But Mäzli did not answer and only pulled out a bunch of woolen stockings and a heavy winter cloak, spreading everything on the floor.
"No, I won't do it," said Lippo again, after scrutinizing the unusual performance.
"You don't want to do it because you are afraid it will be too much work," Mäzli asserted with a face quite red with zeal. "I'll help you when I am done here."
"I won't do it anyhow," Lippo repeated resolutely; "I won't because we are not allowed to."
Mäzli found no time to persuade him further, as she began to hunt for her heavy winter shoes, which were still in the wardrobe. But before she had brought them forth to the light, the door opened and the mother was looking full of horror at the devastation.
"But children, what a horrible disorder!" she cried out, "and on Sunday morning, too. What has made you do it? What is this wild dry-goods shop on the floor?"
"Now, you see, Mäzli," said Lippo, not without showing great satisfaction at having so clearly proved that he had been in the right. Mäzli tried with all her might to prove to her mother that her intention had solely been to save her the work necessary to get the things together.
But the mother now explained decidedly to the little girl that she never needed to undertake such actions in the future as she could not possibly judge which clothes she still needed and which could be given away. Mäzli was also told that such help on her part only resulted in double work for her mother. "Besides I can see Mäzli," the mother concluded, "that your great zeal seems to come from a wish to get rid of all the things you don't like to wear yourself. All your woolen things, which you always say scratch your skin. So you do not mind if other children have them, Mäzli?"