the door of a baker's shop: the smell of hot bread tempted me in, and
with a feeble voice I demanded charity.

"The master baker gave me as much bread as I could eat, upon condition
that I should change dresses with him and carry the rolls for him through
the city this day. To this I readily consented; but I had soon reason to
repent of my compliance. Indeed, if my ill-luck had not, as usual,
deprived me at this critical moment of memory and judgment, I should
never have complied with the baker's treacherous proposal. For some time
before, the people of Constantinople had been much dissatisfied with the
weight and quality of the bread furnished by the bakers. This species of
discontent has often been the sure forerunner of an insurrection; and, in
these disturbances, the master bakers frequently lose their lives. All
these circumstances I knew, but they did not occur to my memory when they
might have been useful.

"I changed dresses with the baker; but scarcely had I proceeded through
the adjoining streets with my rolls before the mob began to gather round
me with reproaches and execrations. The crowd pursued me even to the
gates of the grand seignior's palace, and the grand vizier, alarmed at
their violence, sent out an order to have my head struck off; the usual
remedy, in such cases, being to strike off the baker's head.

"I now fell upon my knees, and protested I was not the baker for whom
they took me; that I had no connection with him; and that I had never
furnished the people of Constantinople with bread that was not weight. I
declared I had merely changed clothes with a master baker for this day,
and that I should not have done so but for the evil destiny which governs
all my actions. Some of the mob exclaimed that I deserved to lose my
head for my folly; but others took pity on me, and whilst the officer,