安妮日记- 第11部分

was　adamant。　〃if　he　doesnt　apologize　this　minute；　hell　have　to　sleep　in　the　loft。”

we　protested　that　going　without　dinner　was　enough　punishment。　what　if　peter　were　to　catch　cold？　we　wouldnt　be　able　to　call　a　doctor。

peter　didnt　apologize；　and　returned　to　the　loft。

mr。　van　daan　decided　to　leave　well　enough　alone；　though　he　did　note　the　next　morning　that　peters　bed　had　been　slept　in。　at　seven　peter　went　to　the　attic　again；　but　was　persuaded　to　e　downstairs　when　father　spoke　a　few　friendly　words　to　him。　after　three　days　of　sullen　looks　and　stubborn　silence；　everything　was　back　to　normal。

yours；　anne　

monday；　september　21；　1942

dearest　kitty；

today　ill　tell　you　the　general　news　here　in　the　annex。　a　lamp　has　been　mounted　above　my　divan　bed　so　that　in　the　future；　when　i　hear　the　guns　going　off；　ill　be　able　to　pull　a　cord　and　switch　on　the　light。　i　cant　use　it　at　the　moment　because　were　keeping　our　window　open　a　little；　day　and　night。

the　male　members　of　the　van　daan　contingent　have　built　a　very　handy　wood…stained　food　safe；　with　real　screens。　up　to　now　this　glorious　cupboard　has　been　located　in　peters　room；　but　in　the　interests　of　fresh　air　its　been　moved　to　the　attic。　where　it　once　stood；　theres　now　a　shelf。　i　advised　peter　to　put　his　table　underneath　the　shelf；　add　a　nice　rug　and　hang　his　own　cupboard　where　the　table　now　stands。　that　might　make　his　little　cubbyhole　more　fy；　though　i　certainly　wouldnt　like　to　sleep　there。

mrs。　van　daan　is　unbearable。　im　continually　being　scolded　for　my　incessant　chatter　when　im　upstairs。　i　simply　let　the　words　bounce　right　off　me！　madame　now　has　a

new　trick　up　her　sleeve：　trying　to　get　out　of　washing　the　pots　and　pans。　if　theres　a　bit　of　food　left　at　the　bottom　of　the　pan；　she　leaves　it　to　spoil　instead　of　transferring　it　to　a　glass　dish。　then　in　the　afternoon　when　margot　is　stuck　with　cleaning　all　the　pots　and　pans；　madame　exclaims；　〃oh；　poor　margot；　you　have　so　much　work　to　do！”

every　other　week　mr。　kleiman　brings　me　a　couple　of　books　written　for　girls　my　age。

im　enthusiastic　about　the　loop　ter　heul　series。　ive　enjoyed　all　of　cissy　van　marxveldts　books　very　much。　ive　read　the　zaniest　summer　four　times；　and　the　ludicrous　situations　still　make　me　laugh。

father　and　i　are　currently　working　on　our　family　tree；　and　he　tells　me　something　about　each　person　as　we　go　along。　ive　begun　my　schoolwork。　im　working　hard　at　french；　cramming　five　irregular　verbs　into　my　head　every　day。　but　ive　forgotten　much　too　much　of　what　i　learned　in　school。

peter　has　taken　up　his　english　with　great　reluctance。　a　few　schoolbooks　have　just　arrived；　and　i　brought　a　large　supply　of　notebooks；　pencils；　erasers　and　labels　from　home。　pim　（thats　our　pet　name　for　father）　wants　me　to　help　him　with　his　dutch　lessons。　im　perfectly　willing　to　tutor　him　in　exchange　for　his　assistance　with　french　and　other　subjects。　but　he　makes　the　most　unbelievable　mistakes！

i　sometimes　listen　to　the　dutch　broadcasts　from　london。　prince　bernhard　recently　announced　that　princess　juliana　is　expecting　a　baby　in　january；　which　i　think　is　wonderful。　no　one　here　understands　why　i　take　such　an　interest　in　the　royal　family。

