At first Dietel, the old waiter, whose bullet-shaped head was covered with thick gray hair, also failed to notice them.

Without heeding their entrance, he continued,--aided by two assistants who were scarcely beyond boyhood,--to set the large and small pine tables which he had placed wherever he could find room.
The patched tablecloths which he spread over the tops were coarse and much worn; the dishes carried after him by the two assistants, whose knees bent under the burden, were made of tin, and marred by many a dent.

He swung his stout body to and fro with jerks like a grasshopper, and in doing so his shirt rose above his belt, but the white napkin under his arm did not move a finger's width.

In small things, as well as great ones, Dietel was very methodical.

So he continued his occupation undisturbed till an inexperienced merchant's clerk from Ulm, who wanted to ride farther speedily, accosted him and asked for some special dish.
Dietel drew his belt farther down and promptly snubbed the young man with the angry retort; "Everybody must wait for his meal.