“Let autumn come; the barns are full.”
“Thank God!” tittered the old man, “they are full.”
The sisters put their arms round each other, and pressing their foreheads against the window panes, looked out into the sunny yard, from which clouds of dust were whirling to the sky....
At dusk Paul came home, black as a nigger, for the peat-dust, which the wind had been blowing about, had settled on his beard and face.
He mutely shook hands with his sisters, looked sharply into their eyes, and said, “You shall tell me all about it afterwards.”
Greta looked at Kate, and Kate looked at Greta; then they suddenly laughed aloud, and, seizing him by both shoulders, danced about the room with him.
“You will make yourselves black, children,” he said.
“My sweetheart is a chimney-sweep,” hummed Greta; and Kate sang the second verse, “My sweetheart comes from the nigger’s land.”
Then they kissed him and ran to the looking-glass to see whether the kiss had left a mark.
When he had gone out to make himself tidy, Greta said, “It’s funny that he has only to look at one and all is right again.”