a　few　nights　ago　i　was　the　topic　of　discussion；　and　we　all　decided　i　was　an　ignoramus。　as　a　result；　i　threw　myself　into　my　schoolwork　the　next　day；　since　i　have　little　desire　to　still　be　a　freshman　when　im　fourteen　or　fifteen。　the　fact　that　im　hardly　allowed　to　read　anything　was　also　discussed。　at　the　moment；　mothers　reading　gentlemen；　wives　and　servants；　and　of　course　im　not　allowed　to　read　it　（though　margot　is！）。　first　i　have　to　be　more　intellectually　developed；　like　my　genius　of　a　sister。　then　we　discussed　my　ignorance　of　philosophy；　psychology　and　physiology　（i　immediately　looked　up　these　big　words　in　the　dictionary！）。　its　true；　i　dont　know　anything　about　these　subjects。　but　maybe　ill　be　smarter　next　year！

ive　e　to　the　shocking　conclusion　that　i　have　only　one　long…sleeved　dress　and　three　cardigans　to　wear　in　the　winter。　fathers　given　me　permission　to　knit　a　white　wool　sweater；　the　yarn　isnt　very　pretty；　but　itll　be　warm；　and　thats　what　counts。

some　of　our　clothing　was　left　with　friends；　but　unfortunately　we　wont　be　able　to　get　to　it　until　after　the　war。　provided　its　still　there；　of　course。

id　just　finished　writing　something　about　mrs。　van　daan　when　she　walked　into　the　room。　thump；　i　slammed　the　book　shut。

〃hey；　anne；　cant　i　even　take　a　peek？”

〃no；　mrs。　van　daan。”

〃just　the　last　page　then？”

〃no；　not　even　the　last　page；　mrs。　van　daan。”

of　course；　i　nearly　died；　since　that　particular　page　contained　a　rather　unflattering　description　of　her。

theres　something　happening　every　day；　but　im　too　tired　and　lazy　to　write　it　all　down。

yours；　anne　

friday；　september　25；　1942

dearest　kitty；

father　has　a　friend；　a　man　in　his　mid…seventies　named　mr。　dreher；　whos　sick；　poor　and　deaf　as　a　post。　at　his　side；　like　a　useless　appendage；　is　his　wife；　twenty…seven　years　younger　and　equally　poor；　whose　arms　and　legs　are　loaded　with　real　and　fake　bracelets　and　rings　left　over　from　more　prosperous　days。　this　mr。　dreher　has　already　been　a　great　nuisance　to　father；　and　ive　always　admired　the　saintly　patience　with　which　he　handled　this　pathetic　old　man　on　the　phone。　when　we　were　still　living　at　home；　mother　used　to　advise　him　to　put　a　gramophone　in　front　of　the　receiver；　one　that　would　repeat　every　three　minutes；　〃yes；　mr。　dreher〃　and　〃no；　mr。　dreher；〃　since　the　old　man　never　understood　a　word　of　fathers　lengthy　replies　anyway。

today　mr。　dreher　phoned　the　office　and　asked　mr。　kugler　to　e　and　see　him。　mr。

kugler　wasnt　in　the　mood　and　said　he　would　send　miep；　but　miep　canceled　the　appointment。　mrs。　dreher　called　the　office　three　times；　but　since　miep　was　reportedly　out　the　entire　afternoon；　she　had　to　imitate　beps　voice。　downstairs　in　the　office　as　well　as　upstairs　in　the　annex；　there　was　great　hilarity。　now　each　time　the　phone　rings；　bep　says　thats　mrs。　dreher！〃　and　miep　has　to　laugh；　so　that　the　people　on　the　other　end　of　the　line　are　greeted　with　an　impolite　giggle。　cant　you　just　picture　it？

this　has　got　to　be　the　greatest　office　in　the　whole　wide　world。　the　bosses　and　the

office　girls　have　such　fun　together！

some　evenings　i　go　to　the　van　daans　for　a　little　chat。　we　eat　〃mothball　cookies”

