“Before I forget it,” Julie would rejoin, “would you like one of my
apples? Well, I won’t give you any!” She pursed up her lips, and her
black eyes watered with satisfaction.
Sometimes Julie’s brother Hermann went to school at the same time with
the two girls. There was another brother too, named Moritz, but he
was sickly and did his lessons at home. Hermann was fair-haired and
snub-nosed. He breathed through his mouth and was always smacking his
lips.
“Stuff and nonsense!” he would say. “Papa has a lot more than a
thousand thaler.” He interested Tony because of the luncheon he took
to school: not bread, but a soft sort of lemon bun with currants in
it, and sausage or smoked goose between. It seemed to be his favourite
luncheon. Tony had never seen anything like it before. Lemon bun, with
smoked goose--it must be wonderful! He let her look into his box, and
she asked if she might have some. Hermann said: “Not to-day, Tony,
because I can’t spare any. But to-morrow I’ll bring another piece for
you, if you’ll give me something.”
Next morning, Tony came out into the avenue, but there was no Julie.
She waited five minutes, but there was no sign. Another minute--there
came Hermann alone, swinging his lunch-box by the strap and smacking
his lips.
“Now,” he said, “here’s a bun, with some goose between--all lean;
there’s not a bit of fat to it. What will you give me for it?”
“A shilling?” suggested Tony. They were standing in the middle of the
avenue.
“A shilling?” repeated Hermann. Then he gave a gulp and said, “No, I
want something else.”
“What?” demanded Tony; for she was prepared to pay a good price for the
dainty.
“A kiss!” shouted Hermann Hagenström. He flung his arms around Tony,
and began kissing at random, never once touching her face, for she
flung her head back with surprising agility, pushed him back with her
left hand--it was holding her satchel--against his breast, while with
her right hand she dealt him three or four blows in the face with all
her strength. He stumbled backward; but at that moment sister Julie
appeared from behind a tree, like a little black demon, and, falling
upon Tony, tore off her hat and scratched her cheeks unmercifully.
After this affair, naturally, the friendship was about at an end.
It was hardly out of shyness that Tony had refused the kiss. She was
on the whole a forward damsel, and had given the Consul no little
disquiet with her tomboy ways. She had a good little head, and did as
well in the school as one could desire; but her conduct in other ways
was far from satisfactory. Things even went so far that one day the
school-mistress, a certain Fräulein Agathe Vermehren, felt obliged to
call upon the Frau Consul, and, flushed with embarrassment, to suggest
with all due politeness that the child should receive a paternal
admonition. It seemed that Tony, despite frequent correction, had been
guilty, not for the first time, of creating a disturbance in the street!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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