Part 6

July 6th. We cried like anything I and Hella and Verbenowitsch because we shan’t see Frau Doktor M. any more for nearly 3 months. I only had 2 in History and Natural History, but 1 in everything else. Franke says: Anyone who is not in Professor Igel-Nigl’s good books can find out that he’s cranky and stupid and _he_ could never get a one. Father is quite pleased. Of course Dora has got only ones and Hella has three twos. Lizzi, I think, has 3 or 4. Father has given each of us a 2 crown piece, we can blow it, he says and Mother has given us a lace collar.

July 9th. We are going to Hainfeld this summer, its jolly, I’m awfully pleased; but not until the 20th because Father can’t get away till then and Mother won’t leave Father so long alone. It is only a few days anyhow. It’s a pity Hella’s gone already, she left early this morning for Parsch near Salzburg, what a horrid name and Hella too doesn’t like saying it; I can’t think how anyone can give a place such a nasty name. They have rented a house.

July 12th. It’s shockingly dull. Nearly every day I have a quarrel with Dora because she’s so conceited Oswald came home yesterday. He’s fearfully smart nearly as tall as Father only about a quarter head shorter, but then Father’s tremendously tall. And his voice is quite deep, it was not before. And he has parted his hair on one side, it suits him very well. He says his moustache is growing already but it isn’t; one could see it if it were; five hairs don’t make a moustache.

July 19th. Thank goodness we’re going at last the day after to-morrow. Father wanted Mother to go away with us earlier, but she would not. It would have been nicer if she had.

July 24th. Our house is only 3 doors away from the Hs. Ada and I spend the whole day together. There happens to be a schoolfellow of Dora’s here, one she gets on with quite well, Rosa Tilofsky Oswald says that Hainfeld bores him to death and that he shall get a friend to invite him somewhere. Nothing will induce him to spend the whole holidays here. His name for Ada is: “Country Simplicity.” If he only knew how much she knows. Rosa T. he calls a “Pimple Complex” because she has two or three pimples. Oswald has some fault to find with every girl he comes across. He says of Dora: She is a green frog, for she always looks so pale and has cold hands, and he says of me: You can’t say anything about her yet: “_She_ is still nothing but an unripe embryo.” Thank goodness I know from the natural history lessons what an embryo is, a little frog; “I got in a frightful wax and Father said: Don’t you worry, he’s still a long way from being a man or he would be more polite to his sisters and their lady friends.” This annoyed him frightfully, and since then he never says a word when Ada and Rosa are with us. My birthday is coming soon, thank goodness I shall be 12 then, only 2 years more and I shall be 14; I am so glad. Hella wrote to me to-day for the second time. In August she is going to Hungary to stay with her uncle, he has a great estate and she will learn to ride there.

SECOND YEAR, AGE TWELVE TO THIRTEEN

SECOND YEAR

August 1st. It was awfully jolly on my birthday. We drove to Glashutte where it is lovely; there we cooked our own dinner in the inn for the landlady was ill and so was the cook. On one’s birthday everyone is always so nice to one. What I like most of all is the Ebeseder paint-box, and the book too. But I never have any time to read. Hella sent me a lovely picture: Maternal Happiness, a dachshund with two puppies, simply sweet. When I go home I shall hang it up near the door over the bookcase. Ada gave me a silk purse which she had worked for me herself. Aunt Dora gave me a diary, but I can’t use it because I prefer to write upon loose sheets. Grandfather and Grandmother at B. sent me a great piece of marzipan, splendid. Ada thinks it lovely; she didn’t know marzipan before.

August 9th. When it’s not holidays Ada goes to school in St. Polten staying there with her aunt and uncle, because the school in H. is not so good as the school in St. P. Perhaps next term she is coming to Vienna, for she has finished with the middle school and has to go on learning. But she has no near relations in Vienna where she could stay. She might come to live with us, Dora could have a room to herself as she always wants, and Ada and I could share a room. I would much rather share a room with her than with Dora who is always making such a fuss.

