“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 Maezli 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 Maezli 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,” Maezli 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.”

Maezli 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?”

“Now, you see, Maezli,” said Lippo, not without showing great satisfaction at having so clearly proved that he had been in the right.  Maezli tried with all her might to prove to her mother that her intention had solely been to save her the work necessary to get the things together.

But the mother now explained decidedly to the little girl that she never needed to undertake such actions in the future as she could not possibly judge which clothes she still needed and which could be given away.  Maezli was also told that such help on her part only resulted in double work for her mother.  “Besides I can see Maezli,” the mother concluded, “that your great zeal seems to come from a wish to get rid of all the things you don’t like to wear yourself.  All your woolen things, which you always say scratch your skin.  So you do not mind if other children have them, Maezli?”

“They might like them better than to be cold,” was Maezli’s opinion.

“Oh, mother, Mrs. Knippel is coming up the road toward our house; I am sure she is coming to see us,” said Lippo, who had gone to the window.

“And I have not even taken my things off on account of your disorder here,” said the mother a little frightened.  “Maezli, go and greet Mrs. Knippel and take her into the front room.  Tell her that I have just come from church and that I shall come directly.”