sistants were forming every conceivable
kind of cake and bun; piled upon the shelves of the gigantic white oven
the first supply was gradually baking, filling the whole room with a
most agreeable odor.

Master Marton, when he caught sight of me, began to welcome me in a kind
of broken Hungarian "Jo reggelt jo reggelt!"[13]

[Footnote 13: Good morning.]

He had a curious knack of putting the whole of his scalp into motion
whenever he moved his eyebrows up or down; a comical peculiarity of
which he availed himself whenever he wished to make anyone laugh, and
saw that his words did not have the desired effect.

Henrik set to work and competed with the baker's assistants; he was
clever at making dainty little titbits of cakes quite as clever as
anyone there; and pleasure beamed on his face when the old assistant
praised his efforts.

"You see," Marton said to me, "what a ready assistant he would make! In
two years he might be free. But the old man is determined he shall learn
and study; he wants to make a councillor of him." With these words
Marton, by a movement of his eyebrows, sent the whole of the skin on his
head to form a bunch on the crown, for all the world as if it had been a
wig on springs.

"Councillor, indeed! a councillor who gnaws pens when he is hungry!
Thanks; not if they gave me the tower of St. Michael. A councillor, who,
with paper in hand and pen behind ear, goes to visit the bakers in turn,
and weighs their loaves in the balance to see if they are correct
weight."

It seemed that Marton did not take into consideration any other duties
that a councillor might have besides the examining of bakers'
loaves--and that one could hardly gain his approval.

"Yet, if you take a little pains for their sake, you will find them as
gentle as lambs. Give them a 'heitige striozts,'[14] or All Saints Day,
and you will secure your object. Such is Mr. Dintenklek." At this point
Marton could not refrain from breaking out into an unmelodious
"Gassenhauer"[15] the refrain of which was, "Alas! Mr. Dintenklek."

[Footnote 14: A kind of dainty bit suitable to this "holy" occasion.]

[Footnote 15: A popular air sung in the streets.]

Two or three assistants joined in the refrain, of which I did not
understand a word; but as Marton uttered the final words, "Alas Mr.
Dintenklek," his gestures were such as to lead me to suspect that this
Mr. Dintenklek must be some very ridiculous figure in the eye of baker's
assistan