（molasses　cookies　that　were　stored　in　a　closet　that　was　mothproofed）　and　have　a　good　time。　recently　the　conversation　was　about　peter。　i　said　that　he　often　pats　me　on　the　cheek；　which　i　dont　like。　they　asked　me　in　a　typically　grown…up　way　whether　i　could　ever　learn　to　love　peter　like　a　brother；　since　he　loves　me　like　a　sister。　〃oh；　no！〃　i　said；　but　what　i　was　thinking　was；　〃oh；　ugh！〃　just　imagine！　i　added　that　peters　a　bit　stiff；　perhaps　because　hes　shy。　boys　who　arent　used　to　being　around　girls　are　like　that。

i　must　say　that　the　annex　mittee　（the　mens　section）　is　very　creative。　listen　to　the　scheme　theyve　e　up　with　to　get　a　message　to　mr。　broks；　an　opekta　co。　sales　representative　and　friend　whos　surreptitiously　hidden　some　of　our　things　for　us！

theyre　going　to　type　a　letter　to　a　store　owner　in　southern　zealand　who　is；　indirectly；　one　of　opekta　s　customers　and　ask　him　to　fill　out　a　form　and　send　it　back　in　the　enclosed　self…addressed　envelope。　father　will　write　the　address　on　the　envelope　himself。　once　the　letter　is　returned　from　zealand；　the　form　can　be　removed　and　a　handwritten　message　confirming　that　father　is　alive　can　be　inserted　in　the　envelope。

this　way　mr。　broks　can　read　the　letter　without　suspecting　a　ruse。　they　chose　the　province　of　zealand　because　its　close　to　belgium　（a　letter　can　easily　be　smuggled　across　the　border）　and　because　no　one　is　allowed　to　travel　there　without　a　special　permit。　an　ordinary　salesman　like　mr。　broks　would　never　be　granted　a　permit。

yesterday　father　put　on　another　act。　groggy　with　sleep；　he　stumbled　off　to　bed。　his　feet　were　cold；　so　i　lent　him　my　bed　socks。　five　minutes　later　he　flung　them　to　the　floor。　then　he　pulled　the　blankets　over　his　head　because　the　light　bothered　him。　the　lamp　was　switched　off；　and　he　gingerly　poked　his　head　out　from　under　the　covers。　it　was　all　very　amusing。　we　started　talking　about　the　fact　that　peter　says　margot　is　a　〃buttinsky。〃　suddenly　daddys　voice　was　heard　from　the　depths：　〃sits　on　her　butt；　you　mean。

mouschi；　the　cat；　is　being　nicer　to　me　as　time　goes　by；　but　im　still　somewhat　afraid　of　her。

yours；　anne　

sunday；　september　27；　1942

dearest　kitty；

mother　and　i　had　a　so…called　〃discussion〃　today；　but　the　annoying　part　is　that　i　burst　into　tears。　i　cant　help　it。　daddy　is　always　nice　to　me；　and　he　also　understands　me　much　better。　at　moments　like　these　i　cant　stand　mother。　its　obvious　that　im　a　stranger　to　her；　she　doesnt　even　know　what　i　think　about　the　most　ordinary　things。

we　were　talking　about　maids　and　the　fact　that　youre　supposed　to　refer　to　them　as　〃domestic　help〃　these　days。　she　claimed　that　when　the　war　is　over；　thats　what　theyll　want　to　be　called。　i　didnt　quite　see　it　that　way。　then　she　added　that　i　talk　about　later〃　so　often　and　that　i　act　as　if　i　were　such　a　lady；　even　though　im　not；　but　i　dont　think　building　sand　castles　in　the　air　is　such　a　terrible　thing　to　do；　as　long　as　you　do