ONE MORNING, Pantaloon hopped on his shiny, red bicycle and headed straight for the Baker’s shop.

“Oh my!” he said to himself. “I never can get enough of those delicious baked-and-iced things!”

Now, at that moment, the Baker, who looked like a jolly round potato, was making a list of things he had to bake that morning:

Pies, and cakes with strawberry icing, gingerbread men with sugar and spicing, twelve wedding cakes (with lots of layers), nine birthday cakes—and chocolate eclairs!

“Sounds lovely!” cried the Baker. “But I’ll never be finished by noon unless I have some help!”

So he put a sign in the window that said:

        HELP WANTED!

When Pantaloon saw that sign, he fairly flew into the shop!

“I’m a helper!” he said, licking his lips.

“Oh no, Pantaloon!” said the Baker. “You look to me as if you’d eat more than you’d bake!”

He opened the door very wide, and said:

“Good-bye, Pantaloon!”

Then, since he was later than ever, the Baker began at once to mix and beat and bake.

Before long, another helper came tripping into his shop. This one seemed to be a very nice old lady in a big bonnet and a blue shawl.

“I’m a lovely cook,” she said. “And I never eat between meals!”

“Then you’re the helper for me!” laughed the Baker, so happy that he danced the old lady round and round his shop.

But her shawl caught on the counter, and her bonnet bounced off her head—

—and this wasn’t a nice old lady at all!

“It’s Pantaloon!” cried the Baker, throwing up his hands.

“Good-bye!” gulped Pantaloon. He leaped on his bicycle and hurried along to the barbershop.

But all the time he was being clipped and combed and curled, he was trying to think up a new plan for getting to be a helper in that bakery shop.

After a great hustle and bustle, the Baker was ready to ice his cakes. He opened his sugar bin, and it was empty, right down to the bottom.

No sugar!

Away he ran in his going-to-market hat.

Then back he came, carrying such a large bag of sugar that he never saw Pantaloon’s bicycle, which had somehow rolled in front of his door.

“Oops!” cried the Baker, and down he came, sugar and hat and all, in a heap!

When Pantaloon saw what had happened, he wanted to hide under the barber’s chair!

But he ran bravely out, and helped the angry, bruised-and-bumped Baker into his bed. “Don’t worry about a thing!” he said.

Then he mixed the icing, iced the cakes, loaded everything into the Baker’s truck, and delivered all the cakes and cookies in the nick of time.

People were delighted to have their pies and cakes and cookies brought to them by such a prompt poodle.

“Are you the Baker’s new helper?” they asked.

“Maybe I am!” grinned Pantaloon happily.

But on the way back, he remembered it was his bicycle that had caused all the trouble.

“Oh me!” he cried. “I’ll never dare show my face in the Baker’s shop again!”

So he parked the truck, and went home.

Before long, the Baker was back in his shop. He mixed and baked and iced more busily than ever, because now he had more customers than ever.

“Why, where’s Pantaloon?” they asked.

And they said, “How you must miss him!”

“Well, my goodness!” said the Baker, very much surprised. “Well, I do miss Pantaloon, and what do you know about that?”

In the meantime, Pantaloon was playing his guitar and singing:

“What care I for cakes with layers

Or gingerbread men or chocolate eclairs?”

He tried on all his hats, and pretended each one looked much finer than a baker’s tall white hat.

But he didn’t fool himself one bit.

“It’s no use!” said Pantaloon at last.

He still wanted more than anything to be a baker.

Meanwhile, the Baker was looking all over town for Pantaloon.

Everyone said, “No, I haven’t seen him.”

And the Baker went sadly back to his shop.

He put on his tall white hat. And suddenly, he had such a splendid idea that he grinned a wide grin, and began to bake the biggest, roundest, most beautiful cake ever.

Now, Pantaloon was in his bathtub, scrubbing his back with a long-handled brush.

Through the window came the beautiful smell of that beautiful cake.

In a wink, Pantaloon was out of his bath.

He hurried down the street, holding a big green umbrella in front of him.

“This way,” he said, “I can see the Baker’s shop—and the Baker can’t see me!”

And he stopped in front of the window.

That wonderful shop looked even more wonderful! It was filled with pies, and cakes with all kinds of icing, gingerbread men with sugar and spicing, and wedding cakes (with lots of layers), and birthday cakes, and chocolate eclairs—

And right in the very middle of the window, tipped forward so you could read the letters, was a beautiful, big and round cake that said:

        PLEASE PANTALOON, COME BACK!

“Here I am!” laughed Pantaloon, bursting into the shop.

“At last!” cried the Baker. He put a tall white hat on Pantaloon’s head, and sliced the cake.

Then, side by side, the two sat in the window, eating and laughing and chatting away—the two happiest bakers in the whole world.