p with him, cursing and muttering threats the
while. On coming to the ditch, the lad made a desperate leap, for he
perceived that the demon had raised his staff to crush him with it.
Luckily he managed to jump the ditch, and as he did so the staff flew
into splinters as though it had struck against an invisible wall, while
a large piece of it fell at Peter's feet.

He seized it, turning triumphantly to hurl it at the brutal Dutch
Michael; but, in the same moment, he felt the wood moving in his hand,
and discovered to his horror that he had hold of a huge snake, which
was rearing its head at him with venomous tongue and glittering eyes.
He loosened his grasp of it; but it had already entwined itself about
his arm, bringing its swaying head nearer and nearer to his face. Then,
in a flash, a monstrous woodcock swept down from above, seized the
snake in its beak, and bore it aloft in the air. Dutch Michael, who had
been watching the scene from the further side of the ditch, howled and
shouted and raved as he saw the snake overpowered by this powerful
antagonist.

[Illustration: "Then, in a flash, a monstrous woodcock swept down from
above and seized the snake in its beak."]

Exhausted and trembling, Peter pursued his way; the path grew steeper,
the scene ever wilder, until he found his way blocked by a huge
pine-tree.

Bowing low towards the invisible Glassmanikin, just as he had done the
day before, he began:

"Guardian of all in the pine-tree wold,
Art many hundred ages old,
Lord of all lands where pine-trees grow,
Thee only Sunday's children know."

"You haven't quite hit it, Charcoal-Peter; but as it is yourself, we
will let it pass," said a soft clear voice close by him. He turned
round in amazement; and there, under a splendid pine-tree, he saw a
little, old manikin, clad in black jerkin and red stockings, and with a
large hat on his head. He had a delicate friendly little face and
beard, the latter as fine as a spider's web. And what was the more
wonderful, he was smoking a pipe of blue glass; and Peter, on going
nearer was astounded to see that the little man's clothes, shoes and
hat were also made of coloured glass; yet it was as pliant as if still
molten, for it folded and creased like cloth with every movement of the
little body.

"So you have just met that vagabond, Dutch Michael," said the manikin,
with an odd wheeze between each word. "He tried to give you a good
fright; but I