Her brother’s news had wakened all these memories very vividly.  Then again she would sigh deeply and another communication filled her full of anxiety.  Bruno had asked her not to wait for him at dinner, as he had resolved to stop his comrades from a wicked design and therefore would surely be a trifle late.  What this was and what action he meant to prevent the boy had not had time to say, for Kurt had opened the door at that moment calling for her with his voice of thunder.  All she had been able to do was to beg Bruno, whatever happened, not to let his anger become his master.  Sooner than the mother had expected Kurt’s steps could be heard hurriedly running into the house followed by a loud call for her.

“Here I am, Kurt,” sounded calmly from the living-room, where his mother had finally settled down after her tasks, beside Maezli’s chair.  “Come in first before you try to make your announcements; or is it so dreadfully urgent?”

Kurt had already reached his mother’s side.

“Oh, mother, when I come home from school I’m never sure if you are in the top or the bottom of the house,” he said, “so I have to inquire in plenty of time, especially when there is so much to tell you as there is to-day.  Now listen.  First of all, the teacher thanks you for the presents for the poor people.  He lets you know that if you think it suitable to send them a helmet of cardboard with a red plume, he will put it by for the present.  Or did you have a special intention with it?”

“I do not understand a word of what you say, Kurt,” the mother replied.

That moment Lippo opened the door.  He was apt to come home after the older boy, for Kurt was not obliged to wait for him after school.

“Here comes the one who will be able to explain the precious gift you sent, mother,” said Kurt.

Lippo, trotting cheerfully into the room, had bright red cheeks from his walk.  The mother began by asking, “Tell me, Lippo, did you take something to school this morning in your school-bag for the poor people whose houses were burnt?”

“Yes, mother, my helmet from Uncle Philip,” Lippo answered.

“I see!  You thought that if a poor little chap had no shirt, he would be glad to get a fine helmet with a plume for his head,” Kurt said laughing.

“You don’t need to laugh!” Lippo said, a little hurt.  “Mother told us that we must not only send things we don’t want any more.  So I gave the helmet away and I should have loved to keep it.”

“Don’t laugh at him, Kurt; I really told him that,” the mother affirmed.  “He wanted to do right but he did not quite find the right way of doing it.  If you had told me your intention, Lippo, I could have helped you to do some positive good.  Next time you want to help, tell me about it, and we’ll do it together.”

“Yes, I will,” Lippo said, quite appeased.

“Oh, mother, listen!” Kurt was continuing.  “I have to tell you something you won’t like and we don’t like either.  Just think!  Loneli had to sit on the shame-bench to-day.  But all the class is on Loneli’s side.”