Claus was, and then he stopped in front of him. "Do you want to take
service, my friend?" said he.

Yes, that was what Claus wanted; why else should he stand in the
market-place with a straw in his mouth?

Well, they bargained and bargained, and talked and talked, and the end
of the matter was that Claus agreed to sell his services to the old
master of black-arts for seven pennies a week. So they made their
bargain, and off went the master with Claus at his heels. After they had
come a little distance away from the crowd at the marketplace, the
master of black-arts asked Claus where he had got that fine staff of
hazel.

[Illustration: Claus and the Master of Black-Arts]

"Oh, I got it over yonder," said Claus, pointing with his thumb.

But could he find the place again?

Well, Claus did not know how about that; perhaps he could, and perhaps
he could not.

But suppose that Claus had a thaler in his hand, _then_ could he find
the place again?

Oh yes; in that case Claus was almost sure that he could find the place
again.

So good. Then here was a bottle of yellow water. If Claus would take the