They sprang forward joyfully, to eat the
longed--for noodles.
The king, recognizing the soldiers who had uncovered his roof, drew
near to the fire.
"Shall I also come and eat with you?" he said, good-humoredly.
The soldiers looked up from the tin plates, in which the noodles
were swimming.
"Yes, sire," said Fritz Kober, jumping up and approaching the king;
"yes, you shall eat with us; here is my spoon and knife, and if you
reject it, and are only mocking us, I shall be very angry indeed."
The king laughed, and turning to the officer who had followed him,
said as if to excuse himself:
"I must really eat, or I shall make the man furious.--Give me your
spoon; but listen, I can tell you, if the noodles are not good, I
shall be angry." He took the plate and began to eat.
The soldiers all stopped, and looked eagerly at the king. When he
had swallowed the first bite, Fritz Kober could no longer restrain
his curiosity.
"Well, sire," he said, triumphantly, "what do you say to it! Can't
Buschman prepare better noodles than your cleverest cook?"
"Verily," said the king, smiling, "he never cooked such noodles for
me, and I must say they are good, but, now I have had enough, and I
am much obliged to you.
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