Up to every thing, invariably good-humored and ready-witted, the porters fondly called him "our Karl;" and his father often glanced aside from his work to look at him with delight.
But in one point Karl did disappoint him: he gave no promise of ever attaining to his father's stature.

He was a handsome, fair-haired, rosy-cheeked youth; but all the giants agreed that he would never be more than a middle-sized man; and so his father fell into the habit of treating him like a sort of delicate dwarf, with the utmost consideration, and a certain touch of compassion.
"I don't care," said the indulgent parent to Mr.Pix, when introducing the boy into the business, "what the little fellow learns besides, so that he does learn to be honorable and practical." This was a speech after Mr.Pix's own heart; and this system of education was at once begun by Sturm taking his son into the great vaulted room, and saying, "Here are the almonds and the raisins--taste them." "Oh, they are good, father," cried the boy.
"I believe you, Liliputian," nodded Sturm.

"Now, see, you may eat as many of them as you like; neither Mr.Schroeter, Mr.Pix, nor I shall interfere.

But, my little lad, you had better see how long you can hold out without beginning.

The longer the better for yourself, and the more honor in it; and when you can stand it no longer, come to me and say 'Enough;'" upon which he left him, having laid his great turnip of a watch on a chest standing by.