minate fashion, and that, moreover, in a disagreeably
repulsive way. One Sunday, when the Herr Administrator was dining at
Master Wacht's, as he usually did on that day, the latter began to heap
up praises and commendations upon every dish which busy Rettel caused
to be served up; and not only did he call upon the Herr Administrator
to join him in his encomiums, but he also asked him pointedly what he
thought of various ways of dressing dishes. The Herr Administrator
replied somewhat dryly that he was a temperate and abstemious man,
accustomed from his youth up to the greatest frugality. At noon, for
dinner, he was satisfied with a spoonful or two of soup and a little
piece of beef, but the latter must be cooked hard, since so cooked a
smaller quantity sufficed to satisfy the hunger, and there was no need
to overload the stomach with large pieces. For his evening meal he
generally managed upon a saucer of good egg and butter beaten up
together and a very small glass of liquor; moreover, the only other
refreshment he allowed himself was a glass of extra beer at six o'clock
in the evening, taken if possible in the good fresh air. It may be
imagined what looks Rettelchen fixed upon the unfortunate
administrator. And yet the worst was still to come. Bavarian puffy
noodles were next served, and they were swollen up to such a big, big
size that they seemed to be the masterpiece of the table. The frugal
Herr Administrator took his knife and with the most cool-blooded
indifference cut the noodle which was passed to him into many pieces.
Rettel rushed out of the room with a loud cry of despair.

I must inform the reader who does not know the secret of eating
Bavarian puffy noodles that when eaten they must be cleverly pulled to
pieces, since when cut they lose all taste and bring disgrace upon the
professional pride of the cook who made them.

From that moment Rettel looked upon the frugal Herr Administrator as
the most abominable man under the face of the sun. Master Wacht did not
contradict her in any way; and so the reckless iconoclast in the
province of cookery lost his bride for ever.

Though the chequered figure of little Rettel has cost almost too many
words, yet a very few strokes will suffice to put clearly before my
reader's eyes the face, figure, and character of pretty, graceful
Nanni.

It is only in South Germany, particularly in Franconia, and almost
exclusively in the burgher classes, that you can meet with su