It's not every day you see an embassy like the one that came to my room yesterday afternoon. In front, Pannochka the sweet, in the back, Vilmochka the sweet, and in between, Garas the hungry dog.
- "Please, sit down," I jumped in front of them with great readiness, and threw myself into the old armchair so hard that it just cracked. Well, Pannochka was on my lap, Vilmochka curled up on Pannochka's lap, and the dog jumped up on Vilmochka's lap.
- "Well," I say to them, "we won't stop until the fair in Tours, will we?
The three guests jumped off my lap like a ball.
- What would we be doing at a fair in Ture when the wedding is at our house!
- Then who is the groom?
- The tin shepherd.
- Then who is the bride?
- Miss porcelain.
- 'Tyuhaj,' I knock my ankles together, 'this is not even half a joke! Quickly my spiked boots, quickly my celebratory mockery, for I'll be the best man here.
- "Oh, daddy," sighs Pannochka, "there's just one small mistake.
- No harm, no foul, my flower.
- "The groom's shoes are dirty, he should have them cleaned," explained Vilmácska.
- Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry - the dog was in a hurry too.
- "Hm, I don't even clean my own boots, let alone the tin shepherd's boots," I said, in a tone of great decorum.
- Otherwise there will be no wedding!
- What will be the reward?
- You can shake hands with the groom," Pannácska encouraged me.
- "You can dance with the bride," promised Willy.
- "You can try the poppy seed cake," said the Garas.
What, there's even poppy seed strudel? I drop my knitting, grab my brush, run to the porch.
- Where's that muddy, bony groom, let me look him in the eye!
There stood the pious one, leaning against the wall, but I didn't really look him in the eye, I had other things to see. Never so beautiful as when my mother spread the strudel on the long table!
The snow-white dough swayed and swayed like the hands of angels floating on a fairy-tale patina. Even the dog Garas forgot himself in such awe that he might still be there today if Pannácska hadn't shaken his ear:
- Oh, dear, what a lazy guest you are, Garas! Let the lower end and the upper end be quickly shut in: let him who wants to see beauty hurry, let him who wants to eat what he has not yet eaten.
The Garas started to leave, I was ashamed myself, I pinched the shepherd's leg: come on, brother, let's go and clean up! Mum went to dress the bride, and left the bride's dressing to the girls:
- Take care of the dough, my souls, while I fix the bride's face.
Not since strudel was invented had strudel been so guarded as it was by the two little girls with their eyes wide open. They didn't even dare to look at the pastry, let alone speak.
And it rose, swelled, and shook at every breath of wind, and bubbled like a stream. It swayed and swayed until the bubbles burst. There was nothing left but their place: a big round spot.
Pannochka was crying:
- Oh my God! You see, my little William?
- Oh dear, I can see that, Pannácska.
- What do you see, Wilma?
- All those holes in the strudel, Pancake.
What now, my lord, my creator? The two frightened little girls looked at each other until suddenly Pannochka started to clap her hands.
- You know what, Wilma? Let's patch up the strudel!
- Gee, Pannácska, I was just about to say the same thing. We'll fold one corner into the other!
It is, but the nature of strudel is such that it doesn't like to be patched. It prefers to keep tearing, but it won't tolerate staining. It splits, cracks, crumbles and crumbles, and by the time the two girls reach the middle, there is barely a trace of the strudel. A sea of crumbs is enough for a bird of the forest.
By the time I got back, the groom's bush was shining so brightly that it was blinding. But what's the point if the strudel's gone? In my fright, I dropped the tin shepherd at the bottom of the stairs, his poor head up to his neck in the mud. And mother, in her anger, dropped the bride from his hand.
And the only thing that happened to that one was that he broke his porcelain head a little. I'm afraid even the muddy shepherd boy won't take it now.
By this time, the dog arrived with great enthusiasm.
- Here comes the guest of the sea! The lower end, the upper end, wants to eat the carcass!
- Rétest, Garas, rétest? - screamed the two little strudel spotters. And in their rage, they stuck their friend Garas with the dusting stick so hard that he will never forget the time they spotted poppy seed strudel for us.
