But the last words had interested Mäzli 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 Mäzli hurry him in the least. "Don't do it that way," Mäzli called out impatiently. "Throw them all in and put on the lid. Then it's all done." "One must not do that, Mäzli; 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," Mäzli declared, rapidly whisking out by the door. When Lippo had properly filled the box and set it in its right place, he quickly followed Mäzli, 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 muffled, as if from up above, so he went up and into her bedroom. There Mäzli 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 Mäzli 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 Mäzli 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," Mäzli asserted 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." Mäzli 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?"