Evening star., 1925-05-30
Continued from Yesterdays Star)

And now they had gone like every
thing else.
The bakers wife said nothing. Her
lips, thin and anemic, were pressed
tight together. She wouldn't explain.
She wouldn't hold out any hope. She
wasn't sorry. She was glad. Inside
herself she was saying, Serve you
right. Serve you right and her eyes
We're colorless and cold, like the eyes
of a dead fish.
Trudchen turned slowly away. Her
legs didn't seem to belong TO her.
They waggled this way and that under
her dwarfed and wizened little body.
They were much too long and thin
all out Of proportion, so that they
made fraulen auf and zu, with her
short plaid skirt and tam o'shanter,
look like one of those comic pen
wipers that you can make out of
matches, a scrap of old duster and
ball OF wool. Only somehow she wasn't
funny. Even the children in the gym
nasium where she went when she was
strong enough, and who hated her,
didn't laugh.
The woman with the basket stood
in the doorway and looked back at
her. She was frowning as though she
were trying to make up her mind.
Her mouth trembled. She might be
going TO smile or cry. Her face was
full of kindness. Then suddenly she
remembered-aS every one did sooner
or later. She snapped the lid of her
basket, and tossed up her head, and
stumped out angrily.
But Trudchen knew that If she had
been any other little girl something
wonderful would have happened.
One day Trudchen's schoolmistress
had told her class the story of Robinson
Crusoe, and Trudchen had said in her
prim, grave way, Il wish l could be
wrecked on a desert island"
Every one had burst out into mock
Ing laughter. And Trudchen had set
her teeth and sat very upright, SWal-
lowing her shame.
But in her heart she knew what she
meant. She knew it was the truth.
There was nothing terrible in being
alone with bees and flowers and even
wild beasts. But it was terrible to be
alone in world crowded with people.
They might jostle you and almost
knock you over, and yet they never
really touched you. Wherever you
went there was a barrier between you
and them, and nobody ever crossed
it even to scold. much less take you
in their arms and pet you. On the
other side they quarreled, were happy
or unhappy, but at any rate they be-
longed to one another. You were
different-it was very difficult to un-
derstand in what way, because you
seemed TO yourself just like everybody
else-and so people hated you. When
You came into a shop they stopped
complaining about the price of things
and looked proud and aloof. The
children in the gymnasium walked
away from you and played in another
corner. The teachers changed their
voices when they read out that you
were top OF the class. They wouldn't
hide how hard it was for them.
Sometimes it was worse than that
sometimes in winters dusk, coming
down on a deserted street, Trudchen
could feel how all the bitter, terrible
things people hid in their hearts
slipped out of their hiding places and
closed in on her. She could almos-
see them and their lightless, hating
eyes, almost feel their hands clutch
ing at her, tweaking at her pigtai
with cruel fingers, hear their maliciou;
whisperings. And she walked very
slowly, very upright, as though she
had swallowed a poker. because she
was frightened. She knew that il
she began to run, she would never
stop.
1t was like that today. The winters
sky hung so low and was so gray
that the street was already in twilight
The fine rain had become a deluge
which had swept everybody indoors
The big drops danced on the pavements
like demons. 1t was of no use to hug
the wall. They jumped into your
shoes. They dragged your clothes
about you in a dank, heavy weight
so that you could hardly walk. They
got into your glasses SO that YOU
were half blinded. From the pointed
roofs that looked witchlike and wicked
against the gray-yellow background.
they came racing down together in
cascades, shouting and burbling.
great desolation was in Trudchen's
heart. She hadn't had any break
fast, and there wouldn't be any lunch
or Supper-unless Frau Hildebrandt
took pity on them. She was wet
through and cold, and there wouldn't
be any fire. She thought of her
mothers poor white face. When she
heard that there was no bread, per-
haps she would faint again 1t must
be very nice to faint and forget things.
A troop of school children came
swarning round the corner. They
wore short macintosh capes over the
square satchels strapped on their
backs, so that they looked hunch-
backed and uncanny in the gloomy
light, like unfriendly elves. Theil
faces were white and pinched, without
laughter. as though the cold, biting