There once lived in Rambin an honest, industrious man, named James
Dietrich. He had several children, all of a good disposition, especially
the youngest, whose name was John. John Dietrich was a handsome, smart
boy, diligent at school, and obedient at home. His great passion was for
hearing stories, and whenever he met any one who was well stored he
never let him go till he had heard them all.

When John was about eight years old he was sent to spend a summer with
his uncle, a farmer, in Rodenkirchen. Here John had to keep cows with
other boys, and they used to drive them to graze about the Nine-hills.
There was an old cowherd, one Klas Starkwolt who used frequently to join
the boys, and then they would sit down together and tell stories. Klas
abounded in these, and he became John Dietrich's dearest friend. In
particular, he knew a number of stories of the Nine-hills, and the
underground people in the old times, when the giants disappeared from
the country and the little ones came into the hills. These tales John
swallowed so eagerly that he thought of nothing else, and was for ever
talking of golden cups, and crowns, and glass shoes, and pockets full of
ducats, and gold rings, and diamond coronets, and snow-white brides, and
such like. Old Klas used often to shake his head at him, and say--

"John! John! what are you about? The spade and scythe will be your
sceptre and crown, and your bride will wear a garland of rosemary, and a
gown of striped drill."

Still John almost longed to get into the Nine-hills, for Klas told him
that every one who by luck or cunning should get a cap of the little
ones might go down with safety, and instead of their making a servant of
him, he would be their master. The person whose cap he got would be his
servant, and obey all his commands.