Little Hans and his mother were standing down by the Mummelsee. It was a big round sheet of water, surrounded by rocky slopes. On these grew dark pine trees, which cast their shadows far out into the water.

The water lay quietly sleeping in its dark bed. The stillness made little Hans thoughtful, and he crept close to his mother.

“Why is the water so still?” he whispered; “and the fish,—where are they?”

“Listen,” answered his mother, “and I will tell you a story. There are no longer any fish in the Mummelsee; they left it many, many years ago. The place is haunted by Mummel, a great water god, and by his daughters, the beautiful water sprites.

“Long years ago,” the mother went on, “a man committed a great crime in order that he might get a rich treasure. In his flight he came to the Mummelsee. He could not swim across with the bag of treasure! What should he do? He knew that he would be caught unless he did something at once.

“‘Ah! I will just drop it into the edge of the lake,’ he said to himself. ‘The water is dark and no one will be able to find the Treasure. I will hide myself in the thick bushes, and there I will be safe also.’

“He crawled into the bushes where they were thickest. But something was wrong; the bushes seemed like so many hands, that caught hold of him, and held him fast. He could not move. He struggled and struggled, but the more he fought against them, the more firmly they held on.“He gave up the struggle, and lay quiet, looking out upon the dark water. He saw something that was still more strange. What could it be? It looked like the form of a giant rising from the water. The face was sterner than any he had ever seen.”

“What was it, mother?” asked little Hans; “was it a ghost?”

“It was Mummel, the great angry god, who haunts the lake. He had never allowed his peace to be disturbed in the slightest way. No one could throw even a pebble into the lake without being punished by him.

“Now he rose out of the water; and seized the frightened man. The bushes let go their hold on him as if by magic; and, without saying a word the stern god began to sink down, down into the cold, black water.”

“Oh,” cried Hans, “was the man drowned?”

“No,” answered his mother, “he was not drowned. The great god drew him down, down to the bottom of the lake, where he has a wonderful palace. In it there are all kinds of strange creatures.”

“But what does the man do down there? Is he still alive?”

“Yes; Mummel will not let him die; but keeps him, and makes him serve in the kitchen year after year.”

“And does he not have any rest or any holidays?”

“He does not need rest down there, because he is no longer mortal like us. But once a year he ceases, for a single night, to serve in the kitchen. He becomes a mortal again and comes back to earth.

“Every year on the day on which he committed his crime, he puts on his earthly clothes and comes up. And when he reaches the world, he suddenly finds himself at the place where he stole the treasure.