" He answered to whatever names and sobriquets they gave
him.
At first the most hateful of all these men, to Manuel, was the head
baker, who ordered him about in a despotic manner and grew angry if
things weren't done in a trice. This baker was a German named Karl
Schneider who had come to Spain as a vagrant, in evasion of military
service. He was about twenty-four or twenty-five, with limpid eyes,
and hair and moustache that were so fair as almost to be white.
A timid, phlegmatic fellow, he was frightened by everything and found
all things difficult. His strong impressions were manifested neither
in his motions nor his words, but in a sudden flush, which coloured
his cheeks and his forehead, and which would soon disappear and leave
an intense pallor.
Karl expressed himself very well in Spanish, but in a rare manner; he
knew a string of proverbs and phrases which he entangled inextricably;
this lent a quaint character to his conversation.
Manuel soon discovered that the German, despite his abruptness, was a
fine fellow, very innocent, very sentimental and of paradisiacal
simplicity.
After a month's work in the bakery Manuel had come to consider Karl as
his only friend; they treated each other as boon companions and
addressed each other in familiar terms; and if the baker often helped
his assistant in any task that required strength, he would in his
turn, on occasion, ask the boy's opinion and consult him regarding
sentimental complications and punctilios, which fascinated the German
and which Manuel settled with his natural perspicacity and the
instincts of a wandering child who has been convinced that all life's
motives are egotistical and base.
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