He was apt to come home after the
older boy, for Kurt was not obliged to wait for him after school.
"Here comes the one who will be able to explain the precious gift you
sent, mother," said Kurt.
Lippo, trotting cheerfully into the room, had bright red cheeks from his
walk. The mother began by asking, "Tell me, Lippo, did you take
something to school this morning in your school-bag for the poor people
whose houses were burnt?"
"Yes, mother, my helmet from Uncle Philip," Lippo answered.
"I see! You thought that if a poor little chap had no shirt, he would be
glad to get a fine helmet with a plume for his head," Kurt said laughing.
"You don't need to laugh!" Lippo said, a little hurt. "Mother told us
that we must not only send things we don't want any more. So I gave the
helmet away and I should have loved to keep it."
"Don't laugh at him, Kurt; I really told him that," the mother affirmed.
"He wanted to do right but he did not quite find the right way of doing
it. If you had told me your intention, Lippo, I could have helped you to
do some positive good. Next time you want to help, tell me about it, and
we'll do it together."
"Yes, I will," Lippo said, quite appeased.
"Oh, mother, listen!" Kurt was continuing. "I have to tell you something
you won't like and we don't like either. Just think! Loneli had to sit
on the shame-bench to-day. But all the class is on Loneli's side."
"But why, Kurt? The poor child!" the mother exclaimed.
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