He paused at the gate and inspected the old man highly.
"Herr Hoffman ?" "Yes." "I want work." "So?
What can you do ?" He was a clean youngster, this, but there was something in his eyes that vaguely disturbed the head vintner.

It was like mockery more than anything else.

The youth recounted his abilities, and Hoffman was gracious enough to admit that he seemed to know what he was talking about.
"I have a letter to you also." "_Ach!_ We shall be properly introduced now," said Hoffman, growling.
"Let me see it." He saw it, but with starting eyes.

There was, then, something new under the sun?
A picker of grapes, recommended by a princess! He turned the letter inside out, but found no illumination.
"_Du lieber Gott!_ You are Leopold Dietrich ?" "Yes, Herr." "How did you come by this letter ?" "Her serene highness is patron to Gretchen, the goose-girl, at whose request the recommendation was given me." This altered matters.

"Follow me," said Hoffman.
The two entered the office.
"Can you write ?" "A little, Herr." "Then write your name on this piece of paper and that.