The whole of this little valley belonged to three brothers, called
Schwartz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz and Hans, the two elder brothers,
were very ugly men, with overhanging eyebrows and small, dull eyes,
which were always half shut, so that you couldn't see into _them_, and
always fancied they saw very far into _you_. They lived by farming the
Treasure Valley, and very good farmers they were. They killed everything
that did not pay for its eating. They shot the blackbirds, because they
pecked the fruit; and killed the hedgehogs, lest they should suck the
cows; they poisoned the crickets for eating the crumbs in the kitchen;
and smothered the cicadas, which used to sing all summer in the
lime-trees. They worked their servants without any wages, till they
would not work any more, and then quarrelled with them, and turned them
out of doors without paying them. It would have been very odd, if, with
such a farm, and such a system of farming, they hadn't got very rich;
and very rich they _did_ get. They generally contrived to keep their
corn by them till it was very dear, and then sell it for twice its
value; they had heaps of gold lying about on their floors, yet it was
never known that they had given so much as a penny or a crust in
charity; they never went to mass; grumbled perpetually at paying tithes;
and were, in a word, of so cruel and grinding a temper, as to receive
from all those with whom they had any dealings, the nickname of the
"Black Brothers."

The youngest brother, Gluck, was as completely opposed, in both
appearance and character, to his seniors as could possibly be imagined
or desired. He was not above twelve years old, fair, blue-eyed, and kind
in temper to every living thing. He did not, of course, agree
particularly well with his brothers, or, rather, they did not agree with
_him_. He was usually appointed to the honorable office of turnspit,