The Gingerbread Man
The baker awoke at three o'clock, and soon afterward came downstairsyawning and rubbing his eyes in his accustomed manner. For it is areal hardship to arise in the middle of the night and go to work, andMonsieur Jules sometimes regretted he was such a skillful baker; forany other profession would have allowed him to sleep until daylight.But the bread and rolls and gingerbread must be fresh and warm bybreakfast time, or the people would be sadly disappointed; and the onlypossible way to get them ready was to start the work at three o'clock.
First, he lighted the big swinging lamps, which made the room bright asday, and then he built the fires in the great furnaces. Presently theselast were roaring in a very business-like manner, and as soon as heheard the roar Monsieur Jules began to whistle. It was his custom, andkept him from getting lonesome while he worked.
Next he kneaded the bread, formed it into loaves, and placed them inlong rows upon the slabs--ready for the oven. The rolls were then mixedand kneaded, and it took a longer time to get them ready than it hadthe bread, for they were small and quite daintily shaped. But at lastthe important task was completed, and while they were rising and theovens heating, Monsieur mixed his gingerbread and cakes.
Somehow, the work progressed very swiftly this morning, and after atime the baker found he had a good hour to spare before the ovens wouldbe ready.
Then a sudden idea struck him.
"Why, to-day is the Fourth of July," he thought, "and that is aNational Holiday. I think I will make a fine gingerbread man, suchas I used to make in Paris, and put it in the shop window to attractattention. These Americans like enterprise, and they have never seen agingerbread man, for I have not made one since I came to this country."
With Monsieur Jules, to think was to act, and scarcely had he spokenthese words when he began to gather his material together for a greatbatch of gingerbread dough. For he resolved that the man he was aboutto make should be big enough and fine enough to arouse the wonder ofall beholders.
He began by filling a great bowl with flour, and then rubbed into theflour some butter and lard. "That will make it short," said Monsieur,"although it is to be a tall man." Then he added some molasses."He will be a sweet fellow," thought the baker, smiling at his ownpleasantries. Then he shook in the ginger and several fragrant spices,and began mixing the dough into one great mass.
"It is too stiff," reflected the baker, a few moments later. "My manmust not be stiff, for that would render him disagreeable." He laughedat the whimsical thought, and glancing around, saw the brown bowl thatMadame had left sitting upon a corner of the table. It was nearly fullof the precious liquid, and Monsieur Jules, with his mind intent uponhis work, never stopped to wonder how it came there. Perhaps he thoughthe had himself unconsciously filled the bowl with water. Anyway, hedumped all of the Essence of Vitality--the Great Elixir which couldnever be duplicated in all the world--into the mass of dough he waspreparing for his gingerbread man!
Monsieur merely noticed that the dough had now become the properconsistency, and mixed easily.
Whistling merrily, he presently spread the huge batch of dough upon thebig table and began rolling it and working it into the shape he desired.
THEN A SUDDEN IDEA STRUCK HIM.]
Ah, but Monsieur Jules Grogrande was a true artist, although a baker!Under his skillful hands the gingerbread man slowly but surely tookform; and the form was fully as large as that of a well-grownfourteen-year-old boy. But it was by no means a boy that Monsieurwas forming with such care; it was, rather, the figure of a typicalFrench gentleman, such as may seldom be met with elsewhere than onthe boulevards of Paris. It was interesting to watch the figure grow:interesting, of course, to Monsieur Jules, as there was no one else inthe bake-room to see.
The man appeared to be dressed in excellent fashion. Monsieur madehim a collar and shirt-front of white bread dough, which looked verybeautiful in contrast to the brown gingerbread-dough of his clothes.Then with a lump of dough, carefully kneaded, he formed the man'snecktie, making a very artistic bow indeed. A waistcoat of fashionablecut was next added. The buttons on the man's coat were white lozenges,and to represent shoes the baker mixed his dough with licorice, untilthe shoes seemed as black and shiny as if freshly polished.
You would have loved to see, could you have been present, the delicateskill with which the clever baker carved the hands and fingers of hisman, using a small but sharp knife, and patting and rounding each doughfinger into proper shape. He even clipped from a sheet of transparentcelluloid the fingernails, and pressed them carefully into the dough atthe ends of the fingers. Who but Monsieur would ever have thought ofsuch a thing?
