"Karl, they are children," mamma Betty said: softly patting Max's head;
then lifting it up gently; "Max, go to the confectioners." Max sprang to
his feet as a war-horse at the sound of a trumpet.
"Here are ten groschens;"--mamma Betty took them out of her scanty purse
with something of a sigh;--"buy as much cake and whatever you like.
Liseke tell Marie to make a pitcher of chocolate instantly. My little
Hannah, you may set the table."
"Oh, mamma, may I put on the pretty china cups and saucers?" Hannah
pleaded, as Max and Liseke bounded out of the room.
"Yes, but be careful, my dear."
"Chocolate!" said papa Karl with some scorn, "bribing them for the sake
of peace."
They were children, she said. Had papa Karl forgotten that he, too, had
once been a child?
Papa Karl had forgotten this trifling circumstance but he magnanimously
declared he forgave them all.
There was a pattering of feet down the entry, and three tear-stained
faces looked timidly in.
"The chocolate is on the table," Hannah said bravely, with only one tiny
sob. Then the door closed and the little feet patted down the corridor.
"Come Karl, and drink a cup of chocolate. You need it as much as the
children, for you were disappointed also. You thought to give them a
pleasure, you mistaken man," mamma Betty said with a little smile.
"I really meant to," said Karl, quite softened.
Mamma Betty was just opening the door, when she suddenly paused.
Pages:
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96