August 10th. I do really think! A boy can always get what he wants. Oswald is really going for a fortnight to Znaim to stay with his chum; only Oswald of course. I should like to see what would happen if Dora or I wanted to go anywhere. A boy has a fine time. It’s the injustice of the thing which makes me furious. For we know for certain that he’s had a _bad_ report, even though he does not tell us anything about it. But of course that doesn’t matter. They throw every 2 in our teeth and when he gets several Satisfactories he can go wherever he likes. His chum too; he only got to know Max Rozny this year and he’s a chum already. Hella and I have been chums since we were in the second in the elementary school and Dora and Frieda Ertl since they went to the High School. We both gave him a piece of our mind about friendship. He laughed scornfully and said: That’s all right, the friendships of _men_ become closer as the years pass, but the friendships of you girls go up in smoke as soon as the first admirer turns up. What cheek. Whatever happens Hella and I shall stick to one another till we’re married, for we want to be married on the same day. Naturally she will probably get engaged before me but she _must_ wait for me before she’s married. That’s simply her duty as a friend.

August 12th. Oswald went away yesterday and we had another scene just before he left because he wanted one of us to go with him to the station and help carry his luggage. As if we were his servants. Ada wanted to volunteer to carry it, but Dora gave her a nudge and luckily she understood directly. Sometimes, but only sometimes, when Dora gets in a wax she is rather like Hella. She thinks it’s better that Oswald has gone away because otherwise there are always rows. That’s because she always comes off second-best. For really he is cleverer than she is. And when he wants to make her really angry he says something to her in Latin which she can’t understand. I think that’s the real reason why she’s learning Latin. I must say I would not bother myself so about a thing like that. I really wouldn’t bother.

August 15th. To-day I posted the parcel to Hella, a silver-wire watchchain; I made it in four days. I hope she’ll get it safely, one can never be sure in Hungary.

August 17th. We are so frightfully busy with Japanese lanterns and fir garlands. The people who have received birthday honours are illuminating and decorating their houses. While we were at work Ada told me a _few things_. She knows more than Hella and me, because her father is a doctor. He tells her mother a good deal and Ada overhears a lot of things though they generally stop talking when she comes in. Ada would like awfully to be an actress. I never thought of such a thing though I’ve been to the theatre often.

August 22nd. Hella is awfully pleased with the chain; she is wearing it. She is really learning to ride at her cousin’s. It’s a pity he’s called Lajos. But Ludwig is not any better. He seems to be awfully nice and smart, but it’s a pity he’s 22 already.

August 25th. Ada is frightfully keen on the theatre. She has often been to the theatre in St. Polten and she is in love with an actor with whom all the ladies in St. Polten are in love. That is why she wants to be an actress and so that she can live _free and unfettered_. That is why she would like so much to come to Vienna. I wish she could come and live with us. She says she is pining away in H. for it’s a dull hole. She says she can’t stand these _cramping conditions_. In St. Polten she spent all her pocket money upon flowers for _him_. She always said that she had to buy such a lot of copybooks and things for school. That’s where she’s lucky not to be at home, for I could not easily take in Mother like that. It would not work. One always has too little pocket money anyhow, and when one lives at home one’s parents know just what copybooks one has. I should like to go away from home for a few months. Ada says it is very good for one, for then one learns to know the world; at home, she says, one only grows _musty_ and _fusty_. When she talks like that she really looks like an actress and she certainly has talent; her German master at school says so too. She can recite long poems and the girls are always asking the master to let her recite.

August 30th. To-day Ada recited Geibel’s poem, The Death of Tiberius, it was splendid; she is a born actress and it’s a horrid shame she can’t go on the stage; she is to teach French or sewing. But she says she’s going on the stage; I expect she will get her way somehow.

August 31st. Oswald’s having a fine long fortnight; he’s still there and can stay till September 4th!! If it had been Dora or me. There would have been a frightful hulabaloo. But Oswald may do _anything_. Ada says: We girls must take for ourselves what the world won’t give us of its own free will.

September 5th. In the forest the other day I promised Ada to ask Mother to let her come and stay with us so that she could be trained for the stage. I asked Mother to-day, but she said it was quite out of the question. Ada’s parents simply could not afford it. If she has talent, the thing comes of itself and she need only go to a school of Dramatic Art so that she could more easily get a good Theatre says Ada. So I don’t see why it should be so frightfully expensive. I’m awfully sorry for Ada.

