ts.

"Why, of course, Henrik must learn law. The old man says he, too, might
have become a councillor if he had concluded his studies at school.
What a blessing he did not. As it is, he almost murders us with his
learning. He is always showing off how much Latin he knows. Yes, the old
man Latinizes."

As he said this Marton could scarcely control the skin of his head, so
often did he have to twitch his eyebrows in order to express the above
opinion, which he held about his master's pedantry.

Then with a sudden suspicion he turned to me:

"You don't wish to be a councillor, I suppose?"

I earnestly assured him that, on the contrary, I was preparing for a
vacancy in the county.

"Oho! lieutenant-governor? That is different, quite another thing;
travelling in a coach. No putting on of mud boots when it is muddy. That
I allow." And, in order to show how deep a respect he bore towards my
presumptive office position, he drew his eyebrows up so high that his
cap fell back upon his neck.

"Enough of dough-kneading for the present, Master Henrik. Go back to
your room and write out your 'pensum,' for you will again be forbidden
breakfast, if it is not ready."

Henrik did not listen to him, but worked away for all the world as if he
was not being addressed.

Meanwhile Marton was cutting a large piece of dough into bits of exactly
equal size, out of which the "Vienna" rolls were to be formed. This
delicate piece of work needs an accurate eye to avoid cheating either
one's master or the public.

"You see, he is at home here; he does not want his books. And there is
nothing more beautiful, more refined than our art; nothing more
remunerative; we deal with the blessing of God, for we prepare the daily
bread. The Lord's Prayer includes the baker, 'Give us this day our daily
bread.' Is there any mention anywhere of butchers, of tailors or of
cobblers? Well, does anyone pray for meat, for coats, or for books? Let
me hear about him. But they do pray for their daily bread, don't they?
And does the prayer-book say anything concerning councillors? What? Who
knows anything on that score?"

Some young assistant interrupted: "Why, of course, 'but deliver us from
the evil one.'"

This caused everybody to laugh; it caused Henrik to spoil his buns,
which had to be kneaded afresh. He was annoyed by the idea that he had
learned all he had merely in order to be ridiculed here in the bakery.

"Ha, yes," remarked Master Marton, smilin