Never have I, heard one angry or hasty word, one petulant or weary cry
from the rooms in which this father and mother and six children are
struggling to live. All day long the barefooted and ragged little ones
play under my south windows, and do not quarrel. I amuse myself by
dropping grapes or plums on their heads, and then watching them at their
feast; never have I seen them dispute or struggle in the division. Once I
purposely threw a large bunch of grapes to the poor little mute, and only
a few plums to the others. I am sorry to say that voiceless Carl ate all
his grapes himself; but not a selfish or discontented look could I see on
the faces of the others,--they all smiled and beamed up at me like suns.
It is Anton who creates and sustains this rare atmosphere. The wife is
only a common and stupid woman; he is educating her, as he is the
children. She is very thin and worn and hungry-looking, but always smiles.
Being Anton's wife, she could not do otherwise.
Sometimes I see people passing the house, who give a careless glance of
contemptuous pity at Anton's window of mallows and nasturtiums.
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