September 10th. Oh we have all been so excited. I’ve got to pack up my diary because we’re going home to-morrow. I must write as quickly as I can. There have been some gypsies here for three days, and yesterday one of the women came into the garden through the back gate and looked at our hands and told our fortunes, mine and Ada’s and Dora’s. Of course we don’t believe it, but she told Ada that she would have a great but short career after many difficult struggles. That fits in perfectly. But she made a frightful mess of it with me: Great happiness awaits me when I am _as old again as I am now_; a great passion and great wealth. Of course that must mean that I am to marry at 24. At 24! How absurd! Dora says that I look much younger than 12 so that she meant 20 or even 18. But that’s just as silly, for Dr. H., who is a doctor and knows so many girls, says I look _older_ than my age. So that it’s impossible that the old gypsy woman could have thought I was only 10 or even 9. Dora’s fortune was that in a _few_ years she was to have much trouble and then happiness. And she told Ada that her line of life was broken!!

September 14th. Oswald left early this morning, Father kissed him on both cheeks and said: For God’s sake be a good chap this last year at school. He has to matriculate this year, it’s frightfully difficult. But he says that anyone who has cheek enough can get through all right. He says that cheek is often more help than a lot of swoting and grinding. I know he’s right; but unfortunately at the moment it never occurs to me what I ought to do. I often think afterwards, you ought to have said this or that. Hella is really wonderful; and Franke too, though she’s not particularly clever, can always make a smart answer. If only half of what Oswald says he says to the professors is true, then I can’t understand why he is not expelled from every Gym. says Mother. Oswald says: If one only puts it in the right way no one can say anything. But that doesn’t hold always.

September 16th. Hella is coming back to-day. That’s why I’m writing in the morning, because she’s coming here in the afternoon. I’m awfully glad. I have begged Mother to buy a lovely cake, one of the kind Hella and I are both so fond of.

September 20th. Only a word or two. School began again to-day. Thank goodness Frau Doktor M. still takes our class. Frl. Steiner took her doctor’s degree at the end of the school year. In history we have a new Frau Doktor, but we don’t know her name yet. The Vischer woman has been _married_ in the holidays!!! It’s enough to make one split with laughing that anyone should marry _her!!!_ Dora says she wouldn’t like to be her husband; but most likely he will soon get a divorce. Besides, spectacles in a woman are awful. I can put up with a pincenez for one does not wear them all the time. But spectacles! Dora says too that she can’t understand how a man can marry a woman with spectacles. Hella often says it makes her feel quite sick when Vischer glares at her through her spectacles. We have a new natural history professor. I’m awfully glad that three of our mistresses have doctors degrees and that we have one or really 2 professors, for we have the Religionsprofessor too. In the Third they are frightfully annoyed because only one of their mistresses has a doctor’s degree. Dora has 2 doctors and three professors.

September 25th. All the girls are madly in love with Professor Wilke the natural history professor. Hella and I walked behind him to-day all the way home. He is a splendid looking man, so tall that his head nearly touches the lamp when he stands up quickly, and a splendid fair beard like fire when the sun shines on it; a Sun God! we call him S. G., but no one knows what it means and who we are talking about.

September 29th. Schmolka has left, I suppose because of Frl. St.’s vanity bag. Two other girls have left and three new one’s have come, but neither I nor Hella like them.

October 1st. It was my turn in Natural History to-day I worked frightfully hard and _He_ was splendid. We are to look after the pictures and the animals _all through the term_. How jolly. Hella and I always wear the same coloured hair ribbons and in the Nat. Hist. lesson we always put tissue paper of the same colour on the desk. He wants us to keep notebooks, observations on Nature. We have bound ours in lilac paper, exactly the same shade as his necktie. On Tuesdays and Fridays we have to come to school at half past 8 to get things ready. Oh how happy I am.

October 9th. _He_ is a cousin of our gymnastic master, splendid! This is how we found it out. We, Hella and I, are always going past the Cafe Sick because he always has his afternoon coffee there. And on Thursday when we passed by there before the gymnastic lesson there was the gymnastic master sitting with him. Of course we bowed to them as we passed and in the gymnastic lesson Herr Baar said to us: So you two are tormented and pestered by my cousin in natural history? “Pestered” we said, o no, it’s the most delightful lesson in the whole week. “Is that so?” said he, “I won’t forget to let him know.” Of course we begged and prayed him not to give us away, saying it would be awful. But we do hope he will.

October 20th. Frau Doktor Steiner’s mother is dead. We are so sorry for her. Some of us are going to the funeral, I mayn’t go, Mother says it is not suitable, and Hella is not allowed to go either, I wonder if _He_ will go? I’m sure he will, for really he _has_ to.

