Mitz and family had come purring into the room in the early morning, as
usual, but had been shamefully neglected. All six sat in a row by the
bedside, watching indignantly the two heads peeping out from the
feathers.
"To-day!" Hannah sighed rapturously.
How they got into their clothes, they never knew.
As for eating! why, they couldn't touch the delicious rolls, the glasses
of milk, even that delicious preserve, "Apfel-kraut."
Max alone was himself, and, in his injured way, managed to eat enough
for three. Yet, he was not satisfied; at the age of eight life had few
attractions left for him.
Who could believe that a September day would be so long? Or that the old
clock in the hall would go so ridiculously slow? There was a quiet
jocularity in the motion of its long pendulum, as if it were laughing
bitterly that anyone could be in a hurry. "Ha! ha! ha!" ticked the
clock.
"Oh, dear!" Hannah said with a sigh, "will it never be three?"
How they kept their ears open to hear a crowd of men come stumbling up
the stone steps with the weight of the piano!
"Perhaps it is already here," Liseke said, faintly.
"Perhaps it's coming," Hannah suggested, hopefully.
"One--two--three--," the clock struck.
"Come, mamma!" the children cried; and so they opened the sitting-room
door with trembling hands.
Nobody there; nothing there. Mamma sat down in a corner and began
knitting, while the children looked out of the window into the narrow
street to see a wagon drive up to the house.
Pages:
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94