BAKER: Madam, my customers get exactly what they pay for—not more, and not less.
WOMAN: Then you may keep the cookies.
NARRATOR 2: She turned to go, but stopped at the door.
WOMAN: Van Amsterdam! However honest you may be, your heart is small and your fist is tight. Fall again, mount again, learn how to count again!
NARRATOR 3: Then she was gone.
NARRATOR 1: From that day, everything went wrong in Van Amsterdam’s bakery.
NARRATOR 4: His bread rose too high or not at all.
NARRATOR 2: His pies were sour or too sweet.
NARRATOR 3: His cakes crumbled or were chewy.
NARRATOR 1: His cookies were burnt or doughy.
NARRATOR 4: His customers soon noticed the difference. Before long, most of them were going to other bakers.
BAKER: (to himself) That old woman has bewitched me. Is this how my honesty is rewarded?
NARRATOR 2: A year passed.
NARRATOR 3: The baker grew poorer and poorer.
NARRATOR 1: Since he sold little, he baked little, and his shelves were nearly bare. His last few customers slipped away.
NARRATOR 4: Finally, on the day before Saint Nicholas Day, not one customer came to Van Amsterdam’s shop.
NARRATOR 2: At day’s end, the baker sat alone, staring at his unsold Saint Nicholas cookies.