href="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@40608@[email protected]#Page_126" class="pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">126

FRITZ PLAYED  130
STOOD ON HER HEAD  132
"GIVE ME THE VIOLIN"  137
"PLEASE, FATHER"  139
"YOU MUST LEARN TO HELP OTHERS"  140
SAT UPON THE STEPS OF THEIR WAGON  143
"HERE IS YOUR SON!"  147
"HE STANDS LIKE THIS"  150
THE BRANDENBURG GATE IN BERLIN  155
UNTER DEN LINDEN IN BERLIN  156
THEY WERE GOING TO LIKE BERLIN  158

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Mitz and Fritz of Germany

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CHAPTER I

"FOOLISH FRITZ"

Toys! Toys! Toys! All over the room—toys!

It was a big, comfortable room with a work bench in it, and shelves and a table full of paints and pots of glue.

On the window seat in a corner sat a girl, a boy, and a dog.

The girl wore a stiff white apron. Her cheeks were rosy and plump. She had a saucy look. Her big blue eyes were fixed upon the pages of a book. She was reading to the boy. The boy wore a green blouse smeared with paint. He was busily carving a wooden elephant. The dog was brown and very long. He lay asleep beside the children with his nose on the girl's lap.

These are Mitz, Fritz, and Frank. Now you have met them. And this is their father's workshop—the workshop of a German toy maker in Nuremberg (Nū´rĕm-bûrg), city of toys.

Mitz was really Mitzi. Fritz was really Frederic. Frank, the dog, was really Frankfurter. But the former names were their nicknames.

"So! It is finished at last," said the boy who was Fritz.

He put the wooden elephant on the window sill. He stretched his arms. He was younger than his sister, and his cheeks were not so red nor was his face so saucy. He had the look of one who dreams—a happy look.

Mitzi cocked her head on one side and examined the elephant.

"It is not so bad," she said. Then she added, "For you!"

FRITZ

Fritz smiled. His face seemed made for smiling.

"Now, please," he said, "read some more, Mitz."

"Good. I will," answered Mitzi. "But you must carve while I read. Father will scold if he comes home and finds you idle."

Fritz began to carve a doll and Mitzi began to read. She read about Richard Wagner (Väg´nẽr), who was one of the greatest musicians that ever lived.

But suddenly she stopped reading and screamed, "Fritz! Fritz! What are you doing?"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Fritz looked down at his work and, behold, he had almost cut off the head of a doll he was carving! The poor head was hanging by a splinter.

"Shame, shame! I cannot read to you if you do such things," said Mitzi. She started to close the book.

"No, please!" begged Fritz. "I promise I will not do it again. I was thinking only of Richard Wagner. I was not looking at the doll."

"Good, then," said Mitzi, "I shall read more if you will not dream again."

But before she began to read, she got up and went to a big cupboard. From the big cupboard she helped herself to a lovely, thick slice of German brown bread. Then she took out a long knife and a long sausage, which looked very much like the long dog, Frank. She cut the sausage and put pieces of it on the bread and ate it.

"Will you have some?" she asked Fritz.

But her mouth was so full of bread and sausage that her words sounded like "Will-awamwam?"

Fritz shook his head. He was trying hard to stick the doll's head back into place. Mitzi seated herself on the window sill. She gave a piece of meat to Frank, who gobbled it up and promptly fell asleep again. Then she began to read.

GAVE A PIECE OF MEAT TO FRANK

"'One day,'" she read, "'when Richard Wagner was a little boy, he was watching some acrobats in the market square. A band was playing and Richard listened joyfully. They were