of it at so much better
profit than his comrades could, that he was able to travel homewards in
luxurious style, while they were compelled to return on foot.

The second was the tallest and lankiest fellow in the whole forest. He
was called Lanky Schlurker, and Munk envied him because of his
extraordinary boldness. He would flatly contradict the most worthy
people, and always took up more room in the overcrowded tavern than was
required by four others of the bulkiest, leaning with both elbows on
the table, or stretching his legs along the bench; yet nobody dared to
complain, for he was fabulously rich.

The third was a handsome young man, the best dancer for miles round,
who had earned the nickname of the Dance King. He had formerly been a
poor man in the service of a wealthy timber merchant; but all at once
he had become immensely rich. Some said that he had found a jar, full
of money, at the root of an old pine tree; others maintained that not
far from Bingen on the Rhine he had brought up with his pole, such as
the raftsmen use to spear fish, a bundle filled with gold, and that
this bundle had formed part of the great Nibelung's hoard which lies
buried there. But no matter--the fact was that he had suddenly become
rich, and was consequently respected by young and old as if he had been
a prince.

The charcoal-burner, Peter Munk, thought long and oft of these men as
he sat alone among the pine-trees. All three of them had one great
failing which made them hated by all; and this common failing was
their inhuman avarice, their callousness towards debtors and the poor,
for the Black-foresters were a kindly and good-hearted people.
Nevertheless, as is often found in such cases, though they were hated
because of their covetousness, they were held in awe because of their
money; for who but they could fling thalers broadcast as though by
simply shaking the pine-trees the money fell into their hands.

"I cannot endure this any longer!" said Peter to himself, sorely
depressed, one day when there had been a fete, and the people had
foregathered