But, after all, it was upon the face that the baker exercised his bestskill. As a sculptor forms his models out of clay, so Monsieur pressedand squeezed and molded his pliant dough, until every feature ofthe gingerbread man became wonderfully lifelike. Of course the facewas made of the white dough, with just a trifle of the pink coloringmixed into it to make it resemble real flesh. But the wavy hair thatsurrounded the face was of gingerbread-dough, as its brown color, afterit had been baked, would be quite natural and lifelike.
Among the things brought from Paris by the Grograndes was a pair ofexcellent glass eyes, and Monsieur Jules rummaged in a drawer untilhe found them, and then pressed them into the dough face. And now itpositively seemed that the gingerbread man was looking at you, and theeyes lent its face a gentle and kindly expression.
"There's something lacking, however," murmured the baker, looking athis work critically. "Ah, I know--it's the teeth!"
Teeth for a gingerbread man! But nothing was easier to represent, oncetheir absence was noted. Between the lips of the man our baker pressedtwo rows of small white candies, and it was wonderful to remark thepleasant smile that now lent its charm to the face.
With a sigh of satisfaction in the result of his work, the baker atlast declared his gingerbread man ready for the oven.
"And it is my masterpiece!" cried Monsieur Jules, proudly. "Never, evenin Paris, have I seen so perfect a man of dough. He is well worthy tohave a name, and I will call him John Dough, which will be appropriate,indeed!"
But the great ovens were now glowing brightly, so Monsieur filledthem with bread and rolls, and watched them carefully until the bigand little loaves were all done to a turn. The cakes and cookies camenext, and by the time that dawn arrived the front shop was stockedwith heaps of the warm, fresh-smelling loaves and rolls, and trays ofdelicious cakes and buns, hot from the ovens.
Then the baker came back to his gingerbread man, which he first placedgently upon a great iron slab, and then slid it all into the open doorof a perfectly heated oven.
With great anxiety Monsieur watched the oven. The dough was properlymixed, the workmanship was most excellent. Would the baking turn outto be as perfect as the rest? Much good dough may be spoiled in thebaking. None knew that better than Jules Grogrande.
So he tended the oven with nervous care, and finally, at exactly theright moment, the baker threw open the oven door and drew out the sheetof iron upon which the great and grand gingerbread man rested.
He was baked to perfection!
Filled with pride and satisfaction, Monsieur bent admiringly over hisgreat creation; and as he did so, the gingerbread man moved, benthis back, sat up, and looked about him with his glass eyes, while awondering expression crept over his face.
"Dear me!" said he, "isn't it very warm and close in this room?"
The Great Elixir had accomplished its purpose. The wonderful Essenceof Vitality, prized for centuries and closely guarded, had lent itsmarvelous powers of energy, strength, and life to a gingerbread man!And all through the stupidity of a baker's wife who was color-blind andcould not distinguish a golden flask from a silver one!
Monsieur Jules, who knew nothing of the Arab's flasks, or of the GreatElixir, glared wildly into the glass eyes of the gingerbread man. Hewas at first sure that his own eyes, and also his ears, had p
layed hima trick.
"John Dough--John Dough!" he cried, "did you speak? Merciful heavens!Did you speak, John Dough?"
"I did," said the gingerbread man, struggling to rise from the slab,"and I declare that it _is_ warm and close in this room!"
Monsieur Jules gave a scream of terror. Then he turned and fled.
A moment later he staggered into the shop, tossed his hands above hishead, and fell in a heap upon the floor--being overcome by a faintingspell.
Madame, who had just come downstairs and opened the shop, gazed uponher husband's terrified actions with an amazement that prevented herfrom moving a limb or uttering a sound.
What in the world could have happened to Jules?
Then she received the greatest shock of her life.
MONSIEUR JULES TURNED AND FLED.]
From out the door of the bake-room came a gingerbread man, so freshfrom the oven that the odor of hot gingerbread surrounded him like acloud. He looked neither to right nor left, but picked Monsieur's tallsilk hat from off a peg and placed it carelessly upon his own head.Next he caught up a large candy cane from a show-case, stepped overthe prostrate body of the baker, and so left the shop, closing thefront door behind him.
Madame saw him passing the windows, stepping along briskly and swingingthe cane in his left hand.
Then the good lady imitated her husband's example. She gave a shrillscream, threw up her hands, and tumbled over unconscious.
John Dough and the Cherub Page 3
