"Adolphine told me herself."
"Oh, nonsense, she wasn't there!... Kassian, that boy and his mother!"
And Aunt Lot and the girls refused to believe, were indignant; and Auntie called her husband an old gossip. But the nickname was often on the lips of the young boy- and girl-cousins and of their friends at home and at school. Once, Addie thought he heard a boy shout to him, by way of an abusive epithet:
"Italian!"
He did not understand, did not even apply the word to himself and walked on.
Another time, however, bicycling with the Van Saetzema boys, along the Wassenaar Road, he grew angry because Jaap was trying his hardest to run over a cat:
"Leave the animal alone," cried Addie, furiously, "or I'll punch your head!"
"Oh?" roared Jaap. "You would, would you, Italian?"
Addie did not yet understand. But he had a vague recollection of hearing the name before. He did not at once recall the incident of that other boy:
"Why do you call me an Italian?" he asked.