CHAPTER II

DIVERS WORRIES

Before the mother went off to church on Sunday morning she always glanced into the living-room to see if the children were quietly settled at their different occupations and to hope that everything would remain in order during her absence. When she looked in to-day everything was peaceful.

Bruno and Mea were both sitting in a corner lost in a book, Kurt had spread out his drawings on a table before him, and Lippo and Mazli were building on their small table a beautiful town with churches, towers and large palaces. The mother was thoroughly satisfied and went away. For awhile everything was still. A bright ray of sunshine fell over Kurt's drawing and gaily played about on the paper. Kurt, looking up, saw how the meadows were sparkling outside.

"The two rascally milk-spillers from yesterday ought to be locked up for the whole day," Kurt suddenly exploded.

Mea apparently had been busy with the same thought for she a.s.sented very eagerly. The two talked over the whole affair anew and had to give vent to their indignation about the scoundrels and their pity for poor Loneli.

Mazli must have found the conversation entertaining, for glancing over to the others, she let Lippo place the blocks whichever way he pleased, something that very seldom happened. Only when the children said no more she came back to her task.

"Goodness gracious!" Kurt exclaimed suddenly, starting up from his drawing; "you ought to have reminded me, Mea, that we have to bring some clothes to school for the poor people whose houses were burnt up. You heard it, but mother does not even know about it yet."

"I forgot it, too," said Mea quietly, continuing to read.

"Mother knows about it long ago. I told her right away," Lippo declared.

"Teacher told us to be sure not to forget."

"Quite right, little school fox," Kurt replied, while he calmly kept on drawing. As long as his mother knew about the matter he did not need to bother any more.

But the last words had interested Mazli very much. Throwing together the houses, towers and churches she said to Lippo, "Come, Lippo, I know something amusing we can do which will please mama, too."

Lippo wondered what that could be, but he first laid every block neatly away in the big box and did not let Mazli hurry him in the least.

"Don't do it that way," Mazli called out impatiently. "Throw them all in and put on the lid. Then it's all done."

"One must not do that, Mazli; no one must do it that way," Lippo said seriously. "One ought to put in the first block and pack it before one takes up the second."

"Then I won't wait for you," Mazli declared, rapidly whisking out by the door.

When Lippo had properly filled the box and set it in its right place, he quickly followed Mazli, wondering what her plan was. But he could find her nowhere, neither in the hall nor in the garden, and he got no answer to his loud, repeated calls. Finally a reply came which sounded strangely m.u.f.fled, as if from up above, so he went up and into her bedroom. There Mazli was sitting in the middle of a heap of clothes, her head thrust far into a wardrobe. Apparently she was still pulling out more things.

"You certainly are doing something wonderful," said Lippo, glancing with his big eyes at the clothes on the floor.

"I am doing the right thing," said Mazli now in the most decided tone.

"Kurt has said that we must send the poor people some clothes, so we must take them all out and lay together everything we don't need any more.

Mama will be glad when she has no more to do about it and they can be sent away to-morrow. Now get your things, too, and we'll put them all in a heap."

The matter, however, seemed still rather doubtful to Lippo. Standing thoughtfully before all the little skirts and jackets, he felt that this would not be quite after his mother's wish.

"When we want to do something with our clothes, we always have to ask mother," he began again.

But Mazli did not answer and only pulled out a bunch of woolen stockings and a heavy winter cloak, spreading everything on the floor.

"No, I won't do it," said Lippo again, after scrutinizing the unusual performance.

"You don't want to do it because you are afraid it will be too much work," Mazli a.s.serted with a face quite red with zeal. "I'll help you when I am done here."

"I won't do it anyhow," Lippo repeated resolutely; "I won't because we are not allowed to."

Mazli found no time to persuade him further, as she began to hunt for her heavy winter shoes, which were still in the wardrobe. But before she had brought them forth to the light, the door opened and the mother was looking full of horror at the devastation.

"But children, what a horrible disorder!" she cried out, "and on Sunday morning, too. What has made you do it? What is this wild dry-goods shop on the floor?"

"Now, you see, Mazli," said Lippo, not without showing great satisfaction at having so clearly proved that he had been in the right. Mazli tried with all her might to prove to her mother that her intention had solely been to save her the work necessary to get the things together.

But the mother now explained decidedly to the little girl that she never needed to undertake such actions in the future as she could not possibly judge which clothes she still needed and which could be given away.

Mazli was also told that such help on her part only resulted in double work for her mother. "Besides I can see Mazli," the mother concluded, "that your great zeal seems to come from a wish to get rid of all the things you don't like to wear yourself. All your woolen things, which you always say scratch your skin. So you do not mind if other children have them, Mazli?"

"They might like them better than to be cold," was Mazli's opinion.

"Oh, mother, Mrs. Knippel is coming up the road toward our house; I am sure she is coming to see us," said Lippo, who had gone to the window.

"And I have not even taken my things off on account of your disorder here," said the mother a little frightened. "Mazli, go and greet Mrs.

Knippel and take her into the front room. Tell her that I have just come from church and that I shall come directly."

Mazli ran joyfully away; the errand seemed to please her. She received the guest with excellent manners and led her into the front room to the sofa, for Mazli knew exactly the way her mother always did. Then she gave her mother's message.

"Very well, very well, And what do you want to do on this beautiful Sunday?" the lady asked,

"Take a walk," Mazli answered rapidly. "Are they still locked up?" she then casually asked.

"Who? Who? Whom do you mean?" and the lady looked somewhat disapprovingly at the little girl.

"Edwin and Eugen," Mazli answered fearlessly.

"I should like to know where you get such ideas," the lady said with growing irritation. "I should like to know why the boys should be locked up."

"Because they are so mean to Loneli all the time," Mazli declared.

The mother entered now. To her friendly greeting she only received a very cold reply.

"I only wonder, Mrs. Rector," the guest began immediately in an irritated manner, "what meanness that little poison-toad of a Loneli has spread and invented about my boys. But I wonder still more that some people should believe such things."

Mrs. Maxa was very much astonished that her visitor should have already heard what had taken place the night before, as she knew that her sons would not speak of it of their own free will.

"As long as you know about it already, I shall tell you what happened,"

she said. "You have apparently been misinformed. It had nothing to do whatever with a meanness on Loneli's part. Mazli, please join the other children and stay there till I come," the mother interrupted herself, turning to the little girl, whose eyes had been expectantly glued on the visitor's face in the hope of hearing if the two boys were still locked up.

Mazli walked away slowly, still hoping that she would hear the news before she reached the door. But Mazli was doomed to be disappointed, as no word was spoken. Then Mrs. Maxa related the incident of the evening before as it occurred.

"That is nothing at all," said the district attorney's wife in answer.

"Those are only childish jokes. All children hold out their feet sometimes to trip each other. Such things should not be reckoned as faults big enough to scold children for."

"I do not agree with you," said Mrs. Maxa. "Such kinds of jokes are very much akin to roughness, and from small cruelties larger ones soon result. Loneli has really suffered harm from this action, and I think that joking ceases under such circ.u.mstances."