October 23rd. Frau Doktor St. looks frightfully pale. Franke says she will certainly get married soon now that both her parents are dead. Her fiance often fetches her from the Lyz, I mean he waits for her in L. Street. Hella thinks an awful lot of him of course, because he’s an officer. I don’t think much of him myself, he’s too short and too fat. He’s only a very little taller than Frl. St. I think a husband should be nearly a head taller than his wife, or at least half a head taller, like our Father and Mother.

October 29th. We have such a frightful lot of work to do that we’re not taking season tickets this winter, but are going to pay each time when we go skating. I wish we knew whether _He_ skates, and where. Hella thinks that with great caution we might find out from his cousin during the gymnastic lesson. They are often together in the Cafe. I should like to know what they talk about, they are always laughing such a lot, especially when we go by.

October 31st. Ada has written to me. She is _awfully_ unhappy. She is back in St. P., in a continuation school. But the actor is not there any more. She writes that she yearns to throw off her chains which lie heavy on her soul. Poor darling. No one can help her. That is, her Mother could help her but she won’t. It must be awful. Hella thinks that her parents will not allow her to go on the stage until she has tried to do herself a mischief; then things may be better. It’s quite true, what can her mother be thinking of when she knows how fearfully unhappy Ada is. After all, why on earth shouldn’t she go on the stage when she has so much talent? All her mistresses and masters at the middle school praised her reciting tremendously and one of them said in so many words that she had _great dramatic talent_. Masters don’t flatter one; except . . .; first of all _He_ is not just an ordinary master but a professor, and secondly _He_ is quite, quite different from all others When he strokes his beard I become quite hot and cold with extasy. And the way he lifts up his coat tails as he sits down. It’s lovely, I do want to kiss him. Hella and I take turns to put our penholder on his desk so that _he_ can hallow it with his hand as he writes. Afterwards in the arithmetic lesson when I write with it, I keep looking at Hella and she looks back at me and we both know what the other is thinking of.

November 15th. It’s a holiday to-day so at last I can write once more. We have such a frightful lot to do that I simply can’t manage to write. Besides Mother is often ill. She has been laid up again for the last 4 days. It’s awfully dull and dreary. Of course I had time to write those days, but then I didn’t want to write. As soon as Mother is well again she’s going to the Lyz to ask how we are getting on I’m awfully glad because of S.G.

November 28th. Mother came to school to-day and saw him too. I took her to him and he was heavenly. He said: I am very pleased with your daughter; she’s very keen and clever. Then he turned over the pages of his notebook as if to look at his notes. But really he knows by heart how we all work. That is not _all_ of course. That would be impossible with so many girls; and he teaches in the science school as well where there are even more boys than we are.

December 5th. Skating to-day I saw the Gold Fairy. She is awfully pretty, but I really don’t think her so lovely as I did last year. Hella says she never could think what had happened to my eyes. “You were madly in love with her and you never noticed that she has a typical Bohemian nose,” said Hella. Of course that’s not true, but now my taste is _quite different_. Still, I said how d’you do to her and she was very nice. When she speaks she is really charming, and I do love her gold stoppings. Frau Doktor M. has two too and when she laughs its heavenly.

December 8th. I do wish Dora would keep her silly jokes to herself. When the Trobisch’s were all here to-day they were talking about the school and she said: “Gretl has a fresh enthusiasm each year; last year it was Frau Doktor Malburg and this year it’s Professor Wilke. Frau Doktor Malburg has fallen from grace now.” If I had wanted to I could have begun about the two students on the ice. But I’m not like that so I merely looked at her with contempt and gave her a kick under the table. And she had the cheek to say: “What’s the matter? Oh, of course these tender secrets of the heart must not be disclosed. Never mind Gretl, it does not matter at your age, for things don’t cut deep.” But she was rightly paid out: Frau von Tr. and Father roared with laughter and Frau v. Tr. said: “Why, grandmother, have you been looking at your white hair in the glass?” Oh, how I did laugh, and she was so frightfully put out that she blushed like fire, and in the evening _she_ said to _me_ that I was an ill-mannered pig. That’s why I did not tell her that she’d left her composition book on the table and to-morrow she has to give it in. It’s all the same to _me_, for I’m an ill-mannered pig.