"But if a sorcerer can change black bread into white, won't he die of hunger if he has no bread at all ?" "What's that ?" said Cornelius.
"Consequently, I shall not bring you any bread at all, and we shall see how it will be after eight days." Cornelius grew pale.
"And," continued Gryphus, "we'll begin this very day.

As you are such a clever sorcerer, why, you had better change the furniture of your room into bread; as to myself, I shall pocket the eighteen sous which are paid to me for your board." "But that's murder," cried Cornelius, carried away by the first impulse of the very natural terror with which this horrible mode of death inspired him.
"Well," Gryphus went on, in his jeering way, "as you are a sorcerer, you will live, notwithstanding." Cornelius put on a smiling face again, and said,-- "Have you not seen me make the pigeons come here from Dort ?" "Well ?" said Gryphus.
"Well, a pigeon is a very dainty morsel, and a man who eats one every day would not starve, I think." "And how about the fire ?" said Gryphus.
"Fire! but you know that I'm in league with the devil.

Do you think the devil will leave me without fire?
Why, fire is his proper element." "A man, however healthy his appetite may be, would not eat a pigeon every day.

Wagers have been laid to do so, and those who made them gave them up." "Well, but when I am tired of pigeons, I shall make the fish of the Waal and of the Meuse come up to me." Gryphus opened his large eyes, quite bewildered.
"I am rather fond of fish," continued Cornelius; "you never let me have any.

Well, I shall turn your starving me to advantage, and regale myself with fish." Gryphus nearly fainted with anger and with fright, but he soon rallied, and said, putting his hand in his pocket,-- "Well, as you force me to it," and with these words he drew forth a clasp-knife and opened it.
"Halloa! a knife ?" said Cornelius, preparing to defend himself with his stick..