iving with
Balnokhazy, P. C.," while I myself had taken up my abode merely with a
baker.

Baker Fromm was indeed very sorry that we were not dining "at home." At
least they might have left me alone there. That he did not turn to stone
as he uttered these words was not my fault; at least I fixed upon him
such basilisk eyes as I was capable of. What an idea! To refuse a dinner
with my P. C. uncle for his sake! Grandmother, too, discovered that I
also must be presented there.

We ordered a carriage for 1:30; of course we could not with decency go
to the P. C.'s on foot. Grandmother fastened my embroidered shirt under
my waistcoat, and I was vain enough to allow the little pugnose to
arrange my tie. She really could make pretty bows, I thought. As I gazed
at myself in the looking-glass, I found that I should be a handsome boy
when I had put on my silver-buttoned attila.[19] And if only my hair
was curled! Still I was completely convinced that in the whole town
there did not exist any more such silver-buttoned attilas as mine.

[Footnote 19: The coat worn by the hussars, forming part, as it does, of
all real Magyar _levee_ dresses.]

Only it annoyed me to watch the little pugnose careering playfully round
me. How she danced round me, without any attempt to conceal the fact
that I took her fancy; and how that hurt my pride!

At the bottom of the stairs the comical Henrik was waiting for me, with
a large brush in his hand. He assured me that my attila had become
floury--surely from Fanny's apron, for that was always floury--and that
he must brush it off. I only begged him not to touch my collar with the
hair brush; for that a silk brush was required, as it was velvet.

I believe I set some store by the fact that the collar of my attila was
velvet.

From the arched doorway old Marton, too, called after me, as we took our
seats, "Good appetite, Master Sheriff!" and five or six times moved his
cap up and down on the top of his head.

How I should have loved to break his nose! Why is he compromising me
here before my brother? He might know that when I am in full dress I
deserve far greater respect from when he sees me before him in my night
clothes.--But so it is with those whose business lies in flour.

But let us speak no more of bakers; let us soar into higher regions.

Our carriage stopped somewhere in the neighborhood of the House of
Parliament, where there was a two-storied house, in which the P. C.
lived.

The