Ms. Martha kept the little bakery on the corner ( that when you open the door bell jingles). forties, and a current account pending a credit of two thousand dollars, had two false teeth and a compassionate heart.
Two or three times a week, went his bakery a young man who took interest. A middle-aged man with glasses and beard carefully. In heavily accented German, their clothes threadbare noticed specific points, but was neat and polite. Always bought two rolls of the previous day. The day cost two cents a piece but two managed to 5 cents the previous day. Never called anything but stale bread.
Often when Miss Martha sat down to tea, he remembered the young man, eager to share their food with him, share something more than day-old bread. Had concluded that he was an artist. He knew the day he came to ask, as always, two rolls of the previous day and his eyes fall on one of the shelves of the fund, he commented on the table with a Venetian picture he had left by the wayside in one of them. As her eyes shone through the glasses! So often the genius has to fight so hard to be recognized ... thought.
He kept coming, but always to buy day-old bread, never a bun or a cake of the day, nothing. None of the delicacies that she would prepare.
Behind the scenes, along with the mass of baking, Martha prepares a borax-based compound, quince seed, a very effective potions to ensure giving luster to the face. And it has changed its old and dull brown twill apron for a gorgeous blue and hand embroidery. Something must be done! Can not allow someone with his talent, obviously, never try a bagel or something better than day-old bread. But you know how proud we are artists, so you think you offended by giving him something other than your usual purchase. It does not feel able to do it face to face. But what else can you do?
Soon enters his client, as usual to ask the usual bread. Martha has left the back room with her blue apron. Just then a roar in the street from a fire truck makes him turn and come to the door. The ideal time.
On the bottom shelf behind the counter Martha has left a pound of butter milk brought just ten minutes. Grab the knife and makes a cut along the bagel, spread lots of butter and reunites the two halves hard to not notice the cut. For when he comes back at her, she is already wrapping paper. He was rushed, barely able to cross a few words. Maybe another time.
Did you take it as an insult?, "Think it was a blatant? No, surely not butter demerit never been to a lady.
many times over the next day he turns that idea on its head. Blushed at the thought.
The door bell rang violently. Someone came to form a scandal. Miss Martha came running. There were two men, one was a young man smoking a pipe, a man she had ever seen, and the other ... the artist.
His face was red with anger, sideways hat and tousled hair. At a stroke suddenly left the coin on the counter and looked fiercely at Miss Martha ...
"I was bored but well, stupid busybody! - Said, his eyes sticking out over his glasses.
Miss Martha back to the shelves of the wall not knowing what to say, while clinging to the apron.
"Oh, come on, enough - the other man told him out of the store to stumble" I had warned him, ma'am, "the return" is a draftsman. Works in my office. Three months has been working on a project designing an enclosure for the council. Presented to the contest. Ended ink passing yesterday. You know ... draftsmen first did so in pencil ... And when he had finished, was to remove the stale bread crumbs, is better than no eraser, you know? Only you have stale, so we buy here. But the butter ... you know, is good for everything except for architectural projects ...
Miss Martha returned to the backroom. He took off his blue apron is definitely the old brown clapped and threw out the window trim their potions.
Author: O. Henry
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