would no doubt have continued thus for some time if Sally and Kaetheli
had not arrived on the scene. They made everything clear in a short
time.

But the mother did not like to have her children run to the Middle Lot
for the sake of staring at strange people who had arrived there, and to
increase the gaping crowd who, no doubt, were standing in front of
Marianne's cottage. She did not give the longed-for permission, but she
invited Kaetheli to stay at the parsonage and take afternoon coffee with
the children and afterwards play in the garden.

That was at least something; Sally and Ritz were satisfied, and they ran
at once with Kaetheli into the house. But Edi showed a dissatisfied
face, for wherever something strange could be seen or found, he had to
be there.

He stood there without saying a word. He was thinking whether he dared
to work on his mother to get the desired permission. He feared, however,
the auxiliary troops which his aunt would lead into battle to help his
mother. But before he had weighed all sides his aunt said: "Well, Edi,
have you not yet swallowed the defeat? Isn't there some old Roman, or
Egyptian, who also could not always do what he wanted? Just you think
that over and you will see that it will help you."

That helped, indeed, for Edi was a great searcher in history, and when
he happened in that field, then all other interests were pushed into the
background. He at once remembered that he had not finished reading about
his old Egyptian, and with a smoothed brow he ran into the house.

The sun had set and it was growing dark among the bushes in the garden,
where the children, with red cheeks, were seeking each other and hiding
again. All of a sudden there came a loud, penetrating call: "To bed, to
bed!" Ritz had just found a fine hiding-place in the henhouse, where he
had comfortably settled, secure from being discovered, when this
terrible call reached him. It struck him like a thunderbolt. Yes, it
took his breath away so that he turned white and hadn't the strength to
rise; for, with the call came the remembrance of the three sentences
which he had to write: three whole sentences and nine different
qualities, and he had forgotten everything, and now all the time had
gone and he had to go to bed.

"Where are you, Ritz?" It sounded into his hiding-place. "Come, crawl
out. I know you are in there and will be covered with feathers from head
to foot."

The aunt stood before the henhouse, a