Gluck summoned all his energies, walked straight up to the
crucible, drew it out of the furnace, and looked in. The gold
was all melted and its surface as smooth and polished as a river,
but instead of reflecting little Gluck's head, as he looked in he
saw, meeting his glance from beneath the gold, the red nose and
sharp eyes of his old friend of the mug, a thousand times redder
and sharper than ever he had seen them in his life.

"Come, Gluck, my boy," said the voice out of the pot again, "I'm
all right; pour me out."

But Gluck was too much astonished to do anything of the kind.

"Pour me out, I say," said the voice rather gruffly.

Still Gluck couldn't move.

"WILL you pour me out?" said the voice passionately. "I'm too
hot."

By a violent effort Gluck recovered the use of his limbs, took
hold of the crucible, and sloped it, so as to pour out the gold.
But instead of a liquid stream there came out, first a pair of
pretty little yellow legs, then some coat tails, then a pair of
arms stuck akimbo, and finally the well-known head of his friend
the mug--all which articles, uniting as they rolled out, stood up
energetically on the floor in the shape of a little golden dwarf
about a foot and a half high.

"That's right!" said the dwarf, stretching out first his legs and